Buddhist Catholic Contemplative Evangelical General Christian Hindu Jewish Latter-day Saint Muslim New Visions Progressive Christian

Beliefs

Topics

Columnists

Resource Library

Research Tools

Video

Podcasts

Thought Readers

Faith In Media Tracker

Newsletters

Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In Subscription Support

Follow Patheos

Home
Latter-day Saint
Real life, right now, is parting

Real life, right now, is parting

Last updated on: May 27, 2019 at 6:30 am by Dan Peterson

Real life, right now, is parting 2019-05-27T06:30:39-06:00 Dan Peterson

LOGO Patheos Explore the world's faith through different perspectives on religion and spirituality! Patheos has the views of the prevalent religions and spiritualities of the world.

On our way to Heathrow, we passed by the Albert Memorial in Kensington Gardens, an expression of Queen Victoria’s inconsolable, decades-long grief for her consort, Prince Albert. Not even the greatest monarchs escape such partings.
(Wikimedia Commons public domain image)

I am, I suppose, in a melancholy mood. “All real life is meeting,” said the great Jewish philosopher Martin Buber. “Alles wirkliche Leben ist Begegnung.” (Another way of rendering the German would be “All actual life is encounter.”)

This is true, I guess. And we can hope that, in the end, it’s ultimately and supremely true.

In the meanwhile, though, and pending that glorious day, real life is also parting.

My wife and I said a goodbye just a short while ago. This wasn’t precisely the trip to England that we had planned, or would have planned. But we loved it. And, along the way, I became well acquainted with “Peppa Pig.”

But now we move on. Real life is parting. And, astonishingly for a person with deep Scandinavian roots, I’m feeling quite teary-eyed.

Which put me in the mood for the poem “For the Fallen,” written about Great Britain’s dead in the First World War by Laurence Binyon (1869-1943):

With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children,

England mourns for her dead across the sea.

Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,

Fallen in the cause of the free.

Solemn the drums thrill; Death august and royal

Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,

There is music in the midst of desolation

And a glory that shines upon our tears.

They went with songs to the battle, they were young,

Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow.

They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;

They fell with their faces to the foe.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning

We will remember them.

They mingle not with their laughing comrades again;

They sit no more at familiar tables of home;

They have no lot in our labour of the day-time;

They sleep beyond England’s foam.

But where our desires are and our hopes profound,

Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,

To the innermost heart of their own land they are known

As the stars are known to the Night;

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,

Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;

As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,

To the end, to the end, they remain.

This poem is beloved in the British Isles. It’s often read at memorial services and commonly appears, especially its fourth stanza, on war memorial sculptures and plaques.

Sadly, when Laurence Binyon died in 1943, yet another generation of the youth of the United Kingdom were immersed in bloody conflict.

The off-shore geographical location of the British Isles didn’t, in the end, prevent them from being caught up in the two European-generated World Wars. Nearly 900,000 British people perished in the First World War, according to one source that I consulted (the numbers vary considerably); something like 450,000 died in the Second.

It’s impossible to calculate the loss, in beneficial medical breakthroughs, in scientific discoveries, in acts of service and kindness, in fathers and mothers, the pain to parents and siblings and spouses and children.

Real life is parting. Someday, though, it will be gloriously different.

Posted from London, England

Uncategorized

Previous Post

May 26, 2019

New Testament Notes 332-334

Next Post

May 27, 2019 To some extent, geography is destiny (Part 2)

Browse Our Archives

Select a Category Uncategorized

Select a Month October 2026 September 2026 August 2026 July 2026 June 2026 May 2026 April 2026 March 2026 February 2026 January 2026 December 2025 November 2025 October 2025 September 2025 August 2025 July 2025 June 2025 May 2025 April 2025 March 2025 February 2025 January 2025 December 2024 November 2024 October 2024 September 2024 August 2024 July 2024 June 2024 May 2024 April 2024 March 2024 February 2024 January 2024 December 2023 November 2023 October 2023 September 2023 August 2023 July 2023 June 2023 May 2023 April 2023 March 2023 February 2023 January 2023 December 2022 November 2022 October 2022 September 2022 August 2022 July 2022 June 2022 May 2022 April 2022 March 2022 February 2022 January 2022 December 2021 November 2021 October 2021 September 2021 August 2021 July 2021 June 2021 May 2021 April 2021 March 2021 February 2021 January 2021 December 2020 November 2020 October 2020 September 2020 August 2020 July 2020 June 2020 May 2020 April 2020 March 2020 February 2020 January 2020 December 2019 November 2019 October 2019 September 2019 August 2019 July 2019 June 2019 May 2019 April 2019 March 2019 February 2019 January 2019 December 2018 November 2018 October 2018 September 2018 August 2018 July 2018 June 2018 May 2018 April 2018 March 2018 February 2018 January 2018 December 2017 November 2017 October 2017 September 2017 August 2017 July 2017 June 2017 May 2017 April 2017 March 2017 February 2017 January 2017 December 2016 November 2016 October 2016 September 2016 August 2016 July 2016 June 2016 May 2016 April 2016 March 2016 February 2016 January 2016 December 2015 November 2015 October 2015 September 2015 August 2015 July 2015 June 2015 May 2015 April 2015 March 2015 February 2015 January 2015 December 2014 November 2014 March 2014 August 2013 February 2012

TAKE THE

Religious Wisdom Quiz

Who cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" while dying?

Select your answer to see how you score.

Jesus Stephen David Paul