Friday, March 20, 2009

From Feb. 11: Mortality

With our new administrator, we've been looking through the files and cleaning up some of the old. I was just going through one cabinet and found the living will of someone who had probably died more than ten years ago-strangely poignant, to lean through time and hear about her desires for care. Mortality is much on my mind, preparing for Ash Wednesday on the 25th-and we buried George Wilkes this morning, too. The words from our burial service, "Even at the grave we make our song, alleluia, alleluia, alleluia" echo in my mind. The prayer book has some of the best poetry I know in it, and the rite for burial must be the best of it.

George was not terribly old-he was 71-and died gently in his sleep at home. He'd suffered from dementia for some time, and so his wife, Louise, who has long been part of this community, arranged for caretakers to come when she was at work or doing errands. This didn't leave for much time to come to church, so I'd bring her communion once in a while. Whenever I arrived, George was always sitting in the easy chair in the living room. He'd show me his joke calendar and tell me the joke for the day, and then Louise and I would go into the kitchen and talk.

It's really hard to take care of someone who is sick-I don't think Louise will feel singled out for me mentioning her in this email, because it's an experience that a lot of us have had. Toward the end of her life, my grandmother stayed with us for a while, and it was hard-a strain for the whole family, certainly, but I'm not sure how it could have been any other way at that time. Families take care of each other; it's what we do.

"It's what we do"-it's what we do, but it's still hard. I've been listening to a CD of the teachings of the Tibetan Buddhist writer Pema Chodron, and she talks about how the difficulty of our life is just more food for our spiritual growth. Buddhism teaches that through accepting suffering and "making friends" with it, we are able to grow and change.

Acceptance is certainly important (the alternative, after all, is not very productive), but the Christian take on things is pretty different. We pray to meet everything as an opportunity to serve Christ-"when you did it to the least of these, you did it to me" (Matthew 25:40). That entails acceptance, but also something deeper. One of the most beautiful eulogies I've ever heard was at the funeral for Jasmine Noel Corliss (her grandmother is a member here), who died last fall. She was just 2 years old, and had severe disabilities throughout her life. The person who spoke talked about how much life and love she had called out of her siblings and parents and family members-how they had grown because of her. Though her death was tragic, the mystery of life is such that God is with us even in the most difficult times. God is able to bring us near in those times. Not just to "get through it" but to serve Christ. And so the care-taker and the cared-for both give glory to God in their own way.

Compassionate God, support and strengthen all those who reach out in love, concern, and prayer for the sick and distressed. In their acts of compassion, may they know that they are your instruments. In their concerns and fears may they know your peace. In their prayer may they know your steadfast love. May they not grow weary or faint-hearted, for your mercy's sake. Amen.

Donations in George Wilkes' memory may be made to Grandma's Pantry here at Christ Church or to the Alzheimer's Foundation in Watertown.

Next week, I'll be on retreat with the Sisters of Saint Anne in Arlington. Since Monday is a holiday, I'll be off the computer (and out of the office) starting this Sunday afternoon (the 15th). I'll be back to it by the 22nd, so I won't be missing a Sunday. Of course if there is a serious emergency, I can be contacted at home. Our new parish administrator, Kristina DeFrancesco, will be holding down the fort during our regular hours, from 10 to 2 Tues-Friday.

No comments: