“Each of us dies with our work incomplete.”

–Maxim 5

intended destination). Some people have told me that they find this very short ministry depressing. I guess I can see that. On the other hand, it’s a bit like “things are always in the last place you look”, or “a letter always reaches its destination”. Not as much of an absolute tautology as those, in that one doesn’t generally look anywhere else for something once they’ve found it (and no-one says it can’t also be in the first place you look), and wherever a letter arrives is, by definition, its destination (even if it isn’t thedestination).

No, this one is, to me, extremely simple in essence and very complex in implication. The essence is simply this: there is always more we might have done. Every life that ends is a loss of someone who could contribute, albeit some of that loss may have occurred earlier than the point of death in the case of senescence or degenerative and/or progressive illnesses. Whatever you do, whatever amazing work you have done, you could always have done more.

Does that make you feel despondent, hopeless, maybe even a sense of pre-emptive guilt? That’s where we get on to the complex implication, which I more than half suspect is a fairly familiar idea in some non-Christian faith traditions.

If this is the same for everyone, why should you feel guilt, or indeed anything negative? I’m not talking about logic like “well, everyone jumps queues sometimes, so I can feel fine about doing it”, because in that case ‘everyone’ is an exaggeration, and the ‘sometimes’ is a qualifier. Sometimes people jump queues. Not everyone jumps queues all the time. But everyone, everyone dies with more they could have done in the world.

Does it mean, then, that you should make sure that you do as much as you possibly can, leave as little as possible not done? Well, that’s for each of us to decide, but I don’t think so. No, what I feel this ministry is trying to give us – and I don’t consider my view authoritative, as I’ve said several times before – is actually acceptance. You can’t do it all, however hard you try. You can’t fix everything, you can’t save the world. Even if you work alone all your life, your work will have to be carried on by someone else in order to live on.

So accept it. Accept that others can share the burden, accept that some things will remain not done.

It’s not easy, mind you. I accept it intellectually myself, and I think reflecting on this since I first wrote it down has helped me accept it on a deeper level, but there’s still a long way for me to go. It’s a balance, because if you take this too far you end up drifting into complacency instead. But for some of us (yeah, guilty right here) letting go of the sense that you need to do all the things is really important, but really hard. Spending more time dwelling in the quiet and trying to deepen your awareness of the Spirit (or whatever equivalent practice those of other faiths might have) definitely helps, but the Spirit isn’t going to do it all for us. We can find many guides, but we have to be our own driver of change.