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Meditation for August 23rd
Reading
“My Ride’s Here” by Warren Zevon (Artemis Records, 2002)
I was staying at the Marriott
With Jesus and John Wayne
I was waiting for a chariot
They were waiting for a train
The sky was full of carrion
"I'll take the mazuma"
Said Jesus to Marion
"That's the 3:10 to Yuma
My ride's here..."
The Houston sky was changeless
We galloped through bluebonnets
I was wrestling with an angel
You were working on a sonnet
You said, "I believe the seraphim
Will gather up my Pinto
And carry us away, Jim
Across the San Jacinto
My ride's here..."
Shelley and Keats were out in the street
And even Lord Byron was leaving for Greece
While back at the Hilton, last but not least
Milton was holding his sides
Saying, "You bravos had better be ready to fight
Or we'll never get out of East Texas tonight
The trail is long and the river is wide
And my ride's here"
I was staying at the Westin
I was playing to a draw
When in walked Charlton Heston
With the Tablets of the Law
He said, "It's still the Greatest Story"
I said, "Man I'd like to stay
But I'm bound for glory
I'm on my way
My ride's here..."
Meditation by Jeremy O’Neill
I usually try to stick to Holy Scriptures for my meditations, but today I thought I would use one of my favorite pieces of songwriting. Described by artist Warren Zevon as his “Meditation on Death,” My Ride’s Here was released a few months before he was diagnosed with mesothelioma, a form of lung cancer that ultimately killed him. The title track of the album comes last, and the lyrics are shown above.
The words to the song read almost like a hallucination, detailing the narrator’s farewell discourse intertwined with a tour through 20th century pop culture. Film and literary references abound alongside multiple allusions to scripture. The result is an epic journey alongside an epic cast of characters.
I try not to be too prescriptive about my views on life and death, as my own theology of these experience seems to be somewhat fluid. I do think, however, that it is worth considering the testimonies of people confronting their own mortality firsthand, as Zevon is in this song.
The first thing that jumps out to me in this song is how much of it takes place in hotels. This reminds us of the transience and temporary nature of this life in contrast to the permanence of God and the everlasting life we are promised in heaven. One could even think of our time on earth as a stay in a hotel room, before we are called Home to our creator in heaven in the life to come.
As I write this looking out over the Redeemer churchyard, I am reminded of what a lonely experience death can be. In death we are both separated from those we love on earth but simultaneously united with those we love in the life to come. In death we join the great communion of saints who have gone before us, and we rest with a great multitude in community. One only needs to gaze at the Redeemer churchyard to be reminded of the presence of generations of people who are still close to use even as they enter into the life to come.
In his last public appearance prior to his death, Warren Zevon promoted this album on the Late Show with David Letterman. Physically weak but displaying the quirky humor he was known for, Zevon can be seem on the show wearing a large cross above his cancer-ridden lungs. He famously told Letterman that his dire health situation reminded him to “enjoy every sandwich.”
The image of the cross on Zevon’s chest stuck with me as I listened to this farewell song. It reminded me of the stories from the early church of communities celebrating the eucharist on the tomb of a martyr, as a way of emphasizing that death does not have the last word. In Christ’s death and resurrection, death was defeated. For that we can give thanks, and hopefully live with a little less fear of our mortality. When our time comes, we are promised everlasting life in a place that is truly home, and for that we can give thanks.
Prayer, The Book of Common Prayer pg. 499:
Give rest, O Christ, to your servants with your saints, where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting. Amen.
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