A Wedding, The Table, and Wounds

I love the United Methodist wedding service. Probably my favorite part is the Dismissal with Blessing, where I say: “Bear witness to the love of God in this world, so that those to whom love is a stranger will find in you generous friends.” It takes a marriage beyond a twosome to include the world. Another part I like is the Blessing of the Marriage. It encompasses all of their lives. Two portions of it are: “Bless them in their work and in their companionship; in their sleeping and in their waking; in their joys and in their sorrows; in their lives and in their deaths. Finally, by your grace, bring them and all of us to that table where your saints feast for ever in your heavenly home.”

This past Saturday I was the celebrant for a beautifully simple wedding ceremony for two non-members. For them, their primary goal in the wedding was the beginning of a marriage, a life-long partnership. I had enjoyed working with them in the process. When I came to the above portions of the Blessing, I suddenly had to work hard to keep my voice under control. This was the first wedding I have done since Jeff died.  In many ways, I have made peace with this fact, but to come face-to-face with awareness of it in new situations is still hard.

Actually the hardest part of those words for me this time was not the finality of death, but the image of the table. I know that table is for all those who come home to live with God, but in Jeff’s conversion he began to have a very different view. He worried that I would not be there because I would not convert with him. I pray for healing of the wounds this caused between us. And right now, I hold to the affirmation, “In life, in death, in life beyond death, God is with us. We are not alone.”

Revelation 21:3-4

I heard a loud voice from the throne say, “Look! God’s dwelling is here with humankind. He will dwell with them, and they will be his peoples. God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more. There will be no mourning, crying, or pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” [CEB]

The Shuttle

I missed it! Working at my computer in the office with my back to the window, I didn’t even think to look outside to see the shuttle on its last flight. Suddenly FaceBook was alive with photos taken by friends. I enjoyed seeing it from their perspectives—flying past the dome of the U.S. Capital, flying past the home of a friend in Fredericksburg, from the Iwo Jima Memorial, from Centreville UMC, and so many more.

I remember the first landing of the shuttle. It was on April 14, 1981. I was at a Winchester District clergy meeting. The TV was turned on so that we could watch this historic event. I was just as thrilled as I was in 1962 watching the first orbit of the earth by John Glenn. I mourned with the rest of our nation in 1986 when Challenger exploded on takeoff, and then again in 2003 as Columbia disintegrated over Texas.

Even though I missed seeing the shuttle’s last flight, my imagination is still captured. It’s a reminder to me that the universe is much larger than just the little piece of it I see each day. The views of the earth from space show the beauty of this part of God’s creation. The images from the Hubble telescope expand my horizons. The view of time seen in a composite view from the WMAP leaves me in awe at the wonder of all that God has set in motion, and all I can do is offer my praise.

Psalm 8:3-4

When I look up at your skies,

at what your fingers made—

the moon and the stars

that you set firmly in place—

what are human beings

that you think about them;

what are human beings

that you pay attention to them? [CEB]

When Joy Feels Far Away

There are times in life when joy feels good and bouncy, when all seems right with the world, and everything just purrs along. Then there are times when things don’t just purr along, and things seem off at least a notch or two. When the time is purring, praise songs come so naturally. It’s easy to given thanks. It’s not so easy at other times.

We’ve just celebrated the Resurrection in a really glorious way together. And deep in my spirit the joy resounds, but at times it’s hard to know it nearer the surface. Today, I was suddenly caught by memory and felt very raw. At moments like that, I don’t feel joyful. What I can give thanks for in moments like this is that the joy of Resurrection is real and doesn’t depend on how I feel at any particular moment.

In the midst of it all, I heard from two friends connecting out of the blue from other times and places in my life. It’s important to remember that I am not alone in this journey. Friends and companions along the way help remind me of that. In some way, they are the voice of Jesus calling my name.

John 20:16, 18

Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni!”… Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord.”

Endings and beginnings

Endings and beginnings, all in there together. “In our end is our beginning, in our time, infinity,…in our death, a resurrection,…unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.”^*

That Thursday, the disciples sat with Jesus around the table, having their feet washed, hearing his strange words with the bread and the cup, but still not realizing that an ending was very near. When it came, most of them weren’t there because in fear they had run away. Afterwards, they sat in the room together in sorrow and fear, not realizing that a beginning was taking place.

Fear is what often keeps us from fully experiencing the holiness of our endings and our beginnings. My brother-in-law Alan, in facing his time with open eyes and heart, is a witness to trusting in the One who is our home now and beyond now.

During these three holiest of days, our endings and our beginnings are so close together. Somehow, may we go beyond the fear of the ending and step forward in trust that the beginning is with the One who loves us beyond all measure.

^*Hymn of Promise, by Natalie Sleeth, 1986.