Letter to a Man in the Fire

Reynolds Price

The moment when Jesus washed my cancer wound and the moment, weeks later, when my legs were plainly failing. Alone in a dark bed, I asked how much more pain I must suffer; and a voice answered More.

The worst of all events that can befall our selves, our loved ones, or our people, are the appalling if not killing stretches of our lives in which God is silent and, in that silence, appears to torment us or someone near to us for no reason discernible by the human mind.

Observe that all of creation is the vehicle upon which you pursue the Creator's will. Attempt any change of pace or direction at your own dire peril. Relish the journey for however long it lasts and wherever it goes.

There is a point in this unique letter where Price refers to himself as an outlaw Christian. His perception of Christianity--or perhaps I should simply call it life--is not one you would hear preached from many pulpits. But he at least thinks things through and gets as close as anyone who settles to think the matter out.
The circumstances of the Letter are compelling alone. Sometime in the '80s, Price discovered he had spinal cancer and the doctors gave him 18 months to live. As he suffered through less than hopeful treatments and a failing body, he believes that Jesus came to him in a dream and washed away his cancer. Price did recover, though he permanently lost the use of his legs, is still alive twenty years later. Price published a book about the experience and hearing of it a young man by the name of Jim Fox, who was also recently diagnosed with cancer, wrote Price a letter asking why. Price's Letter to a Man on Fire is the response to this question.
Any letter dealing with such a weighty question--why God let's bad things happen to us--would be difficult enough, but add to this the fact that Jim Fox died not too long after he contacted Price, and the seventy or eighty pages of this letter will make you think.
Price draws few conclusions, allowing his thoughts to remain speculations--soft enough to be bring perhaps some small solace to pain-filled ears. But it is clear at the same time that Price's outlook, though serious, is not serious-enough to be joyful. At some few moments it seems he has almost peeked past our ignorance and distraction to the reality of vibrancy behind it, but these moments are rare.
Price is not a big enough fool to delve into the joy of the matter. Price, if he is a fool at all, is a very small fool--and that is the sadness of Letter to a Man in the Fire.