Tim Pennings: Why must the beautiful die?

EDITOR'S NOTE: The views and opinions expressed are those of the writer and not of Ottawa News Network.

I’m a student of the Bible. But the older I get, the more I find in it with which to disagree.

Take, for example, the most ancient book of the Bible, Job. This book struggles honestly with the problem of pain for 42 chapters. But then the author blows it in the last six verses. It’s similar to attending an inspiring orchestra concert concluded by a rapturous piece and thundering ovation. Then the director diminishes the memory of the powerful concert by playing some little ditty as an encore. 

Similarly, without the last half-dozen verses, the book of Job makes a powerful point: Pain is part of life. Moreover, it’s capricious — it makes no sense. What is there to do except to accept it stoically and be willing, as did Job, to die naked as he had been born naked. That’s what life is. That’s what life is. That’s what life is. But the author couldn’t stomach the honesty. Hence, he tags on a “they lived happily ever after” ending as Job gets back everything double over. 

The Psalmist tries. He honestly admits that “the rain falls on the just and the unjust.” But that really misses the point. What has justice to do with it? Bible students especially should be fully aware that life isn’t fair. Jesus’ parables (Matthew 20: all workers get the same compensation) and the Apostle Paul (Romans 9) explicitly argue that life isn’t fair. Most 8-year-olds have learned the lesson. 

Instead, the most honest lament of tragedy I’ve encountered is from Stephen Foster. In a less-well-known song, he asks, “Ah! may the red rose live alway, To smile upon earth and sky! Why should the beautiful ever weep? Why should the beautiful die?” Find the entire poem online — it’s powerful. 

Why indeed? 

I just now returned from kayaking the Au Train River. I passed through my favorite place where my good friend Ryan Weaver and I used to have breath-holding contests underwater. He and his wife, Leanna, have been joining me at my cabin for a week each summer for the past 11 years. I watched the family grow from two, to pregnant, to now an 8-year-old. During that time, I watched Ryan spend endless hours playing Legos and building sand castles with Beckett. 

To watch him, you’d think it was Ryan’s favorite activity. Their pics decorate my fridge. 

Simply stated, Ryan is the most beautiful person I have ever known. He was my Hope College research student and a cross-country runner. The afternoon of June 9, 2012, I celebrated their joy-filled wedding, in stark contrast to the funeral of Hope colleague brain-cancer victim David Klooster that morning. 

Since that time, we stayed close. Indeed, I chose Ryan as my medical power of attorney and he came to my aid five years ago following a heart attack and anticipating quad-bypass surgery. My nurse, when she discovered I had taught at Hope, told me she had good friends from there. Of course. 

So it was an ironic twist when, 16 months ago, Ryan called and asked if I could meet him at Spectrum because, while running, his leg was dragging and his arm swinging involuntarily. 

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Ryan handled brain cancer with the same positive drive as he handled living. Through his network of friends, his surgery was done by the Duke University surgeon who operated on John McCain and Ted Kennedy. He volunteered for experimental studies and kept to a strict diet without a bit of sugar — all to live as long as possible for his wife and son. Learning that it might be beneficial, he trained his body via holding his breath — up to 5 minutes. That’s commitment. 

Why must the beautiful die? Why indeed. Irony of ironies, his whole life as a father, Ryan wore long sleeves at the beach to avoid the sun, ate a scrupulously healthy diet, no plastic bottles. ... Like Abraham, Ryan was blessed to be a blessing, and he took his commitment seriously. Yet now cancer has had its say. 

C.S. Lewis argued in his essay “Learning in Wartime” that since death comes for us all, it doesn’t really matter whether it comes at age 20 or 90. Bullshit! My 41-year-old friend expressed it powerfully: “I WANT TO LIVE!” Of course. 

I have kayaked the Au Train for 15 years. Today, for the first time, I returned home soaked from a drenching downpour of rain. Each drop was a tear. 

— Community Columnist Tim Pennings is a resident of Holland and can be contacted at timothy.pennings@gmail.com. Previous columns can be found attimothypennings.blogspot.com.