A reflection on life and death

A friend died this week. He was 27. Pete Veness had a rare kind of cancer.

He told us he was a no one special but we all knew he was. His funeral drew the Prime Minister and priests, authors and artists.

He graduated from the journalism school I attended - but a generation later.

Tributes flowed for him. Many spoke of his wit and wisdom, his fearlessness and profundity. Pete was angry he could not live into his old age but he was not angry with his God.

He railed against things outside of himself; complacency, poverty, triviality and to ask God for the strength to keep going to assist others without expectation.

Fellow parishioners at St John's Anglican Church in Canberra where he worshipped commented on how he was a rock to them; how he helped put their troubles in perspective.

Pete was hard headed. He was certainly stubborn and doggedly pursued truth - about things of this earth and heaven. He frightened the odd politician at doorstops on the hill but he could have a laugh with them too.

He had a peace that passes all understanding about what we call 'the end'. Maybe it was because he knew he used almost every minute he was given and that he had those moments because of God's grace.

Popular posts from this blog

Finding the sacred in a time of coronavirus

The earth is breathing easier. Can it beyond COVID-19?

Australia's bushfire emergency