By Bill Karabinos

“And it is dying that we are born to eternal life.”

The last line of the Peace Prayer of St. Francis of Assisi; a verse that many of us recited or sung a number of times. A verse that we don’t think of - or want to think of too often. And yet, what other way is open for us to enter our Father’s house.

The Mass of the Resurrection is celebrated in white vestments and the theme is one of victorious triumph and joyous attainment of our ultimate goal; yet our tears are seldom tears of joy.

Do we wonder why God calls the young as well as the old? Are our tears reflections of our lack of faith or symbols of finding hope when we weep or mourn over the loss of a loved one? Who can offer words of adequate explanation to a mother and father who has lost a son - and a daughter; to a sister who has lost her sister and brother?

Robert and Majorie Lind, brother and sister, 17 and 15 years old respectively, died Sunday morning, the 10th of June in a tragic automobile accident in Gwinnett County. Their death stunned, sorrowed, shocked the relatively new and close-knit parish community of St. John Neumann in Lilburn, Georgia.

Can we imagine the chaos felt by their parents; Bob and Betty Lind, and their younger sister Susan? Maybe we can - but only if our hearts are as loving as the hearts of the Lind family. Only if our willingness to sacrifice and give is a portion of the willingness that this special family possesses. Then, and only then, can we comprehend the words of St. Catherine of Siena, quoted by Father Paul Reynolds, at the Mass of Resurrection: “God unites and separates as He sees fit.”

The evening before the unexplainable accident, Robert Lind, Jr., led approximately one-fourth of the parish community of St. John Neumann in song and praise at the regular Saturday evening Mass. Robert had started the Folk Group with the inception of the parish, almost two years ago. He never played his own Church. That structure only now nears completion. But he played and sang (sometimes alone) these last two years and watched his group grow to five, 10 and 20 members. He practiced with them and somehow instilled in them his unique sense of humor, so that, as much as their songs, their smiles were “heard” at the Saturday evening Masses.

Majorie, his younger sister, had that same sense of humor and was noted for her enthusiastic school spirit. Her friends, at Parkview High School, recall how she was “always making them laugh” and how she was a “very humorous, fun-loving and loving girl.” Her sweetness and her internal peace were radiated by the delicate beauty of this quiet, enchanting girl. She like her brother, attracted friends with her humor, her sincerity and her latent leadership qualities.

Robert had just graduated from St. Pius High School, and reflected every good quality that Catholic education strives to instill into its graduates. He was loved, respected and cared for by that school’s community, and particularly by his graduating class, where he was so well known. Father Terry Young, his principal at St. Pius, who concelebrated the Mass of the Resurrection with Father Reynolds, Father Ken Bayer of St. Patrick, Norcross and Father Dominic Young of St. Pius, said of Robert: “Here was a kid, a great kid, a hard worker, who was active in so many things.”

Mass for Robert and Majorie was celebrated at The Good Shepherd Presbyterian Church on Killian Hill Road in Gwinnett County, Tuesday morning, June 12. It was a most moving and expressive symbol of our hope-filled Catholic faith. The turnout of students from St. Pius and Parkview High Schools, as well as the parishioners of St. John Neumann, indicated the real esteem in which these young people were held.

The Rosary Monday evening in the Lilburn funeral chapel, was deeply expressive and reflected again the regard of so many, young and old, for these two beautiful children - servants of God, who had returned to their Father’s house.

There is no way to adequately describe the sorrow shared by so many young people, most of whom had experienced death “close to home” for the first time. No words, nor artistic brush - no sculptor’s hammer or molder’s clay - no color photograph nor even a Rockwell sketch can capture the feelings in the heart of Bob, Betty and young Susan Lind in the loss of their children; brother and sister. These feelings, emotions and anxieties cannot be put on paper. We can easily see though, how it can tear their insides and numb their nerves.

The immediate loss of the Lind family is not a momentary setback, but an enduring hurt that will continue beyond these sensitive days. They wanted and had planned great things for their children and imagined years of great happiness together, and then - sorrow. They know the joys that the last 17 years had provided; they know the warmth of their daughter’s love and their son’s affection. And they positively know the inherent goodness that both children possessed.

Despite their sorrow, their loss, their grief, Bob and Betty Lind were the comforting strength of an expanding Christian community. Their faith in the Resurrection, the firmness of their belief that their children had gone home to their Father, reversed the roles of mourners and comforters.

Bob and Betty sensed the hurt that the young friends of Robert and Margie were experiencing; they sensed the discomfort and empathetic sorrow of their friends, relatives and the parish community. Because their loss was the greater, they seemed to possess and display a strength that was equated.

There was no doubt as to the love that this family shared; the unity, family spirit and warmth were openly evident and poured out toward their every associate. So there can be no doubt as to the depth of loss they are enduring. And too, because they loved the more, the separation and realization of the loss, hurts the more.

Walter F. Murphy’s entrancing new novel, “The Vicar of Christ,” has a few lines that are reflective of feelings during the onset of such a tragedy: “I am not secure either. God confuses me. That is His mode. I speak what finds itself in my heart, not in my mind. Know your God first, then curse Him if you must, but then forgive Him. Do not condemn the stranger, least of all if He is your God.” Many of us lash out during a time of tragedy. “Why me, Lord? Why did it have to be them?” Maybe too, we do lay the blame on our God and curse one we do not know or understand. We too must be quick to forgive; for so often it is in these crises that we begin to know the God who is merciful and the Christ of Resurrection.

The Lind family is not a stranger to their God. Their faith, love and conviction in the Resurrection echoes the Gospel of Christ, the Peace Prayer of St. Francis and the words of St. Paul: “If Christ has not risen from the dead, then our faith is in vain.” Their strength and devotion to the Church has been an inspiration of unselfish service in the past, a sermon reflecting their faith in the present and an example for the future.

Who, among the witnesses of their grief, can forget the gratitude and appreciation they exchanged for the tributes to their children - especially those who attended the Mass of Resurrection and heard the Communion Hymn “To The Morning” sung by two of Robert’s classmates from St. Pius, and were moved like never before. That song, the young men singing, the congregation listening, and the parents gratefully accepting the tribute, is Christian love reflected in memorable - months or years away - joy.

Contrary to the headlines in the Atlanta paper, Robert and Margie Lind did not die doing nothing. For even in their death, they have continued to build up God’s Church and strengthen His people.

No, we cannot understand God’s modes. He does confuse us. He has a reason for permitting this sorrow, and the only reason He can have is love. He so loved the world that He gave His only-begotten Son, and He so loved these children that He called them to Himself. Maybe He was lonesome for their smiles.

He will bless this family for accepting His will without flinching and we can pray that He will give us great strength in the future. Of course, we can only expect it in proportion to the knowledge we have of Him.

The parishioners of St. John Neumann have established a Memorial Fund in the memory of Robert and Majorie Lind. It is only appropriate that the new Church in Lilburn contain a reminder of how the message of Christ should be accepted and lived; a direction finder for those who may have lost their way - home.

From Father Brennan Manning’s book “Souvenirs of Solitude,” we find a prayer that comes close to what we might imagine God saying to those two youngsters on a June morning in Georgia.

“I am setting you free, my brother, my sister...I am dissipating darkness and discouragement, I am banishing gloom and pessimism...I am liberating you, from pettiness, envy, jealousy and insensitivity. I am drawing you together in my love. I am leading you myself into the Promised Land of peace and concord where my little ones dwell in harmony, forgiving, accepting and loving one another.”