“It’s not me, it’s us.”

This might sound like a strange thing for The Happy Narcissist to say . . . but maybe that’s why he calls himself “Happy.”

The two twin portraits above bookend forty years for me and my beautiful bride; from 1979, the year before we were wed, to 2019, the year before COVID19 tried to kill us both. It didn’t succeed, but had it done so, we couldn’t have complained or felt we’d been shortchanged in any way. We’ve had a wonderful life, and we both know that we’re living on borrowed time . . . as are we all, ever since the so-called “Fall of Man.”

When I pray, I don’t like to pray for “me.” I like to pray for “us.” When I sing worship to my possibly imaginary Friend, I often change any lyric from “me” to “us.” Why? Because my Friend said so. That’s why. And it feels right to pray for “us” and to worship Him as “us.” And even for those who don’t believe in my possibly imaginary Friend, living for “us” is better than living for “me,” isn’t it? I mean, unless you are Ayn Rand or Vladimir Putin or Pol Pot or . . . well, you get the picture.

I’m no communist, mind you, just a “Jesus Freak.”

The one preaches altruism by putting a gun to your head.

The Other . . . oh and He’s “Other” all right . . . invades your soul with His . . . and He IS Love.

Bruce Cockburn sang a new song for us on Saturday night that is actually as old as Eden, and the words as revolutionary as Jesus Christ.

The just the merciful the cruel
The stumbling well-intentioned fool
The deft the oaf the witless pawn
The golden one life smiles upon
The squalling infant in mid-squall
The neighbors fighting down the hall
The list is long; as I recall
Our orders said to love them all

The cynic and the crooked priest
The woman wise the sullen beast
The enemy outside the gate 
The friend who leaves it all to fate 
The drunk who tags the bathroom stall 
The proud boy rushing to his fall,  
The list is long; as I recall
Our orders said to love them all

The pastor preaching shades of hate
The self-inflating head of state
The black the blue the starved for bread
The dread the red the better dead 
The sweet the vile the small the tall
The one who rises to the call 
The list is long but as I recall 
Our orders said to love them all

The one who lets his demons win 
The one we think we’re better than 
A challenge great—but as I recall 
Our orders said to love them all