We recently had a clergy conference for our diocese and it was hosted in our local parish. The lectures were given in the sanctuary and our topic was alcoholism and addiction. As the speaker described St. Augustine’s own moment of release from his own sins, the saint, lying prostrate on the ground beneath the fig tree, I had a startling realization. I was sitting in the same spot, on the same pew, where I had sat with my wife and daughter during the funeral of our son Mack. Just to my right his small, white casket had stood and within he laid prostrate. Five years earlier I had lain prostrate on that same spot during my ordination to the priesthood.
He had been laid, I lay; he was placed lovingly and carefully, I chose to fall to the ground.
2Sam. 12:20 Then David rose from the ground, washed, anointed himself, and changed his clothes. He went into the house of the LORD, and worshiped; he then went to his own house; and when he asked, they set food before him and he ate. 21 Then his servants said to him, “What is this thing that you have done? You fasted and wept for the child while it was alive; but when the child died, you rose and ate food.” 22 He said, “While the child was still alive, I fasted and wept; for I said, ‘Who knows? The LORD may be gracious to me, and the child may live.’ 23 But now he is dead; why should I fast? Can I bring him back again? I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.”