O Fortuna

Dearest Rachel –

I know, I know; just from looking at the title here, you can practically hear the song, complete with the misheard lyrics. Feel free to have a chuckle or two at it before I get on with why I bring the topic up in the first place.

If I remember correctly, the actual lyrics of this song have to do with some medieval college student who is rather addicted to to drinking and gambling when not in class… and let’s just say that it’s clear that his field of study has nothing to do with economics or statistics. He’s not good at his avocation, despite the fact that he pursues it with great fervor, and as a result, he is starting to feel the financial pinch brought on by his pursuit. Rather than conclude that perhaps he should back off from his money-losing ventures, he blames fate (personified as Fortune) for his condition. Everything is due to change and luck, as far as he’s concerned, despite the fact that any outside observer could tell him otherwise. If you think about it, this doesn’t bode well for his formal studies, seeing that he refuses to learn the life lesson Experience puts before him, but I suppose that’s his own problem to deal with.

So what does that have to do with you and me? Well, assuming you’ve been reading these letters, you’re well aware of how I’ve been signing off each of them; it’s usually included a request for you to watch over me and wish me luck, accompanied by an assertion that I could use all the good fortune you could bestow upon me.

However, given the fact that, as Christians, we don’t believe in ‘luck,’ per se – even coincidences are looked upon askance as a thing where God simply doesn’t want to make His role in a matter look too obvious. While we agree that He blesses some people and allows harm to come to others – often, but not always, in relation to how closely they walk with Him and follow His plan for them – this isn’t so much a matter of ‘luck,’ as much as the benefits of obedience. Much like the wayward, and therefore penniless, student of yore whose lament Carl Orff set to such stirring music, our fortunes cannot be tied to some mythic external force we call ‘fate’ as much as they can to our own actions.

As such, I’ve been called to account for this sign-off from both sides of the generational ladders; both Dad and Daniel have, however gently and diplomatically, suggested I not make such a request of you going forward. First of all, as it’s not something we believe in to begin with, I shouldn’t be encouraging such belief in those that might be reading over your shoulder. If I appear to be doing poorly, I need to examine my own choices, as they may have led me to a bad place. But also, since God does bestow blessings on those who walk in His paths, that’s His to choose to do. You’re in His presence, yes, but it’s not as if you could (or should) influence what He intends to do. If anyone ought to make that attempt, if should be me going to Him directly, since that form of connection has been made available to me. I don’t need, and shouldn’t be availing myself of, some sort of intercessory intervention on your part with Him on my behalf.

They’re both right, of course; it’s one more proof that I’m the black sheep of the family, spiritually speaking. To be sure, I don’t rage at the heavens for having taken you – just to give the most obvious example – but I don’t always have the same sort of personal understanding that ‘luck’ and ‘chance’ don’t factor into what happens to us. The wicked do seem to prosper, after all, and supposedly good people suffer; it’s why much of humanity, even outside of Christendom, tends to assume that there must be something beyond the few decades of life we’re given. We all have an innate sense of what is or isn’t ‘fair,’ and life doesn’t always line up with that sense; so we attribute that difference to ‘luck,’ and expect the scales to be balanced out in the days beyond our lives down here, somehow.

Then again, I may be overthinking this whole thing. Maybe it’s just always been a poor choice of words on my part. People bid each other ‘good luck’ without any ability to bestow it all the time, and both parties know it. We’re just wishing each other well, wanting the best for the other going forward while we’re apart from each other. There should be nothing wrong with that – unless it’s in an endeavor that’s obviously going to ruin someone. Our gambling addict student, for instance, ought to have had a buddy who would have taken him aside rather than wishing him well on his next pub crawl, and let him know what’s what. He might have actually learned a lesson from such a moment, after all.

In any event, I would like to think that you would like to see me and Daniel thrive without you; certainly, as opposed to withering away in your absence, which we had nothing to do with and cannot undo, that would be preferable to all concerned. So perhaps I will just ask you going forward for you to continue to keep an eye on, and wish us well instead. Let’s face it; we’re still going to need it, regardless.