You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other. I shall come to the subject of religion by and by.
Your Friend, John Adams
To Thomas Jefferson, July 15, 1813
I’ve been reading The Adams-Jefferson Letters, the collected correspondence between Thomas Jefferson and the Adams, John and Abigail. It has been a real joy to set with each at their writing desks in Quincy, Washington D.C., Paris, London, and Albermarle County as they discuss the Revolution, the Constitution, religion, books, current events, and try to hold onto their friendship. Our 2nd and 3rd presidents had a great deal of affection and (more important to them) respect for each other. They shared the stage of history. Jefferson had befriended the Adams’ son John Quincy in Paris. Abigail had cared for Jefferson’s daughter Mary in London, and formed a maternal attachment to the motherless girl. Presidential politics, and the tabloid journalists caused a rift between the Adams and Jefferson, and there were virtually no correspondence between them from 1801 to 1812, apart from a few letters between Abigail and Jefferson after the death of Mary Jefferson Eppes.
Shortly before his death, founding father Benjamin Rush, a mutual friend of both, fostered a renewal of their friendship and correspondence, and in January 1812, Adams writes to Jefferson again. Their first, furtive attempts at reconnecting are a little painful to read. They try to talk about everything else but what had happened between them. A breakthrough comes in July 1813 when Adams ends his letter with the quote above: You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other… As the former presidents enjoy retirement – Jefferson his daily ride, Adams his daily walk – they gather their grandchildren around them, and look forward to the next letter from their dear friend. The two men die on the same day, July 4, 1826, the fiftieth anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence.
That phrase from Adams is one I will never forget, it pierces to the core. You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other. How true. Adams reminds us of the brevity of life, of how little we know even of those closest to us, and the urgency to really know something of each other. How many of us have, with even one other person, striven to know and be known?
Jesus did: No longer do I call you slaves, because a slave does not know what his master is doing. I have called you friends, for all the things I have heard from my Father I have made known to you (John 15.15). You both know me and know where I am from (John 7.26). If I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to myself, that where I am, there you may be also, and you know the way I am going (John 14.3-4).
Jesus came not to conceal but to reveal: No one has seen God at any time, the only begotten God, who is in the bosom of the Father, has revealed Him (John 1.18). Such openness is difficult for us because, unlike Jesus we have much we would prefer to conceal. Before God, though, nothing is concealed: For nothing is hidden, except to be revealed, nor has anything been secret but that it should come to light (Mark 4.22). We are not served by personal secrecy. God is Light, in him there is no darkness at all (I John 1.5).
That second phrase from Adams, I shall come to the subject of religion by and by, is challenging as well. How many friends do we have who never hear us “come to the subject of religion?”
Real communication, heart to heart openness is not easy, but it is what Jesus does, and what we are called to do.
