Excerpt

Have a Little Faith

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I once asked the Reb that most common of faith questions: why do bad things happen to good people? It had been answered countless times in countless ways; in books, in sermons, on Web sites, in tear-filled hugs. The Lord wanted her with him . . . He died doing what he loved . . . She was a gift . . . This is a test . . .

I remember a family friend whose son was struck with a terrible medical affliction. After that, at any religious ceremony—even a wedding—I would see the man out in the hallway, refusing to enter the service. “I just can’t listen to it anymore,” he would say. His faith had been lost.

When I asked the Reb, Why do bad things happen to good people?, he gave none of the standard answers. He quietly said, “No one knows.” I admired that. But when I asked if that ever shook his belief in God, he was firm.

“I cannot waver,” he said.

Well, you could, if you didn’t believe in something all-powerful.

“An atheist,” he said.

Yes.

“And then I could explain why my prayers were not answered.”

Right.

He studied me carefully. He drew in his breath.

“I had a doctor once who was an atheist. Did I ever tell you about him?”

No.

“This doctor, he liked to jab me and my beliefs. He used to schedule my appointments deliberately on Saturdays, so I would have to call the receptionist and explain why, because of my religion, that wouldn’t work.”

Nice guy, I said.

“Anyhow, one day, I read in the paper that his brother had died. So I made a condolence call.”

After the way he treated you?

“In this job,” the Reb said, “you don’t retaliate.”   I laughed.

“So I go to his house, and he sees me. I can tell he is upset. I tell him I am sorry for his loss. And he says, with an angry face, ‘I envy you.’

“ ‘Why do you envy me?’ I said.

“‘Because when you lose someone you love, you can curse God. You can yell. You can blame him. You can demand to know why. But I don’t believe in God. I’m a doctor! And I couldn’t help my brother!’

“He was near tears. ‘Who do I blame?’ he kept asking me. ‘There is no God. I can only blame myself.’ ”

The Reb’s face tightened, as if in pain. “That,” he said, softly, “is a terrible self-indictment.”

Worse than an unanswered prayer?

“Oh yes. It is far more comforting to think God listened and said no, than to think that nobody’s out there.”

Copyright © 2009 Mitch Albom. Excerpted from Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

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by Mitch Albom | Have a Little Faith

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