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CURRENTLY IN BOOKS
The value of literature

Mike Martens

Tuesdays with Morrie Mitch Albom. Random House, 2000.

There is something about the solidity of black type on white pages. Unlike TV or movies, books force us to create images within our minds, often with the effect of putting ourselves into the story, experiencing what the narrator reveals.

I was reminded of this after reading the best-seller Tuesdays with Morrie. What I find significant about this work is that, without saying what is right or wrong, it makes an argument. Author Mitch Albom presents certain characters and characteristics as noble or shameful. It is not moral commentary, yet we cannot help but admire what is good, and blush as we participate in what is shameful.

Albom writes of his obsession with his career, and the mundane existence it provided. He reflects back to days when his idealism was fresh and his hopes were high. He remembers his former professor, the man who instilled those passions, whom he loved as a father and whom he had promised to come back and visit. Have we not, with the best of intentions, all made such promises? Have we not all felt the shame of not following up? Do not many of us live with the sombre reality that we missed the chance to rectify our failure? Albom gives us hope.

While working away from home, in a hotel room with the TV blabbing on, Albom is jarred by a random glance at the screen. He turns the volume up and realizes his college mentor is the subject of an interview: “Terminally ill professor is honoured for a lifetime of academic service”. Albom is reminded of the promise he made to “Morrie” in his youth, and juggles his work schedule to take a moment and visit his old friend.

That first meeting awakens something in him that yearns for more, and he juggles his work again. After the next meeting, he sacrifices future appointments and cancels existing ones. His priorities are changing. We are as entranced as he is with this elderly, dignified professor who is struggling with the reality of being terminally ill. His health deteriorates weekly at first, and daily closer to the end. Like Albom, we wait on every word this old sage cares to share with us. We yearn for the advice of parents and elders we spurned long ago and have been too proud to return to. Though this is just a book, we are inspired to follow in Albom’s steps, to finally tell our loved ones that we love them, to visit that long lost friend or to forgive a sin long forgotten but still rotting in our soul.

Morrie struggles with the humility of being fed, dressed, bathed and wiped. There are days that pass by unremembered because they are filled with pain. Why not end it? Albom wonders. Because there is life yet to live, Morrie responds. There are past students to catch up with, there are lessons yet unlearned, and, though they seem few, there are yet things to enjoy. There is his story to tell.

The reversal in Albom’s life is complete – from spending every waking hour on the advancement of his career to spending every waking hour with a friend who is dying and who, once gone, will leave nothing but memories shared. We nod in affirmation that finally Albom is spending his time on something worthwhile. This is not a waste. A man dying is not a waste. Spending time with a dying person is one of the most valuable things we can do – for that person, but even more for ourselves.

I doubt anyone would say Albom is against euthanasia or anything so precise. But I can’t help but admire the dignity that is still possible even while one goes through the humbling experience of dying. As I lay the book down, I can’t help but think – I hope they don’t make it into a movie.

Mike Martens works for Focus on the Family Canada and attends Northview Community Church in Abbotsford, B.C.

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Last modified April 30, 2002.

© 2002 Mennonite Brethren Herald.
Published by the Canadian Conference of MB Churches.
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