Last Saturday night before turning out the light, I finished a lovely novel by Kent Haruf, Our Souls at Night. The next morning in church, we sang a hymn I’ve always liked, “Come down, O Love divine.” And after reading Haruf’s little novel, I heard the hymn a little differently.Come down, O Love divine,
Seek thou this soul of mine,
And visit it with thine own ardor glowing.
In the opening pages of the novel, Addie Moore, a widow in her seventies, unexpectedly appears at the door of her widower neighbor, Louis Waters, just a few houses down the street. Addie is a quiet person who has lived a modest and simple life, but she has a suggestion for Louis. How would he feel about coming to her house after dark and sleeping with her? They could lie in bed together and talk before going to sleep; surely they would find each other warm and comforting.
Addie admits that she almost wasn’t able to pose her suggestion. After all, she and Louis hardly know each other. But nighttime is especially difficult for some who live alone, perhaps especially for some who are starting to realize that they probably do not have much longer to live. So, Addie tells Louis she finally decided that life was just too short, and she was going to admit that she would like to have someone lying next to her when she goes to bed.
Not surprisingly, Louis is taken aback by Addie’s suggestion. But he warms to the idea, puts his pajamas and a toothbrush in a paper bag, and when it turns dark, he walks down the street to Addie’s, where he discreetly presents himself at her back door. Addie gently scolds Louis, saying that if he comes to the back door, people in their small town will think that they are sneaking around, doing something they shouldn’t. Addie knows people are going to talk, but she’s tired of living her life worrying about what other people might say. Besides, they’re not doing anything wrong. They’re just going to be lying in bed together, keeping each other company in the dark, and sleeping through the night together.
I guess that’s enough for me to say about this compassionate and tender little novel. The book’s simplicity, brevity, and spare prose belie its complexity and depth. Its premise will sound salacious or naughty to some, but I think I would simply describe it as touchingly human, which might be another way of saying that there is something divine about it. As the second century saint Irenaeus famously said, “The Glory of God is a human being fully alive,” and surely we are most fully alive when we are tenderly loving and caring for each other.
So, this morning at church when we sang, “Come down, O Love divine, seek thou this soul of mine, and visit it with thine own ardor glowing,” I couldn’t help but ponder Our Souls at Night. Maybe what we wish would come down to us from heaven, God has already given to us here on earth.
Note: Copies of Our Souls at Night are on order and will soon be available in the Bookshop@St. Stephen's.
