Copyright ©2009 Mitch Albom, Inc.
ISBN: 978-0-7868-6872-8
SP: PhP 795.00 (Hardcover, Powerbooks)
“Will you do my eulogy?” requests the rabbi. “Hallelujah anyhow!” sings the pastor. “Have a Little Faith” is the true story of three men – a suburban rabbi slowly welcoming death’s embrace, an inner-city pastor (a former drug dealer and convict) struggling to keep himself and his church afloat, and Mitch Albom who tarried into the two men’s world. Albom writes how in eight years he has milled about from one world to another in trying to know the rabbi to fulfill his request and in trying to gage how much of the pastor’s dark past should cloud his future.
Albert “Reb” Lewis was Albom’s rabbi in his old hometown in New Jersey. In the course of preparing for the eulogy, Albom visited him regularly and held interviews. In those conversations, Reb’s wisdom, unwavering faith, and love for singing are slowly revealed.
Henry Covington is a pastor in an inner-city church in Detroit. He runs a homeless center in his church. Because of this, he had crossed paths with Albom who supports charities for the homeless. Albom saw a rotting church with a big hole in the roof. In the course of the many visits and conversations, Albom discovered that the preacher is a suffering servant who believes he deserves hell for his past.
The third man, Mitch Albom, chronicles his own walk of faith in this book. He relates how he finds disquieting the expression of faith of some people and even by the lack of it of others. He accounts how his interaction with these two men of different faiths made him discover his own.
Written in simple reflective tones, the book is an easy read. I finished it in three sittings – in the airport, inside a fast food chain and in a park. It reaffirms the comfort of believing in something greater than ourselves, how faith connects us with those who have gone before us and with those who will be next in line, and the journey of finding our lives’ purpose. In the intertwined story, it puts forward the idea that despite having a fractured world, there is beauty in its variety. The book is refreshing for the heart.
Life’s Twilight
What I liked most about this book is its treatment on life’s twilight in the conversations of Reb and Albom. In the face of death, what would people be most afraid of it? While many fear the uncertainty of the next stage and the state of those who will be left behind, I tend to agree with Reb’s notion that most of us fear to be forgotten. While alive, we resort to so many notorieties to make our mark into others. But then, memories quickly blur. As Reb would sing (in page 128), “Ifff… I’ve done a good jobbb, then I’ll be re-mem-bered one generation, maybe two… but e-ven-tu-a-llllly… they’re gonna say. ‘What was his naaame again?’”
Saying the rosary has always been a strong devotion in our family, from my grandmother’s grandmother, and even way back. And I can relate to what Reb has pointed out. Whenever I am saying the rosary, I am enveloped in this warm thought that I am in touch with my family’s fabric in the past. Our faith and the tradition that comes with it make us connected.
