In the words of the Tragically Hip, it can’t be Nashville every night. The Eyes of the Heart is Frederick Buechner’s fourth and final memoir. Published in 1999, the 73 year-old author ponders the books and curios in his library (the Magic Kingdom), summoning memories and musing on the afterlife.

There is still much to admire in Buechner’s prose and spiritual acuity, but the impact of his early memoirs is somehow missing. Most tragically for me, however, was this confession:

But maybe beneath that lies the fear that if I say too much about how again and again over the years I have experienced holiness—even here I find myself drawing back from saying God or Jesus—as a living, healing, saving presence in my life, then I risk being written off as some sort of embarrassment by most of the people I know and like. (180)

It’s clear that Jesus was (and is!) a profound saving presence in Buechner’s life. He even wrote a book called The Faces of Jesus. It pains me to think he feared that the people he knew and liked would write him off, should he explicitly name the one in whom, through whom, and for whom he was created.

I’m deeply thankful for Buechner’s life and writing—especially his early memoirs along with novels like Godric and Brendan. Perhaps his inability to speak plainly about Jesus prompted the elusive holiness of these works. Regardless, it’s comforting to know that on August 15, 2022, his faith became sight.

Buechner, Frederick. The Eyes of the Heart: A Memoir of Lost and Found. HarperCollins, 1999.