![]() ![]() ![]() I figured this would require a few in-person meetings. I would speak at his funeral-but only if he let me get to know him as a man, so I could speak of him as such. There were people mingling all around, but he kept smiling as if it were the most normal question in the world, until I blurted out something about needing time to think about it. Not by anyone-let alone a religious leader. ![]() It took me to churches and synagogues, to the suburbs and the city, to the "us" versus "them" that divides faith around the world.Īnd finally, it took me home, to a sanctuary filled with people, to a casket made of pine, to a pulpit that was empty.Īnd, as is often the case with faith, I thought I was being asked a favor, when in fact I was being given one.Ī few weeks earlier, Albert Lewis, then eighty-two years old, had made that strange request of me, in a hallway after a speech I had given. This is a story about believing in something and the two very different men who taught me how. ![]()
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