I have listened to Leonard Cohen’s powerful song “Treaty” countless times. Every note thrills the waiting heart. They are comfortable chords that cloak us in the inevitability of never quite knowing, yet loving anyway. It bids the mind rest.

If we are honest, our egos are never gonna make it into heaven. For we are illusory creatures born of dire necessity. We have to survive in this imperfect world. We have to be named and numbered, all the while hearing that we are unique and irreplaceable. The paradox begins at the first breath and doesn’t end until the last.

So this treaty must be always beyond reach of the human mind and heart. But to wish for one is a beautiful thing. We are admitting that we simply don’t know what lies beyond the reach of our humanity. We are limited creatures struggling mightily with unanswerable questions.

I feel Leonard’s struggle is mine, always. If he had told us he had solved the great mystery and signed the treaty, that would be cold comfort. Instead, he wishes and waits. And we with him. He confessed instead of promising anything signed, sealed and delivery like a treaty. Thank God for that.

As we lose loved ones, we storm heaven for relief and release and it is slow in coming. This is our perilous condition. No one knows when his or her number will be up. So Leonard confesses. He is not above us. He is with us as one of us. He is no untarnished angel; neither is he a black-hearted sinner. He regrets, he is grateful, he mourns, he celebrates. But not what you might think, for thinking is a rather useless activity for him. Better to leave the table, get out of the game, than linger too late at a game you can never win. And winning that game might be a great loss, anyway. Unknowing is often grace in disguise, a victory of a higher sort than the satisfaction of ink put to paper.

Vicki Woodyard