Together

On Sunday, those who had gathered for worship were invited to view a body that was lying in state at home. I did not know the family, but I did know the man who had passed for he was a member of a church where I occasionally  lead worship, and that was where I was that day.  I was reluctant; I was not sure I could find the house. Would I be imposing because I did not know the family?  Fortunately, another woman knew the way, but was hesitant to go alone. Together, we traveled what was actually a short distance. Others joined us. As we gathered around the body, grandchildren casually came and went.  The room became a  weaving of stillness and movement, peace and sorrow, tears and laughter.   A cool breeze blew through the opened windows encircling us all.  Stories of the past surfaced, as did the inevitable silence of the present. A prayer was spoken.  The venerable oak trees continued to grow. The children decided to go swimming.   

 

I asked permission to photograph the cremation box.  Friends and family had adorned that plain cardboard box with love notes and drawings. We added ours.  Ashes to art to ashes once more. I think I will always remember that gentle breeze and that gentle man who graced this life with love and encouragement, and then moved on. Because of him, our own journeys have a little more meaning.      

 

In some long-term care communities, the word death is never spoken.  Fortunately, there are those of us who come, daring to say the word right out loud. Not to cause fear, but to help us all remember our shared destiny.  In one of his early books about death and dying, Stephen Levine wrote that  learning to accept the small deaths in our lives can help us prepare us for the final surrender of our physical bodies. "We are members of the community of impermanence."* 

Let's learn to die into this life together. The distance is shorter than we realize, and we have love notes and invitations to help guide our way. Deciphering them is easier when we do not try to go it alone.

     

   

Thought 22 - Paradoxes

The Art of Pastoring

William Martin

If you want to bring healing to your people, 

show that you are wounded. 

If you want them to do what is right, 

show that you have done wrong. 

If you want them to be filled with God, 

show that you are empty. 

If you want them to have life abundant, 

show them how to die. 

If you want everything good for them, 

show them how to give everything up. 

 

When Jesus said, "You must die in order to live,"

he spoke a basic truth. 

There is no other road to life.  

 

   

* Unattended Sorrow, Stephen Levine, page 33