My bunny in Australia died on Sunday. My mum had prepared a feast for me thinking to celebrate my graduation. But instead, in addition to rejoicing we were mour...
My dear Wigglesworm,
It's been sweltering down here in the Lower Regions - you would think you were in the high summer of Boston, but no, it's just hell. Any...
“Almighty God, you have created us out of the dust of the earth: Grant that these ashes may be to us a sign of our mortality and penitence, that we may remember...
It is with a certain sense of shame that I confess that until this summer I had never read Paradise Lost all the way through. I had eagerly read the excerpts as...
At what point does the culture of life end and the cult of life begin?
Jean Vanier is the head of L'Arche, an international network of faith-based communities in which developmentally disabled people and non-disabled people live together. The communities are meant to treat the disabled with the dignity and love that the rest of the world most often denies them. L'Arche recognizes, as the late Pope John Paul II once said, that "the difficulties of the disabled are often perceived as a shame or a provocation and their problem as burdens to be removed or resolved as quickly as possible. Disabled people are instead living icons of the crucified Son. They reveal the mysterious beauty of the One who emptied himself for our sake and made himself obedient unto death."
Our first inclination might be to peg L'Arche as the ultimate celebration of life, what happens when we choose to show hospitality to people who are inconvenient and different. L'Arche seems like it ought to be a clear answer to those who doubt that the severely developmentally disabled can live with the dignity and love that they deserve and who believe that they are "better off dead." And to some extent, it is.
But L'Arche is particularly good at celebrating life in all its fullness, even its end. Vanier writes, "Over the last forty-two years we've had many deaths, and we've spent a lot of time celebrating death. It's very fundamental to our community...We gathered to say how beautiful [a recently deceased community member] was, how much she had brought to us. Her sisters came, and we wept and laughed at the same time. We wept because she was gone, but we laughed because she did so many beautiful things" (32).