Thursday January 31, a call came in from a parishioner.
“I’m sitting here with some lovely new friends, and unfortunately there has been a tragic death in their family. A man, only 48 years old, passed away a few days ago and his family is here to make the final arrangements. They could really use some pastoral support, and they may need a place to have the funeral. Oh, and they have just arrived from England. Can you help?”
I took a few seconds to fully comprehend this complex situation, and even less time to realize my response.
“Of course, I’d love to help.”
I met the family that Thursday, only a little more than a week ago, and they were “shattered,” the word used by the mother of the man who had passed on. They had to arrange an emergency passport for one of the kids by driving all over England, just after hearing the horrific news that their uncle/brother/son had passed away suddenly in the States. Then, the red-eye flight. Then, arriving at his empty apartment to begin settling his affairs. Exhaustion and sorrow were both deeply present.
Thank God for the good neighbors, who met this family, and eventually connected to us at Christ Church Episcopal, only a mile down the road. Thank you Jesus, for the network of souls and relationships that was strong enough to join this poor, suffering family, and the local priest. A priest in the Anglican (English) tradition, nonetheless.
From there, the miracles of healing began to shine through the darkness. We talked and cried. I met the beautiful middle-school-aged children, a niece, a nephew and a son. They identified songs and readings for a funeral service. We met with the funeral home.
Then Tuesday February 5th, the day of the funeral arrived. The hearse arrived in our parking lot, and soon after, the family. Then guests, a few CCE lay ministers, and refreshments. The casket was covered by a white funeral pall, symbolizing the thin layer of holiness that separates the earthly world from the divine.
The service began, and after the readings from holy scripture, several friends stood to speak. They spoke with both joy and deep pain about the goodness of their friend. I looked around our worship space with new eyes, at several dozens of people who I had never met, who came seeking God in this time of great loss. Our sanctuary was bright and unseasonably warm, which perfectly and poignantly matched the spirit of resurrection that filled the room.
So, thank you, Christ Church, for opening your doors to a neighbor in great need. Our beautiful campus hosted a congregation that had been cut by the deepest sorrows imaginable. We were able to respond with open doors, open arms, and the message of hope in the resurrection power of Jesus Christ. With immense joy, I was able to speak one of the most beautiful lines of prayer in our Book of Common Prayer: “All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!” The flowers from the service were given to us by the family as a token of their gratefulness, and will remain in the milling area this weekend.
Thank you for making all of this possible, Christ Church Episcopal. Our worship space was indeed a sanctuary, and the house of God.
In the spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ,
Rev. Darren Steadman
P.S. For further reading, I recommend BCP p.507, which is a note about our Burial rite. Just before I escorted the family from the parlor into the sanctuary to begin the service, I read to them this note which begins with “The liturgy for the dead is an Easter liturgy. It finds all meaning in the resurrection …”
“I’m sitting here with some lovely new friends, and unfortunately there has been a tragic death in their family. A man, only 48 years old, passed away a few days ago and his family is here to make the final arrangements. They could really use some pastoral support, and they may need a place to have the funeral. Oh, and they have just arrived from England. Can you help?”
I took a few seconds to fully comprehend this complex situation, and even less time to realize my response.
“Of course, I’d love to help.”
I met the family that Thursday, only a little more than a week ago, and they were “shattered,” the word used by the mother of the man who had passed on. They had to arrange an emergency passport for one of the kids by driving all over England, just after hearing the horrific news that their uncle/brother/son had passed away suddenly in the States. Then, the red-eye flight. Then, arriving at his empty apartment to begin settling his affairs. Exhaustion and sorrow were both deeply present.
Thank God for the good neighbors, who met this family, and eventually connected to us at Christ Church Episcopal, only a mile down the road. Thank you Jesus, for the network of souls and relationships that was strong enough to join this poor, suffering family, and the local priest. A priest in the Anglican (English) tradition, nonetheless.
From there, the miracles of healing began to shine through the darkness. We talked and cried. I met the beautiful middle-school-aged children, a niece, a nephew and a son. They identified songs and readings for a funeral service. We met with the funeral home.
Then Tuesday February 5th, the day of the funeral arrived. The hearse arrived in our parking lot, and soon after, the family. Then guests, a few CCE lay ministers, and refreshments. The casket was covered by a white funeral pall, symbolizing the thin layer of holiness that separates the earthly world from the divine.
The service began, and after the readings from holy scripture, several friends stood to speak. They spoke with both joy and deep pain about the goodness of their friend. I looked around our worship space with new eyes, at several dozens of people who I had never met, who came seeking God in this time of great loss. Our sanctuary was bright and unseasonably warm, which perfectly and poignantly matched the spirit of resurrection that filled the room.
So, thank you, Christ Church, for opening your doors to a neighbor in great need. Our beautiful campus hosted a congregation that had been cut by the deepest sorrows imaginable. We were able to respond with open doors, open arms, and the message of hope in the resurrection power of Jesus Christ. With immense joy, I was able to speak one of the most beautiful lines of prayer in our Book of Common Prayer: “All of us go down to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!” The flowers from the service were given to us by the family as a token of their gratefulness, and will remain in the milling area this weekend.
Thank you for making all of this possible, Christ Church Episcopal. Our worship space was indeed a sanctuary, and the house of God.
In the spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ,
Rev. Darren Steadman
P.S. For further reading, I recommend BCP p.507, which is a note about our Burial rite. Just before I escorted the family from the parlor into the sanctuary to begin the service, I read to them this note which begins with “The liturgy for the dead is an Easter liturgy. It finds all meaning in the resurrection …”
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