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The Blesseds
A sermon preached by the Reverend Dr. Stephanie J. Nagley at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Bethesda , Maryland – May 29, 2005
My great aunt Ida lived a good and long life. Toward the end she enjoyed a reality a little different than most of the people around her. But she was happy. Often she would say the funniest things and in those moments we knew that she was perhaps more ‘with it’ than the rest of us who claimed to be.
One Memorial Day weekend she made a visit to the local cemetery. There were flowers on every grave and flags firmly placed in the ground next to headstones. Aunt Ida looked around and proclaimed, “My, the cemetery is alive with people today”.
A profound truth. The cemetery was alive as cemeteries can be when we make our pilgrimage to those we’ve loved and lost and hope that we may see again.
We remember this weekend those people who graced our lives, who made us laugh and cry. We remember those who lived ordinary lives and those who dared the extraordinary. We remember most especially the brave men and women who gave their lives in service of this country. We choose, this weekend, to remember.
Jesus told us to make sure the homes we call our souls are built on a solid foundation. We know he wasn’t talking about a 401K or real property. He was talking how we live from our hearts. How we love and live within ourselves and with one another.
And we know, in our heart of hearts, that all we may accumulate in terms of material goods will matter not at the end. There are no U-Hauls in heaven, or wherever it is that our bones and flesh find themselves at the end of this earthly pilgrimage.
This weekend is important for us because somehow in the remembering of those who have gone before and in the reality of death we learn to be more alive. Somehow in facing, even while flinching, the reality of our mortality we are able to reorient ourselves to what it means to live a good life and soul-filled life. Somehow we get reacquainted with that true and sure foundation of what really matters.
Remembering those who have died isn’t just done on Memorial Day weekend. We remember the dead each Sunday in our prayers. We remember them in our eucharist. We remember them frequently and that should be a clue that this remembering we do is essential to those of us who still remain upright.
The cemetery is alive this weekend because we remember. And when we remember it means that all those souls have become part of our souls. As long as we give our attention to those we have lost they are never entirely lost.
Truth to tell, since we don’t really know what happens after death, our best response to each day that we are given the gift of breath is to know that no matter what happens, no matter what difficulties or sorrows confront us, any day above ground is a good day. Every day we are given is the only day we have and so our challenge is to make the best of it, to live and laugh and love full out for tomorrow is never guaranteed.
And with that reality then it seems to me we can dare to do anything good and true. With that it seems to me that we can have great courage in the meeting of our days. That life is good and each day is a gift seems the best foundation for moving forward with our hearts tuned to the song of God, the song of loving one another, of loving our enemies, of praying for the emergence of the best in each of us.
Dying and death teach us how to live. Remembering those who had the courage to live and to die gives us a blueprint for our time here on earth.
When I was at St. James by-the-sea in La Jolla, California I had the blessing of sitting with a group called “the blesseds”. These were people who knew their days were numbered. Each person had been diagnosed with cancer and the prognosis for each was poor.
My friend Blayney started this group. Well, more accurately, he started the group at the insistence of a man who came to him with AIDS. The time was the early ‘80's when AIDS was a recently recognized illness and the treatments were not as good as they are now. AIDS then was a sure and quick death sentence.
Douglas, the man who came to see Blayney, was 41 years old and a forensic pathologist for San Diego County. He knew a lot about the dead and he looked on his own dying with fascination.
One day in the Blessed Group, Douglas told the others that he had started practicing dying.
“How the hell do you practice dying?” asked one of the group.
Douglas said he was doing something he learned in yoga. He was surrendering his body inch by inch with each breath beginning with the souls of his feet. So far he told them he had gotten to his knees. I can tell, it’s going to be ecstasy when I get to the top of my head and let it all go with one final breath.
The day came when Douglas couldn’t make it to the Blessed Group, so the Blessed Group went to him.
There he was in his silk pajamas on his silk sheets, painfully thin, with his two dogs on either side. He was very weak but asked for a promise. He asked that when his heart stopped would they please treat him as if he was still with them. He said they could cry or feel freaked out but that he wanted them to help him leave this life and this body.
His friends promised they would do their best.
A few days later Sam, Douglas’ partner, called to say the end was near. Douglas said that he was hearing voices of people he was pretty sure were dead. That veil between this reality and next was thinner for Douglas than the rest of us.
The Blessed Group visited Douglas and while they were at his bedside Douglas died.
My friend Blayney made the sign of the cross on his forehead as Muffin the dog whimpered. And then Blayney said, “Douglas, you’ve been our guide, our teacher, and now we commend you to God with thanks to you for showing us the way. If we can trust God with our life as much as you have trusted God with your dying we will be blessed. Blessed are you.” [1]
The cemetery is alive this weekend with those who have in some way shown us how to live. Blessed are they who have died. Blessed are we who are given this day to live. May we stand on that one foundation of life, simple and true. May we trust God as much with our living as we do with our dying. Blessed are we who live on the sure foundation that we are alive and life is good.
[1] Blayney Colmore, In the Zone.
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