DANCING Wednesday, January 29, 2014 Dancing with death is now my ministry. Dancing around it. Watching closely as others cut in for their turn on the dance floor. Standing with those watching their loved dance or who know that their turn will come with the next tune from the band. I dance with death a lot. I’ve learned some important things about the dance. One of them is that there is no greater honor than being asked to stand close while others dance. Nothing has emotionally overwhelmed me more in the last eight months since I started as a Hospice Chaplain than how humbled I feel to hold hands with people I’ve never met until the moment they are releasing their loved one to God. I’ve learned some “do’s and don’ts” along the way about the death dance. These rules are not absolute because they are mine alone and I’m not God so I don’t get to make the rules. They are just some things I’ve learned and want to pass along. Don’t ever tell someone that the one they just lost is in a better place. Maybe they are. That’s not the point. The point is, as Fred Craddock once said in his grief, they aren’t here. In some ways, to suggest that the deceased is in a better place minimizes their absence here. Though death may have brought comfort to unending suffering, reminding others that their loved one is not here anymore is not comforting. Don’t ever tell someone that God must have needed another angel so that’s why he took the loved one away. We don’t know that. My guess is that God has all the angels God needs or God knows where the angel factory is. It’s a dangerous thing to speak absolutes for God when what we know of Eternal God could fit on the head of pin. Don’t ever apologize, ever, for your tears. When something breaks our hearts, it’s OK to let the fountains flow full force. Weeping is not a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of our humanity. When Jesus found out that Lazarus had died, the first thing he did was weep. People often point that John 11:35 is the shortest verse in the Bible. I prefer to think of it as the verse that tells us more about God in two words than whole chapters and books in other places. God, in Christ, wept. God comes to kneel with us in our crying because God knows what it feels like to hurt that much when someone you love just died. Don’t ever say, “All things happen for a reason.” Too often, that platitude assigns to God responsibility for diseases and crimes and evil that are not God’s fault. They are a sign of our broken nature. God does what God does and, most often, we don’t know why things, good or bad, happen. They just happen and faith is what we are asked to bring to bear in the mystery of it all. Do be present, not verbal, in the presence of grief. The more you say too soon the more likely what you say will either be forgotten or inappropriate. Just be there. There is nothing quite as powerful as the ministry of presence. Be present, not too long and not gone too soon, either. Just be there. You’ll know when it’s time to leave. Do pray when you promise to pray. Your words to God don’t matter as much as the fact of them. I pray that the grieving will be filled with a sense of God’s presence and the peace that presence always brings with it. There is no more powerful prayer than the prayer offered when death has staked its claim. I’ve seen all but miraculous transformations in people’s faces when our prayers reminded us that we were speaking to the One to whom death itself will someday answer. Do anything you can to lessen the load of practical, daily chores when people are grieving. Mow the lawn. Wash the dishes. Vacuum the carpet. Feed the dog. Don’t obsess over it or get showy about it. Just get it done. In times of grief, a few ounces of daily chores can feel like a ton. It doesn’t take much to leverage a little compassion into the power to move mountains. Do learn the power of silence. When it’s all said and done, those who grieve won’t remember what you said as much as they’ll just remember that you were there. After I nearly died in 2007, I kept asking Nancy over and over who showed up. I didn’t ask her what they said. Just knowing they showed up for me and for Nancy strengthens my heart and my faith in the goodness of most people. Do remember that we are encouraged in God’s word to grieve yet not as those who live without hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Grief is the gift of God, the soul work that must be done so that our hearts can heal. We’ll all dance with death some day. It’s nice to know a few of the steps before the music begins.
Posted on: Wed, 29 Jan 2014 11:33:32 +0000
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