Not long after the JFK assassination in 1963, I
recall reading Thornton Wilder's " The Bridge of
San Luis Rey " :
On a Friday in July in the year 1714 a famous
bridge in Peru collapses. Five people-who become
major characters in the novel-fall to their deaths
in the deep gorge below.
A certain thoughtful friar, Brother Juniper,
who witnessed the tragedy, is determined to investigate
the victims' lives, to make sense of it all, to uncover
a pattern that would reveal the divine wisdom in the
disaster.
When his book is finished, the pious man is astonished
to learn that it is condemned by the Church authorities:
" He had gone too far in explaining God's ways to
humanity. "
Brother Juniper is to be burned at the stake. He
meekly sees his own death as part of the divine plan.
But another more skeptical character concludes :
" There is a land of the living and a land of the
dead and the bridge is love, the only survival, the
only meaning. "
" All those impulses of love return to the love
that made them. "
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Ron