Today’s Word from Pastor Jim…
She emerged from the darkness of the womb on the third day of August. It was a Sunday. The people of Trinity gathered to share the journey of life, to sing hymns of praise, and to offer their prayers. Near the end of the service a parade began to materialize. There would be no marching band or floats, no flag bearers, no one throwing out candy. It was a parade of common folk, God’s people: the young and old, babies carried by parents, the elderly with canes or walkers, some lost in life, some lost in dementia, most worried about tomorrow. The bread and wine did little to subdue their appetite, but words of grace were spoken, and they found the courage to face another day.
Little Molly arrived just after midnight, squinted her eyes, gasped for oxygen, let out a borning cry, got cleaned up and nestled into her mother’s breast. That touch assured her that she was not alone in this foreign land.
After the second service there was a graveside gathering at the columbarium for an old man that I had the pleasure of knowing for the better part of 40 years. Later that afternoon on the mainland I officiated at a Celebration of Life for the son of one of our members.
In a hospital in Federal Way two big brothers arrived to see their newborn sister. Sleep, cry, poop, eat, repeat; sleep, cry, poop, eat repeat; Molly was settling into her new routine. This simple rhythm of survival will last for some time and undoubtedly it will be revisited 90 years from now. The sun waned low in the evening sky marking the end of another day.
Hospital and Hospice. I am struck by the similarities between the beginning of life and the end of life—THE Alpha and Omega moments of a human life. In the birthing room there are tense moments and intense pain, the duration of difficult labor is impossible to predict, life and death are in the balance and finally a baby emerges and is embraced in a circle of love—there are tears of joy, tears of relief, shear exhaustion and exhilaration. To behold those tiny hands and feet is to behold a miracle—this is the touch of God—every baby is a miracle–there can be no mistaking it.
In the hospice room a tired family circles the bed, there are tense moments and intense pain—the duration of this difficult labor is impossible to predict, this death scene could come to a swift conclusion OR it could continue for days, even weeks. Life and death are in the balance. Finally when the labor is over, the weak and weary loved one leaves this world and is reborn to eternal life.
For those who are left behind there are tears of grief, and tears of relief, exhaustion sets in, interrupted occasionally by a burst of adrenalin. Reality is stark and undeniable. To behold the lifeless clay of our loved one is to behold a mystery beyond our understanding. How could they be with us one moment and gone the next? Clearly this body no longer holds them. It is a mystery, no one really understands it. In a moment, they are set free from time, from pain, and from a world they loved. Like a mist they disappear. On the other side of this womb called earth, a welcoming party awaits and there is rejoicing in heaven.
I am stuck by the symmetry of God’s created order. I am stuck by the similarities of our alpha and omega moments on earth. In those first weeks and in our last hours we are totally dependent. Little Molly must rely on others to change her diapers, so too for the dying. Little Molly relies on others for nourishment, so too for the dying. In the beginning and in the end, there is little control; control is hard to come by. In our alpha and omega, in our beginning and in our end, we are totally dependent on those around us. In the years between 2 and 90 we live with the illusion of independence and the illusion of control. But even in those years, control was nothing but an illusion.
The truth is: We are vulnerable on every front. A fleck of plaque can cause a stroke, a bite of meat can take our life, a spot of cancer and our plans are turned upside down. A financial crisis might adversely affect our future—the betrayal of our beloved can leave us broken, cars cross the center line, accidents happen. Control is an illusion.
Given this reality, how will we live?
One beggar, telling another beggar where to find bread, I am your,
Pastor Jim
Pastor Jim
rvlindus@whidbey.com
