Another book I’ve sometimes thought of writing might be called, “Things They Never Taught Me in Seminary.” Granted, there probably aren’t a lot of people who would pick up a book with a title like that. That’s OK. I think I’d write it chiefly to me. If it meant something to somebody else, well, that would be OK too, but mostly, I think, I’d write it as a way of coming to grips with things I didn’t foresee, didn’t expect, and which have therefore been…challenging… to find my way through.
Case in point: Nobody ever told me I’d be burying the very same people I’d grown to love. I know that one seems self evident, and that a wiser person probably would’ve seen it coming. But I didn’t. And so the same people that year in and year out I’ve “done life” with, so that we grew ever closer to the point we really did come to be like family, are many of the same people I will come to bury. That’s the sort of thing one in my profession might do well to be prepared for.
I remember walking with a chaplain at Arlington Cemetery one day as we were proceeding to a graveside for a burial. He told me that most chaplains could only serve at Arlington so long, because then the aggregate weight of all the funerals they were doing, and all the sadness they were seeing, just grew too great and began to color how they viewed the rest of life too. That made a lot of sense to me.
I’ve been a priest 21 years. I started off in Florida, where sometimes we did 3 funerals in a day. That was rare, of course, but the point is I figure I’ve done hundreds of funerals at this point. And yes, there is an aggregate weight to them that is harder to bear than I in my youth and idealistic enthusiasm would have thought. Or maybe it’s just me. How do you know?
Yes, Christians believe that funerals are meant to be a joyful celebration of life and an occasion to renew our trust in the goodness and mercy of God (even when we can’t quite figure out how to see it, as will be the case in the burial of an infant I’ll be doing this week). But we are also… realistic?...in touch?... enough to know that there is also great sorrow in missing those we love, and that is as it should be. As we say in our prayers, even Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus his friend.
May I also briefly add that I don’t write this to cause anyone alarm or to give them reason to worry or be anxious about me? From the start I’ve used this blog as a tool to process and reflect upon some of the more public aspects of my life (the private stuff I save for my journal, and the really private stuff entrusted to me doesn’t get written or shared in any fashion at all), and that’s all I’ve meant to do here. I’m doing fine.
Finally, though I’ve clearly gone on long enough (too long, probably) I think what I want to write about next is a good death (you will have to decide for yourself if there is such a good thing, but I do believe there is), and then conclude with a post on what little I know of finding our way through those that…aren’t.
*from “No Country for Old Men”
Thank-you for this post and ALL of your posts most recently. As a humble human in the deep throws of grief{due to two loved ones recently passing over into Heaven}, I have received comfort from your words. Great men of "the cloth" weep too. I don't understand "why" God takes loved-ones in-the-middle of a beautiful verbal sentence. Within my grief, I have heard my loved-ones speak to me, a gift from God and I am comforted, somewhat. Sometimes I question my sanity, as I walk closer and deeper into my walk with the Lord. There is so much I have to learn. I so hope you continue posting your thoughts regarding death and your perspective on it. Easter was different this year for me... I suddenly got the message: Jesus really did die on that cross, so we CAN have everlasting life. Love never dies.
Posted by: Sallie | March 26, 2008 at 08:32 AM
"And when she buries a man, that action concerns me: all mankind is of one author and is one volume; when one man dies, one chapter is not torn out of the book, but translated into a better language; and every chapter must be so translated. God employs several translators; some pieces are translated by age, some by sickness, some by war, some by justice; but God's hand is in every translation, and his hand shall bind up all our scattered leaves again for that library where every book shall lie open to one another." John Donne
Posted by: jan | March 26, 2008 at 07:43 PM