Search
A PLACE TO DIE
-
(This essay was written the weekend of 6th Sunday of Easter season)*
I was startled Saturday evening when walking toward the kitchen—a spider darted across in front of me. It wasn’t a huge one, but also not a tiny one—perhaps an inch in size. But it was the biggest spider I’d ever seen inside the rectory.
I thought of a Facebook post I’d seen, years ago, by a former student—“Is it all right for me to stay in a corner and eat bugs?” a spider asked. Of course, in this post the answer was a foot-stomping end to the spider.
I wondered if perhaps this spider was also just hungry and harmless. It actually followed me into the kitchen and curled up against the threshold of the doorway that divides the kitchen from the dining area. It remained very still while I fixed supper for myself.
Later that evening, going back into the kitchen to get the morning’s coffee set, I noticed that it had died. In case you are wondering, the body is still there; I don’t want to move it.
And I wondered: was it simply looking for a place to die? By not stepping on it, did I somehow give this creature a last touch of respect? And if I could offer that respect to a tiny spider, who else deserves the same respect from me?
There is a man I’ve seen several times, walking down Cody Rd. His hair is long and wildly unkempt, he wears what looks like a raincoat or trench coat, with a wide-brimmed hat, and carrying bags that, when I first saw him, I thought were groceries. Now I rather think they carried his possessions. He’s always been on the opposite side of Cody when I’m driving—I especially see him in the wooded area on the west side of the street, north of Smithfield/Windmill. He is surely homeless. Where did he spend the night? What is the story of what has happened to him? Is he also looking for a place to die?
In the Gospel today, Jesus sets His face resolutely toward Jerusalem; He is also looking for a place to die…
In the long run, we are all looking for a place to die, with dignity, with a sense of peace, with an awareness of being loved and of having made a difference, even if slight, in the lives of others. Not everyone finds this place. But perhaps in small ways we might help someone else to come closer to this place than that person might otherwise have been.
*On Thursday, 26 May, I buried the spider in the back yard.