Great Aunt Francis died today. She went in her sleep due to complications caused by kidney failure. I don't share that to garner the gratuitous I'm sorry or condolences. I hardly knew Francis. I married into an extensive family and still after 7 years have not met everyone. I share it because Aunt Francis taught me a lesson about clergy support of the dying and grieving.
As a student pastor, I know that I have been called by God, sent by the Holston conference, equipped and gifted. What I am not however, is experienced and trained, especially in the area of life transition (what we used to call death). How does one approach the person who knows they have a matter of days or even hours. How do I function with one who I barely know and need to know intimately in a few short minutes.
We spent several minutes just breaking the ice before the issue of her "bad news" came up. I asked her how she felt about dying. She said she was at peace and ready to meet her long lost daughter who died at 10 years of age. Then the question of relationship was in my court.
"Do you know that God has been at work in your life"? I asked. "Yes" and she related some life experiences which have caused her some pain. "Have you talked to God about these things"? "Did you ask God to forgive you"? "Oh yes" brought great relief to me. She had packed her spiritual bags for the last stage of the journey.
The rest was prayer and assurance. "Yes God has forgiven you. Jesus died for you. You know that, don't you"? She asked me to pray over a prayer cloth.
At first I was very uncomfortable with the idea. It seems so superstitious and pagan… although $20 can get you one from a televangelist.
I told her we would pray… first for her. For her comfort and strength. For the doctors and nurses. For family on both sides of the veil and for God to watch over her as she prepares for the final moments. Then I did pray for her prayer cloth. It went something like this…
"Loving God. We turn to you for your grace which was poured out on all of humanity through Jesus. We ask that You bless this token of grace. May it serve as a symbol that You are with us. When pain and worry comes, may we when we see it or touch it, remember that You are just as close as this piece of cloth. May we remember You are with us. AMEN.
That was the last time I saw Francis alive. Yet I don't worry because this woman taught me… assured me… and showed me that in the face of physical death of our bodies, we are indeed recipients of God's abundant grace and that death had indeed lost its sting. I hope that the simple pice of wool did bring her some relief from the suffering and that when she looked at it... when she touched it.. that she did remember our prayer that God is as close and real as anything we can see or feel. I rejoice that I had had the priviledge of serving both God and Francis in this time.
);
//-->
At first I was very uncomfortable with the idea. It seems so superstitious and pagan… although $20 can get you one from a televangelist.
I told her we would pray… first for her. For her comfort and strength. For the doctors and nurses. For family on both sides of the veil and for God to watch over her as she prepares for the final moments. Then I did pray for her prayer cloth. It went something like this…
"Loving God. We turn to you for your grace which was poured out on all of humanity through Jesus. We ask that You bless this token of grace. May it serve as a symbol that You are with us. When pain and worry comes, may we when we see it or touch it, remember that You are just as close as this piece of cloth. May we remember You are with us. AMEN.
That was the last time I saw Francis alive. Yet I don't worry because this woman taught me… assured me… and showed me that in the face of physical death of our bodies, we are indeed recipients of God's abundant grace and that death had indeed lost its sting. I hope that the simple pice of wool did bring her some relief from the suffering and that when she looked at it... when she touched it.. that she did remember our prayer that God is as close and real as anything we can see or feel. I rejoice that I had had the priviledge of serving both God and Francis in this time.
