As one whose roots go deep into English soil, I was saddened by the tragic demise of Lady Diana but I confess that I do find it odd that there was this sense of near canonization of the dead princess. There can be no argument that in her last years, Diana developed an awareness that life held the prospect of perfection for no one. Her many confrontations with disappointment and disease led her to a compassion for others that was very public and, I believe, very helpful. Nevertheless, the outpouring of grief over her death appeared to me to be far beyond the actual benefit her tragically short life begot.

Of course, that same week Mother Teresa died and the juxtaposition was most revealing. Although Mother Teresa received a state funeral...and how bizarre to have this gentle advocate of peace saluted by 21 guns...her send-off was no more than a brief post-script on a week that was consumed by Diana's death. Certainly there should be no comparisons between the two as to the work accomplished. The great tragedy of Diana's life was its brevity. She was just, in a sense, getting started. Mother Teresa lived nearly three times longer than the princess. Still, I marvel over our elevation of the one to the saintly plane of the other.

I suspect some of this has to do with our need for heroes and heroines. In a world filled with ambiguity, it is very tempting to create super humans who will fool us into thinking that the answers of life really are simple and plain. I cannot tell you how many times I have sat and listened as someone struggling with the problems of life spoke of their desire to be like someone else. "If only my life was like Bill or Mary Soandso." What they don't realize or don't want to acknowledge, of course, is that Bill and Mary have their own set of problems and may even have expressed their desire to be like someone else, as well. The trick is not to try and be like someone else but to discover ways of accepting who we are.

The personal struggles of the princess were very public indeed but I would humbly suggest that Mother Teresa had her own demons as well. Neither was immune to the vagaries of life on this earth. Our problem is to find ways of integrating the good and the bad, the successes and failures. So many of us, it seems, are on a futile quest for perfection. We're searching for what is non-existent among homo sapiens. To take liberty with a popular title a few years back...I'm not OK, you're not OK...and that's OK!

Everyone of us has a dark side, a part of us that serves to remind us and others that we are anything but perfect. As sinister as this reality may be the real danger comes when we pretend it isn't there. This is a particular problem among public figures but certainly affects all of us. The wife of Bill McCartney revealed that even as the ex-coach was building the Promise Keepers into a nationwide evangelical movement, he was failing to keep promises with her. Her going public with this troubling truth is a recognition of its importance and a wonderful way of seeking balance and health.

The best funerals I have been privileged to preside over have included not just endless recitations of the deceased's saintly attributes but a few devilish ones as well. The realization that this person now dead was cherished in spite of that dark side...or even because of it, serves as an important reminder of our own lack of perfection.

In my religious tradition, we have a catchy little phrase that captures the truth of the human condition...simul justus et peccator. It may not roll off the tongue in its original form but translated it means roughly..."We are both saint and sinner."

Not either/or but both/and.