Reflection I: Loss
This weekend we observe Memorial Day. This is a holiday set aside
particularly to commemorate the sacrifice of life in the pursuit of freedom.
We honor those who have served and died so that the rest of us can enjoy
the liberties they have defended. While we certainly do pay tribute
to those who have died defending our freedom, I believe we can also expand
the focus of our remembrances today to include all of our losses.
I invite you to join me in that process.
One common way of marking the passing of loved ones is to have a memorial service, which often helps to begin a healthy process of grieving. In my preparation for ministry, when I learned how to do memorial services, one way I learned to think about them was as a three-act play. The first act consists of recognizing and acknowledging the loss suffered. The second act involves remembering and celebrating the life of the deceased. And finally, in the third act, we reflect on where we go from here. How do we come to terms with the fact that life must go on?
I propose that in this Memorial Day service, we follow a similar structure. And so we have segments devoted to loss, remembrance, and going forward. In each, I will offer some of my own reflections, as well as readings from various sources. There will also be opportunities for you to reflect and remember.
Loss. Loss is a universal component of human experience. Every time you open up your heart and allow yourself to love, you are setting yourself up for a loss. Every time you form any kind of attachment, whether to another person, or to an object, or to an ideal, or to a way of life – you are setting yourself up for a loss.
The death of a loved one is only one of many, many forms of loss.
I want us to acknowledge this morning all of the kinds of loss that we
have experienced, and are now experiencing.
When those we know and love move away, even
if we maintain contact, that is a loss. When the love of a spouse
or partner dies or diminishes, leading to separation or divorce, that is
a loss. When children grow up and venture out on their own, that
is a loss. When age asserts itself and erodes some of our physical
capabilities, that is a loss. When economic circumstances result
in the loss of a job or a reduction in income, that is a loss.
I want to call particular attention today to those losses of the past several months associated with the events of last September 11. There were, of course, losses of life, and of homes, and of jobs. Most of us were spared those direct losses. But there were other losses that spared none of us. I think especially of the loss of our sense of safety and security as Americans. No longer is terror and violence limited to faraway parts of the world. In some sense we’ve lost the very world that we thought we lived in. We live now in a more precarious world, and I think it’s important to acknowledge that as a loss.
Sometimes we try to rush through the experience of loss and grief.
After all, it’s painful. But feeling the pain is a necessary part
of the process of healing. We may notice this most clearly when others
try to move us too quickly past the pain, and we may even resent it.
I’d like to share with you a reading by Earl Grollman
called “Unsolicited Advice.”
“Unsolicited Advice” by Earl Grollman
Please join me now in a brief period of quiet, while we reflect on losses we have experienced in this past year, knowing that our pain is shared, even if not completely understood, by those around us.Everyone knows what is best for you.
People offer words of consolation:“I know just how you feel.”
(You want to scream: “No you don’t!
How can you possibly know what
I’m going through?”)“You are doing so well.”
(“Do you know how I feel when you leave?”)“Your loved one lived to a ripe old age.”
(“At any age death is a robber.”)“Others have lived though it.”
(“I’m not concerned about others. At this
moment I’m concerned about myself.”)“It’s God’s will.”
(“Then this vindictive and vengeful God
must be my enemy.”)Your heart is breaking – and they offer you clichés.
You see, they are frightened, too.
They feel threatened and ill at ease.
But they are sharing as best they can.
Accept their companionship, but you need not take their advice.
You may simply say, “Thank you for coming.”
And then do what is best for you.And that may mean moving through the pain, rather than around it.
Reflection II: Remembrance
We Remember Them
Roland B. Gittelsohn
(adapted)
In the rising of the
sun and in its going down, we remember them.
In the blowing of
the wind and in the chill of winter, we remember them.
In the opening of
buds and in the rebirth of spring, we remember them.
In the blueness of
the sky and in the warmth of summer, we remember them.
In the rustling of
leaves and in the beauty of autumn, we remember them.
In the beginning of
the year and when it ends, we remember them.
When we are weary
and in need of strength, we remember them.
When we are lost and
sick at heart, we remember them.
When we have joys
we yearn to share, we remember them.
So long as we live,
they too shall live, for they are now a part of us,
As we remember them.
One of the most important parts of a memorial service, and of the process of grieving the loss of a loved one, is remembering and celebrating their life. It is through our recognizing how they touched us and influenced us that they live on. For they live on primarily through those of us whose lives were intertwined with theirs.
Live One Day at a Time
Earl Grollman
Memories – tender,
loving, bittersweet.
They can never be
taken from you.
Nothing can detract
from the joy
And the beauty you
and your loved one shared.
Your love for the person
and his or her love for you cannot be altered
By time or circumstance.
The memories are yours
to keep.
Yesterday has ended,
though you store it
In the treasurehouse
of the past.
Reflection III: Going Forward
It is a Miracle
Edward Searl
It is a miracle.
Nothing less than
a miracle:
That flowers bloom
every spring;
That living thing
begets living thing;
That we human beings
emerge
Again and again
From ignorance to
knowledge,
From hopelessness
to meaning,
From sadness to joy.
It is a miracle,
Nothing less than
a miracle.
And what is it that makes that miracle possible? What is it that
allows us to go on despite the pain and suffering our losses bring?
It is hope. Hope based on our experience that “this too shall pass”.
Hope based on our awareness of the love that surrounds us. Hope based
on the faith that we hold deep in our hearts. In the words of Robert
Terry Weston [A Cup of Strength]:
Let none fear: for greater than sorrow is love, which endures through pain and conquers even grief. Love binds all hearts in bonds of fellowship and courage. They who love unselfishly face even the depths with courage, for their strength is the strength of many and their courage rests upon the love of friends.
I said earlier
that by opening our hearts in love, we set ourselves up for loss.
But there is another truth as well. When we do experience loss, opening
our hearts yet again can help us bear the pain. We are not alone.
We are in this together. And as George Odell
writes, we need one another.
We Need One Another
George E. Odell
We need one another
when we mourn and would be comforted.
We need one another
when we are in trouble and afraid.
We need one another
when we are in despair, in temptation, and need to be recalled to our best
selves again.
We need one another
when we would accomplish some great purpose, and cannot do it alone.
We need one another
in the hour of success, when we look for someone to share our triumphs.
We need one another
in the hour of defeat, when with encouragement we might endure, and stand
again.
We need one another
when we come to die, and would have gentle hands prepare us for the journey.
All our lives we are
in need, and others are in need of us.
Finally, I would like to close these reflections with the words of Wendell Berry:
The Larger Circle
Wendell Berry
We clasp the hands
of those that go before us,
And the hands of those
who come after us.
We enter the little
circle of each other’s arms
And the larger circle
of lovers, whose hands are joined in a dance,
And the larger circle
of all creatures,
Passing in and out
of life, who move also in a dance,
To a music so subtle
and vast that no ear hears it
Except in fragments.