I spent a couple of hours Tuesday morning with two of my favorite people: Lefty and Joanie Clark. I think I’d like for Diane and me to be them when we grow up.

Lefty just celebrated his 90^th birthday and I’m not sure of Joanie’s age, perhaps just a few years younger. Joanie has a very quick wit that is paired with a twinkle in her eye and one is never sure what you’ll get in response to a question.

They are simply a delightful pair and we have come to love them very much.

We met them through their two equally delightful daughters, Patty and Kiki, with whom we regularly gather and pray ever Friday morning at Susan’s house. Lefty and Joanie have five children and I think Diane and I may start lobbying to make it seven.

We have certainly become fast friends these past three years and they are a blessing in so many ways.

You can’t not smile and laugh when with them. Conversations about challenges they face given age and circumstance don’t last all that long and I always part company with them thinking the time was too brief.

Recently, I was invited into their apartment home in Escondido on a weekly basis. First, for Lefty to have another man to talk to (their senior complex houses far more women than men as is the norm) and, second, to chat about matters of faith that have recently tugged at Lefty’s heart. So, Lefty and I spend about a half hour alone before being joined by Joanie and we proceed together.

I can’t help but contrast this with the situation of my uncle who lives about a half hour away, is 96 and failing rapidly. He’s lived in the same house for over 50 years, a house I spent many summers in as a teenager and where I lived for several years in my early 20s. A brilliant man and former extremely popular college English professor and department chair, he has been reclusive for at least the last 30 years, widowed twice. We used to be very close and I’ll always appreciate how he looked out for me (well, we sort of looked out for one another) when I was living there after the death of my aunt, with whom I was very close. But he was never an affectionate man, living deeply within his remarkable and elaborate mind as he did. Even when he acted kindly, I was always being judged in some manner and I had it easy compared with some others. As the years went by, we actually found very little to talk about, other than reminiscing. He always wanted me to read his poetry (he was, after all, an apparently very accomplished poet) but try as I might, it was almost impossible to really understand the darn things. Now, some found him endearing and he was genuinely affectionate with his two stepdaughters and a couple of other women. On the other hand, he had an incredibly tumultuous relationship with his two sons, my cousins. After decades of dysfunction, they’ve fortunately made peace near the end. But many others found him distant. His circle is quite small and closed in.

In a conversation we had several weeks ago, he said what he’s miss the most (upon dying) would be his books and he fretted over what would happen to them. He has thousands of them and he said that they were his life. I know for a fact he has read them all, some of them numerous times. He was always naturally obtuse when it came to talk about what follows this life on earth. I know he enjoyed being that way. He said in that recent conversation that he is the most spiritual person he knows. Of course, I don’t believe he knows that many people any longer and I would hardly call him spiritual in any true meaning of the word.

I saw him last night, probably for the last time, as I’m currently up in the mountains and I doubt he’ll survive more than a couple of days. He requested no memorial. He leaves very little legacy and will be missed by only a small handful of people.

And herein lies the contrast and the point I’m led to make.

I suspect Lefty and Joanie would miss their children and grandchildren. And, when it’s their time (hopefully not soon!!), they will leave behind quite a legacy.

It is the contrast of head and heart, a struggle far too close to home for me but one that must be engaged.

Now, I know that my 96 year old uncle has a heart because I’ve seen it and experienced it, as have others. But, it a far inferior organ to his mind. And, without question, Lefty and Joanie are two very bright people, extremely knowledgeable and sharp as tacks late in life. But, it is their hearts that leap out.

I grew up with a strong heart that (in hindsight) was somehow always coming in second place to the life of the mind. I grew up in the shadow of people like my uncle, rather than with the warmth of people like Lefty and Joanie. Fortunately, my father mellowed a great deal with age and we became incredibly close in his latter several decades. But, my interior battle raged and it’s only been in the last ten years or so that its essence has been clear.

And, that essence is contained in the reality that one of my favorite people, Tim Keller (writing in a book about the Gospel of Mark), describes as The Dance.

You see, a Christian buys into a startling picture of things that has a very unique God at the center. A lot of people have God, or a god or some form of spirit, at the center. But only Christians have this thing called a Trinity. It was certainly a difficult thing for me to swallow for so many years. There’s one God but he or it is in three persons? Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Three in one. Not polytheism or many gods. Only one God but in three persons. Yes, persons.

What a challenge to wrap our heads around that!! One of the great obstacles to my search for truth. Like the problem with evil. But, then the blinders fell off and it all made sense. Yes, I’ve looked at it time again from many different angles but it always holds up.

Keller says the very essence of God is a loving relationship. Many Christians (and some others) tend to think of God as equivalent to Love. But we view it as God loves us. We don’t view it as God loves “themselves.” Think about that!

Keller, Lewis and so many other Christians have reflected on the nature of the love that exists between Father, Son and Holy Spirit. It is a dynamic, exciting, infinitely rich and joyful love. Keller calls it a Dance and he says it is the very essence of reality.

If he is right and I believe he is, then we are made to live in that reality. That Dance. It is said that we are created in God’s image. I’ve struggled a lot with that, trying to figure out what that means (if indeed it is true, which I believe it is). Is this a physical thing? Over the past dozen years, I have come to realize a deeper understanding of what it means to be created in the image of God. It means to live in loving relationship with him and others, among other things.

We can build all sorts of castles in our minds or in our lives. We can achieve all sorts of objectives. Learn all sorts of things. Chase who knows what? Material advantage? Fame?

If the Christian story is true, then love is the purest of things. Love in its most vivid and dynamic sense. It is Joy. It is Grace. A Dance that does not let go but invites and never ends.

I gaze in they eyes of Joanie and Lefty and they glitter. They glitter with both remembrance and future possibilities. They warm my heart and make me smile and laugh. Joanie looks at Lefty and, as we talked about all of this, she raises her hands and snaps her fingers as in rhythm. She wants to dance.

I gaze in the eyes of my uncle and there is largely emptiness. No promise. What was left unaccomplished?

Two competing realities. Which is true? I’ve made my choice.