The bridge of life is sometimes not easy to cross. We are worried about the danger ahead or the rocks below waiting to swallow us up with one misstep, one misplacement of our feet. We worry about the age of that bridge. What if we break it trying to cross? We worry about the length of that bridge. What if the bridge is too long to cross? What if we get tired halfway through? Sometimes, the bridge of life is difficult to cross, but that is when God comes into our lives and shows us that we can in fact do it. We always could, we just needed someone to follow.
“Namaste.” We should say, “Namaste” to all we meet because who knows where God is hiding. God is in the butcher at the local meat market. God is in the barber who can’t stop talking about his twelve-year-old daughter. God is in the clerk at the liquor store (Switzer). God is in the bum begging for change at the subway station. Each of these people is making his way across his own bridge. God is in them and with them showing them the way. Maybe we can learn the secret to crossing the bridge from these people. “Namaste’ you say and follow”(Whyte).
Along our bridge, we must make decisions. We must decide which boards to step on and which to skip. We must decide who’s secrets and bridge crossing techniques we will take with us across our bridge. We must also decide weather or not to confirm the faith that our parents gave us when we were simply at the beginning of our bridge. “Another key moment in life is when the person, now grown and free, makes up its own mind”(Boff 58). This decision requires “a real decision, not a fake decision, on the parts of the candidates”(Huebsch 69). “Confirmation is the sacrament of choice, an adult decision, and the beginning of a life of faith”(Huebsch 71). When we decide to be confirmed, we receive the Holy Spirit. This Holy Spirit is likened to fire. How can one stand in the midst of fire and not feel it? The Holy Spirit is with us always. Perhaps we are so used to the fire that we don’t realize it is hot, or perhaps we don’t believe it is fire at all. This fire, however will not burn and destroy our bridge, but strengthen it and fortify it and make it that much safer to cross.
Our bridge of life is located in the deep jungles of the Basileia, the Kingdom of God. It matters not what religion or creed one follows, because no matter where in the Basileia one’s bridge is, it is always there. “The Basileia is very much more about spirituality than religion”(O Murchu 165). It is not concerned with HOW one worships, but simply the fact that one DOES worship. The bridge is much easier to cross when we have our hands raised to heaven in worship and prayer.
Though it seems that we each have our own separate bridge to cross, we never cross alone. We are separate, yet one at the same time with our neighbors. For, we are all parts of the same whole. We are the body of Christ. “The Body of Christ, for Jesus and the early followers was clearly the community of God…So our reverence must be, not simply for bread, but for bread broken, shared, inclusive of all the Body of Christ, us, them everyone…”(Huebsch 76-77). We are the community of God. We are the Body of Christ, and as such, we are never alone on our bridge, but the weight is never too much for our bridge to handle.
This bridge that we call life is sacrament. Not only is it sacrament to us but sacrament to those we come in contact with. As we look behind us on our bridge, we see our past. We see all that has happened along the way on that bridge. We see our good times where the boards were sturdy and seemingly brand new. We also see rough times of trial where the planks were decayed and difficult to step lightly over. We also see that we have made it through. “Human life is a rereading of the past, a way to live the present and gain strength for the future”(Boff 41). For, as we look forward, we see all the possibilities that our life can take us to.
Perhaps our bridge is not simply one bridge at all. Perhaps it is a series of bridges. Perhaps we must choose each time to continue on the bridges with God or to leave him behind. Perhaps each day is a new bridge, a new challenge, and a new adventure. Perhaps each bridge is a new sacrament. When I wake up tomorrow morning, which bridge will I embark upon? Perhaps I will sit down, “afraid to take another step, and the old interior angel limps slowly in with her no-nonsense compassion and her old secret and goes ahead. ‘Namaste’ you say and follow”(Whyte).
