I had a favorite page that I quote from that book pretty often:
There is a little wave, bobbing along in the ocean, having a grand old time. He's enjoying the wind and the fresh air — until he notices the other waves in front of him, crashing against the shore.
"My God, this is terrible," the wave says. "Look what's going to happen to me!"
Then along comes another wave.
It sees the first wave, looking grim, and it says to him, "Why do you look so sad?"
The first wave answers,
"You don't understand! We're all going to crash! All of us waves are going to be nothing! Isn't it terrible?"
The second wave says,
"No, you don't understand. You're not a wave, you're part of the ocean."
Morrie was raised Hebrew, but he wasn't a practicing Jewish. And for a Jewish man, this was truly a very Christian statement (though it was not intended). Take the Christian perspective on that quote. We are not just a whole bunch on individuals. We are a part of a bigger community; a community through God. When we die (because we will all die), we are afraid of leaving everything we know and love. We are afraid of being alone.
We are a culture that desperately needs to be accepted and loved. It's a human necessity. We don't want to be alone; in life or in death. I've been reading a book for my Discover New York (DNY) class entitled Strength in What Remains. In short, its about a young man from Burundi, who is stuck in a war-torn time. His country is victim to genocide. He sees many horrible and disturbing things which I will not attempt to describe. He escapes Burundi and makes it to the United States and is surprised when the country isn't as he expected. He arrives in New York. He finds himself surrounded by people, yet he finds himself alone.
There have been points when I have felt that. I have been on campus and been surrounded by so many students. There are several thousand that attend Saint John's University everyday. How can someone feel alone when they are surrounded by so many? To put it simply, I don't feel like many are going through the same situation that I am. It's a very different college expericance. Some kids party and get drunk on a regular basis. That is the stereo-typical college experiance. I refuse to drink, and even if I wanted to, the seminary doesn't allow it.
I rely on my brrother seminarians to tell me they are going through the same thing I am going through. I feel that I'm in withdrawl even though I'm sometimes putting myself out there to be noticed. How could someone try to do one thing, and have a completely opposite effect. We all have our crosses to bear. I guess this aspect of celibacy will be mine.
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