I can tell by her voice what it is going to be about. More specifically by the way she says, “Dad” or “Daddy” over the phone. I know Bethan so well, that the inflection, tone and emphasis on the syllables are a dead give away for what my daughter needs when she calls. There are basically three different “tones” of address that informs me of what is on her mind. First there is the “Dad!” tone, very staccato—short, abrupt, excited. I know when I hear this that she is overjoyed by some new book, band, or idea she is thinking about. There will be laughter, joy and we will compare notes on what we are each reading. Then there is the “Dad-dy”, two syllables, with a nice southern ring to it, but kind of sad tone. I know what this tone means—she needs some love. For whatever reason, she is down and just needs to talk. And last and the one I dread is the “Dad-dy”, similar to the one just mentioned but this one has a note of irritation and agitation in it. When I hear this one on the phone I pause before she says anything and say, “Bethan, I am driving will you please wait till I can pull over before we talk.” Or, if I am in my study, I say, “Bethan, will you please wait till I sit down.” The reason I do this is because this means something has happened to her car, there is an unexpected expense or something that is going to cost a lot of money is about to be discussed. You wouldn’t know this about her, but I do.

It is one thing to know something about someone; it is an all-together different thing to “know” someone. When communication is done with more than words, but in tones and looks you can be sure that there is a deep level of connection going on. I would further say that most of our problems have to do with relational issues—the inability to know and be known at a deep level. I just finished a book about a sniper in Vietnam, and I am fascinated by what happens to people in crisis situations. The writer of the story was emotionally disconnected from his mother and father when he left for Vietnam and was virtually a loner in his hometown. Why would he re-enlist and put himself continually in harm’s way when he could have checked out after a brief tour of duty? Recently, I was talking to Rik Talley who has just finished reading and watching, Band of Brothers, a story of the elite 101 Air Borne division in World War II. To this day, these men cannot think about that time of pure hell, with out weeping. In fact, if one of the soldiers was injured while in the thick of the war ended up in a hospital he would escape and make his way back to his division. Who in their right mind would trade some R & R and a chance to be “safe” to throw himself back into a foxhole?

It has something to do with the way we were built. We were made to know and be known at a deep level. The need for community and knowing is a legitimate God given need that is in each of us, to the point where you find folk in the army who would do anything to get back to a group of guys who they had lived, eaten and bleed with. One of the interesting things about the sniper book was that as you read about the characters, it was the guys who were deeply connected and known back home who, for the most part, opted out and headed home at the first opportunity. The ones who had never really had any connection to people or place and found it for the first time when thrown into a foxhole—stayed. What is so powerful in the human personality that would lead people to prefer the possibility of death or injury to the relative safety of being home? My guess is that just as there are no atheists in foxholes, we might say in a positive sense, true community is formed in a foxhole. For whatever reason the experience of war or crisis forces many people who where totally disconnected and abstracted to relate, depend, share and enter into deep relationships that connected them to people long after the bombs stopped.

Which brings me back to my daughter. She is strong-willed, self-sufficient, smart, and witty and yet a voice from someone who knows her intimately is enough to calm her aching heart, double her joy and laughter or fill a lonely place in her heart (whichever the case maybe). Most of our problems are relational problems. We don’t know how to relate, or we have put up a wall and refuse to relate. The reasons for this are infinite, but when this happens problems will happen and the brokenness that is experienced will come out in many different ways. So many of the problems we face, for instance, attraction to pornography, are just a symptom of an inability to relate and be connected. The usurer of pornography is using an illicit means to satisfy a legitimate need. To have sexual desire is not wrong, in fact it is a good thing, but when we try to satisfy this good need in an ill proscribed manner, it only adds to the loneliness and meltdown that will occur in a life.

This is also why St. Paul would pray for his parish (and I paraphrase) that they might have their eyes open to know the height, width and depth of the love of God. Of course they know about this stuff, they have heard all this. It is not enough. Paul is saying, “I want you to experience the embrace of God till you feel it, till it fills all the empty, broken and lonely places of your heart.” Unless you embrace and are embrace by God and know the reflect action of that embrace which is to know and be known in a deep manner by others, to some degree your life will be marked by deep inter emptiness. We can only hope that in a culture that offers novelty and amusement, it will not take foxholes for people to make finding their way into deep community a life priority.