Skip to main content

Tragedy and Truth

Today, I saw the worst thing that I ever hope to see.

A tiny coffin with a three-month old little boy inside. 

I heard the grieving of a mother who barely lived a trimester with her son outside her womb. 

I touched a smooth, cold, small forehead and marked it with the cross of Christ. 

I tasted the mucus that came with the tears I tried not to shed as I prayed and preached. 

I felt a sharp, damp breeze as I walked behind the casket- carried by the mother of the baby, his grandfather, grandmother, and great-grandfather. 


I offered no words of welcome in introducing myself. A funeral for a three-month old is not a celebration of life. It is a cacophony in the attempt of death to win a battle in a war it already lost. 

Child, family, friends, all gathered were all unknown to me, but not to God. 

I lit a baptismal candle and said, with a steady voice, "Baptism is never about us or what we do. It is about, all about, God's grace and love. In life, T--- was baptized by kisses and in death, he has been baptized by tears. From the beginning, though, and through forever, he has been cradled in God's hands." 

I need this to be true. 

I believe it is true. 

Believing doesn't always answer need. Need does not always create belief. 


I've heard cynics all my life who discuss religion as a panacea to help people who are afraid of death.  
The hope of reunion with one whose life was far too short is not a denial of death. The trust in resurrection today didn't mean not acknowledging the real horribleness of what was real and tangible in a small, white box in that room. 

Speaking for God today, being the representative for faith, daring to step forward for the church of Christ and by his authority, wasn't about false comfort, but about underscoring the reality that God's love is greater. 

Greater than the forces that oppose it. Greater than the brokenness of the world. Greater than whatever tragedies converge that result in the death of a life only just begun. 


In the light of a sputtering, melting baptismal candle, there is no such thing as false comfort. Such a thing is quickly exposed for what it is. It cannot stand the heat of such painful tempering.

"Baptism is never about us or what we do. It is about, all about, God's grace and love. In life, T--- was baptized by kisses and in death, he has been baptized by tears. From the beginning, though, and through forever, he has been cradled in God's hands." 

God is Love. Only Love. 


Labels:

Comments

Anonymous said…
Love you. Grateful you were able to be with them, standing witness to hope in the midst of such a horrible loss.
July 18, 2015 at 8:37 AM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Religious Holidays in Anchorage

You may have read in the Anchorage Daily News about a new policy regarding certain religious holidays and the scheduling of school activities. If not, a link to the article is here . The new rules do not mean that school will be out on these new holiday inclusions, but that the Anchorage School District will avoid scheduling activities, like sporting events, on these days. The new list includes Passover, Rosh Hashanah , Yom Kippur , Eid al - Fitr and Eid al - Adha . They are added to a list which includes New Year's, Orthodox Christmas and Easter, Good Friday, Easter, Thanksgiving Day and Christmas. The new holidays may be unfamiliar to some: Passover is a Jewish celebration, in the springtime, that commemorates the events in Egypt that led up to the Exodus. The name of the holiday comes specifically from the fact that the angel of death "passed over" the houses of the Israelites during the plague which killed the eldest sons of the Egyptians. Passover is a holiday
Post a Comment
Read more

Latibule

I like words and I recently discovered Save the Words , a website which allows you to adopt words that have faded from the English lexicon and are endanger of being dropped from the Oxford English Dictionary. When you adopt a word, you agree to use it in conversation and writing in an attempt to re-introduce said word back into regular usage. It is exactly as geeky as it sounds. And I love it. A latibule is a hiding place. Use it in a sentence, please. After my son goes to bed, I pull out the good chocolate from my latibule and have a "mommy moment". The perfect latibule was just behind the northwest corner of the barn, where one had a clear view during "Kick the Can". She tucked the movie stub into an old chocolate box, her latibule for sentimental souvenirs. I like the sound of latibule, though I think I would spend more time defining it and defending myself than actually using it. Come to think of it, I'm not really sure how often I use the
2 comments
Read more

When the Body of Christ is Fat

Bitmoji Julia enjoys tea Within a very short amount of time, two people whom I love were called "fat ass". One of these slurs occurred in the church building and the other occurred in the same building and within the context of worship. Both incidents were the result of a person with already impaired judgment lashing out at the person who was in front of them, perceiving them to be unhelpful or denying aid or service. Regardless of the "why", the reality is that the name was uncalled for, hurtful, and aimed to be a deep cut. The reality is that a person who is under the influence of legal or illegal substances and often displays impaired judgment can still tell that body shaming- comments about shape, appearance, or size- is a way to lash out at someone who is frustrating you. That means those words and that way of using them are deeply rooted in our culture. An additional truth is that when we, as a congregation, attempted to console and listen to those who h
6 comments
Read more