Except what won’t be.

                                                                                                                                       continued from here All will be well.
  Except what won’t be. 

“What did you preach on yesterday,” I said to Axel, sneezing — the books in his office were shedding.
     “Are you okay?” he said.
     “Yes.”

‘All will be well’
If you just stay inside,
it won’t matter if things change out.

He turned around in his chair, Axel, and he took a Bible from the shelf directly behind him, from the middle of the shelf. If he sat in the middle of the desk, facing forward, the Bible was directly behind and aligned with his spine. It was sea green and worn. He turned back with it, put it in front of him. He opened it. He said, “Deuteronomy 30.
     “The lesson from the Old Testament. Moses is speaking on God’s behalf: ‘See, I have set before you this day life and good, death and evil. If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God which I command you this day, by loving the Lord your God, by walking in his ways, and by keeping his commandments . . . then you shall live and multiply, and the Lord your God will bless you . . . . But if your heart turns away and you will not hear, but are drawn away to worship other gods and serve them, I declare to you this day that you shall perish . . . . I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life . . . loving the Lord your God, obeying his voice, and cleaving to him.’ Choose life, God pleads with the people. Choose love, Jesus pleads with us. It’s the law of love that is his commandment. To choose love is to choose life.”
     “Good enough,” I said, boldly (knowing I was about to put my foot in it). “But what about all the other stuff in yesterday’s gospel. I’m thinking especially of . . . ” I gestured for the Bible. “‘Anyone who divorces his wife, except on the ground of unchastity, causes her to commit adultery; and whoever marries a divorced woman commits adultery.’ Not a word about love.”

“No,” Axel said. “No.” He shook his head. His hand asked for the Bible back; I pushed it across the desk. “But,” he said, “the whole passage: it’s about steadfastness, isn’t it? — about reconciling with your brother, or your sister, about remaining faithful to your wife, or your husband. It’s about constancy, about not wavering. We make bad choices, or we think we have. We decide we don’t want to be brothers or sisters any longer, we don’t want to be married any longer, because the choices we made then are no longer satisfying. They no longer delight us. We’re no longer, I don’t, enthralled. But satisfaction/delight/being enthralled is not the same thing as love, is it?”
     “I have to say no,” I said. “I will. I will say no.” And Axel put his hands out, palms facing me. They said, “There it is.”

And there it was, if it would only stay there. But it never does.

                                                                              02.14.23