Every person is a world

This morning, R and I went to a service honoring my friend M.'s brother, who recently died a sad and early death in Mexico. I hardly knew this brother, though we would regularly meet at birthday parties, dinners, and other events, this due in no small part to my poor hearing. If someone is across a crowded table, that person might as well be a mile away, and even sometimes if the person is sitting next to me, I have trouble hearing him. This is particularly true of men since I have low frequency rather than the usual high frequency hearing loss.
Even without my hearing aids, which I sadly did not think to put on, I gathered that this was a fascinating and very complex person, one who, as R. noted, was born hundreds of years too late, since he seemed like a natural shaman, one who drew both animals and people to him and felt his passions very deeply. It is hard for such a person to live in a world like ours, and life seems to have overwhelmed him early on. We heard those people who loved him most speak of him, and sat down to share their sorrow and to celebrate the life of this person who never quite realized the potential all of them were sure he had.
In the process, I learned more about another tradition, since the service was held at an Episcopal church. I was impressed by the warmth and kindness of the pastor (if that is what one calls an Episcopal clergyman), and found the service uplifting and affecting. I have not always felt this of the services I have attended in the past, whether they were Jewish, Christian, or from various other traditions.
It was a small, dark chapel, evidently with a small congregation, since there are not fixed lines of chairs or pews, but rather only a circle of chairs that could be placed or removed in whatever configuration was needed. But it was simple and beautiful, in the style of the old mission churches, with only dim lights from fixtures and the rest the muted colored lights filtering through stained glass of a very traditional design.
Tonight I will go to our synagogue to watch a one-man play starring Ed Asner, Number of People, playing the part of a Holocaust survivor. I have always liked Asner, so it will be interesting to watch him from this close, and possibly also to greet him after the performance. However, this may not be permitted, since the audience will be divided into groups by the amount they are paying for their tickets. This is a fund-raiser, after all, and that means that general admission tickets may not grant holders the privilege of going to an oneg after the performance. I have noted in the past that I do not much like this sort of practice, which creates rifts between members in the community, but I understand that the synagogue takes money to run, the building is expensive, etc... .