ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

    We’ve had enough already, deaths in the family, in our parish family; too many at least as far as I’m concerned. A former colleague of mine, whom I succeeded as Rector following his long-term pastorate, got up in the pulpit one Sunday as he neared retirement and began by saying, “I’m tired burying my friends!” I know what he meant. We all know what he meant. We, too, are tired burying our friends. Enough is enough!

    Death comes to us all, sooner or later and almost never when we expect it. And even when we are somewhat prepared for it, it still comes as a shock. And when one death seems to follow after another, the shock only intensifies. When we are still trying to deal with one death, it is almost impossible to death with a second or third. But we have no choice. We are not the master of our own ship and certainly not that of another’s.

    Yes, we know death is not the end but only the beginning of something new and better. That is what allows us to cope with the death of a spouse, a child, a friend, a loved one. We cope. We don’t like it, but we cope. We have no choice. What helps us through our shock and what enables us to cope with life without the one who has died is our faith. Our faith sees us through.

    More importantly, however – and this is not to deny the importance of faith, for without faith we are surely dead men and dead women walking – what sees us through is one another, our community of faith, our family and friends. Without them the shock would take so much longer to wear off and the coping would be almost impossible. In death as in life it is the community of faith that sees us through.

    We are blessed, you and I, because we have such a community. My heart is always saddened by those who lose a loved one and then are left alone with no one to talk them through their shock and help them cope with their life without. For that is what we need in order to begin to move on after a death. We need someone, many someones, to talk with us and to tell old stories together; to remember what was and think of what might be; to laugh and to cry; to help us move on.

    We can assert that we’ve had our share of deaths; but who is to say what our share really is? All we know at the moment is that it seems like we’ve had enough and we will be quite happy if we have no more for a while, thank you. In the meantime we will cope with our losses as we remember their lives and support their families. We will be there for them, as we know they have been and will be there for us.

    Deaths are trying times for communities of faith because they are so paradoxical. We know the ones who have died are now living a better life, the life promised to all of us at birth. And yet we miss them and are not sure about what life will be like without them.

    It is always with mixed emotions that we celebrate the life, death and resurrection to new life of someone who is part of our community of faith. We don’t know whether to laugh or cry or both. It doesn’t matter because we are doing it together. That’s what matters.              WJP