Jonathan Stewart Paton 5 July 1936 – 26 June 2006

So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed
and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.

Colossians 1:19-20 (The Message)


The peace with which you departed last midwinter, has held me close this last year. I remain thankful for how things came together at the end. Your lifelong struggle against the authority-based religion imposed on you at a young age by cruel forces beyond your control was not in vain.

Our hard earned honesty meant you knew where I stood, you knew I rejected your petulant juvenility, your indulgence, your inability to hold me, your absence. But regardless of that, I now remember you as a lamb, an ungrown, a sort of innocent, whose very passivity brought salvation.

It went against all my hubris, all my action, my iron will for meaning, and in a sense you have prevailed. You were the Dionysus to my Apollo, you were the pleasure seeker to my meaning addict, and I the father to your child. Actually, this argument has been won not by you or I, but by Grace.

Umzimkulwana ceremony 2Umzimkulwana ceremonyI have no doubt that you saw how we as a family scattered your ashes into the Umzimkulwana River. You saw how out of your legacy we managed to hold a ritual rich and generous in honor of your life. Without priest or leader, meaning simply flowed as each and every member of your family gave something of themselves, back to you, back to the waters, back to our shared origins. We each took several handfuls of ash and within a few days, those tokens of your earthly life were in the Indian Ocean. Rejoined with the oneness of all creation. Free at last.

As you are now. And us to, us too.

Looking a lot thinner now...
The Awe
Song of sadness