Friends,
It has probably been at least
a year since I have written here. I know
because recently it was the one-year anniversary of Senator John McCain’s
funeral and Aretha Franklin’s funeral.
At the time of the funerals (the general time, not specifically when the
funerals were happening) my daughter and I were spending time at the family
storage unit that is about 20 minutes away from the community in which we
live.
I was going to write some
things that came to me while we went through some family things and I had written
a list, and guess what? Somehow the list
got lost and I never did get around to writing.
I am going to recall some of
that and segue into why I decided to post on blog today, which is somewhat
thematically the same if not a different content.
I retired from the
Presbyterian Church (USA) on August 31, 2018, it has been just a year. It was a poignant time for the United States,
and it was a time of reflection for me. Unlike
a private company that gives material gifts to people when they retire, the
church does not give things like a gold watch.
I don’t know if that is the go-to gift anymore, but that is what as I grew
up seemed to be the marker for that major event in someone’s life.
My daughter and I were going
through family belongings including many pictures of deceased family
members. She and I, and my son are pretty much the
family that we have left. Joyfully she
is married and I have a granddaughter, so the next generation of the family has
arrived. I do have living cousins and am
grateful for their presence in my life and for the gift of technology that
enables us to stay in touch.
Frankly it was hard to see
pictures of so many that have gone before us.
I was certainly glad to have my daughter’s company during that
time. It was intensified as our country
focused on the preparations for and the funerals themselves of two beloved
people who were and will continue to be so important in the culture and history
of the United States.
I also reflected on how
different those two funerals were! One
the funeral of a Statesman. The other
the funeral of an iconic singer who not only touched our hearts by her music
but also led a colorful and inspiring life.
A picture of her casket that I saw showed high heeled shoes that had
been placed above the top. John McCain’s
funeral was much more dignified and special in its own way. Don’t think I am insulting Aretha by saying
that JM’s funeral was more dignified.
The two people and the two funerals were just significantly different
and that is how the United States is! We
are diverse and colorful and somber and ceremonial.
So all of these ribbons were
floating around in my heart and head and life at the time of my retirement last
August. The joy of knowing that I had
served well and loved my work in China and Africa tempered the feeling that
something significant in my life was ending.
When I left South Sudan, the circumstances were such that neither I nor
the Nile Theological College where I served nor World Mission in the
Presbyterian Church (USA) knew that I would not be returning to my post. There was no going away lunch at a South
Sudanese restaurant by the Nile River as had happened for other colleagues, so there
was no real sense of closure. I couldn’t
give hugs and in-person good-byes. I
lost a precious opportunity to let the community that I participated in know
how much they meant to me, in the flesh.
I am retired. I see the pictures of those in the family who
have gone ahead of myself and my children and now my granddaughter. There is such an awareness of life ending and
new people coming in and both the continuity and also the endings. And at the same time all of this is going on
in my heart and my head there are two important national figures who have died
and the country is in mourning and their endings are being celebrated and the
closure is on the television set for all to see.
I remember a commentator at
the JM funeral saying, so many of know that when we die this is not the kind of
funeral that we are going to have.
Yes. My belief, as a retired
Presbyterian pastor, is that God gives each of gifts and mission. Some are well known on the public and perhaps
even world stage, and others are well known and loved by a small band of people
known as their community. Sometimes it
can lead to a person feeling somewhat insignificant. That is not the truth and yet a person can be
forgiven for feeling such.
So now today the 2020
Democratic Presidential Climate Town Hall on CNN is taking place. I am being discerning in who I watch on this
particular stage as I am also doing other things today, dishes, laundry, you
know, the normal stuff of life that one does when one does not have household
help. (Which I did have when I lived
overseas.)
I watched John Yang and
Kamala Harris and Amy Klobuchar. I will
turn the TV on again for Elizabeth Warren and some of the others after
her.
I must say that I really like
Amy Klobuchar. She is from the Midwest and
I always think of something that I heard in seminary as many of us were
preparing to discern calls in specific churches by God and the larger
church. There is always such a mix of
people who are geographically limited and people who know that they will have
to relocate in order to answer a call.
In the mix of all of this I
distinctly remember someone telling a group of us that women in ministry in the
Midwest would not be impossible. “Men
and women are used to working in the fields together.” Amy is down to earth. She feels to me connected to the pulse of the
place where food grows, the earth that we walk on, the earth that Jesus walked
on. She has very practical solutions for
things and I like that.
As she talked I realized that
there is going to come a point where I will no longer be here to see how her,
or someone else’s vision, plays out in the United States and from there, the
globe.
I recently went to a beautiful
and informal memorial service of a woman who had been for years in a church I
attended as I went to college and was called to seminary and then was ordained
and began a call to another church. It
was essentially a picnic with tables and chairs on one of the islands that we
have here in the Pacific Northwest. I
was grateful that another church member had called to ask me if I would like to
go.
I can’t remember exactly when
it was to be honest. What I was so aware
of on the drive were the leaves of the trees.
They were so green and it was a beautiful day. I had a time of being in what is known as a “thin
place”. As a thin place it was one of
those times of experiencing the feeling that comes when there is a perception
that the distance between heaven and earth has shrunk and time and space seem
to be in a different dimension for a period of time.
I kept thinking about generations. I now know people who have great great
grandchildren. Amazing! This will likely happen less and less as
people in the United States seem to be having children later and later in
life. For much of the country the days
of having kids at 19 or 20 and then the next ones doing the same where there really
could be five generations at once, possibly six? Is not probably going to be something that we
see very often. While there is a
continuity of generations the modeling and mentoring and sharing among older
and newer is not going to be as common.
So there was that. There was also a sense, not in a morbid way,
that someday I won’t be here any longer.
The generations will pass on.
Someday my daughter will be a grandma and so on and so forth. I have a place in this continuity, and at the
same time, my place gets vacated at some point and a new person takes that
spot.
I am still fairly young. I have been told that my life expectancy is
for another twenty years. I also am
facing the possibility that I may be facing some health issues and that is a
little bit scary. In awareness of that I
am realizing that for so many years I knew that of course people die, but it
seemed so far away. Now, not so
much. Twenty years can be a long time,
but not so long when you know it is the last twenty years. So I know that the awareness of my mortality
is sharpened now and is a real thing.
I also have realized as I
contemplate these things that I feel for me facing death squarely in the here
and now, whenever that is, would seem to be a little bit easier when one is of
a perhaps more expected age for death.
In other words, at 64 I don’t feel like this would be a natural time to
die. Twenty years later it would be seem
to be more so. Of course, in twenty years
I might not feel like that at all! But
it does have to end sometime.
I certainly know that I am
not ready to leave right now even though, ironically, it is not my choice when God
would choose to call me home, so to speak in Christian parlance.
I wrote in my journal
recently that perhaps when one is closer to death one is more ready for it to
occur. By that I mean, at this moment
(not withstanding what results of medical tests may be in three weeks) my body
is reasonably healthy and my mind is reasonably present. In twenty years perhaps this will not be so
and I will be more ready to let go of this earth and the people I love, in
order to join the generations who have gone before me and have someone else,
another generation, fill that hole, that space, that was once me.
I hope that some of this
makes sense. I also hope that perhaps
someone that is reading it will have been helped by it. For me sometimes it is reading something that
someone else has written that I have been thinking that helps me.
I need to preach again. I need to experience the “kernel” again. Sermons are for me first and then a gift for
others. The kernel is when I am present
with the Spirit in the Scripture and there is a “conversation” occurring and in
that moment I see what the kernel is in the Scripture. What the meaning is. That becomes the repeatable line in the sermon
that people can follow and understand what the Spirit is conveying. The funny thing is that often times people
hear something entirely different from what the preacher says! Because the Spirit uses the words to say to
the person what their own kernel is.
Blessings to you all. Thank-you for allowing my processing and my
journey to be a part of your time and your life.
Debbie