The irony of the day wasn't lost on me. This woman is a faithful woman of God with a sense of humor and a smile that lights up a room--that had been lighting up the room even last week when I spent an hour with her before leaving town. It was Halloween--or All Hallow's Eve--the night before All Saints. I knew she knew and her Lutheran pastor husband knew--I wondered if they had thought about it....
At the agreed on time Chris dropped me off and I met my friend at the door. We went into the room and I sat on the bed next to his wife, next to my friend--my friend who I haven't had enough time getting to know, my friend who in 9 short months I have grown to love deeply. My friend who has taught me more lessons than she knows, who has helped me stay real, has given me love and laughter, has reminded me not to take life too seriously--a lesson she has continued to teach me even as her life winds down. I held her hand. For the next hour her husband and I talked; I couldn't let go of her hand. Some day I may share all that I have learned from these two, but for now I will say they are a living example of a faithful, loving, devoted, funny, sometimes arguing married couple. I wish Chris and I had time with them--to learn from them, to ask them questions, but most importantly to love them and have them love us back.
The time came for me to go, but I didn't want to let go of her hand. I got ready to anoint her and pray and a wave of self doubt washed over me. You know that feeling you sometimes get (or at least I do and hope I'm not alone) when you think, "I'm actually an adult." but you still feel inside like an adolescent or child pretending to be an adult? That's how I felt, and beyond that I felt inadequate and scared. That was the feeling--the who am I? Am I enough? Am I real enough, worthy enough?
I reached into my purse and pulled out my traveling stole, my prayer book and my oil stock. Suddenly I felt surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses. Suddenly I knew I wasn't alone. My traveling stole was given to me by the wife of a priest I never knew but suspect we would have had great theological conversations--and I love and adore his family who have welcomed me, embraced me, and loved me just as I am. As I turned the pages of my prayer book I saw the handwriting of another priest no longer alive but very much alive in my life--a man who walked discernment and ordination with me and again his family is a family I love and who love me back just as fiercely. And then I opened the oil stock given to me by my mother when I was ordained. A gift given by a proud mother who believed and believes in my call--who recognizes my adulthood in my vocation.
In that moment I understood All Saints to my very core. I understood that I was surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, and I rejoiced in their fellowship. (BCP, p.380) It was a great cloud of witnesses both living and dead, but a cloud of witnesses on who I could depend for support and a cloud of witnesses I was being invited to join.
The next day was All Saints, Nov. 1 and I read this from Frederick Buechner, Sacred Journey,
"On All Saints Day, it is not just the saints of the church that we should remember in our prayers, but all the foolish ones and wise one, they shy ones and overbearing ones, the broken ones and whole ones, the despots and tosspots and crackpots of our lives who, one way or another have been our particular fathers and mothers and saints, and whom we loved without knowing we loved them and by whom we were helped to whatever little we may have, or ever hope to have, of some kind of seedy sainthood of our own."
We all have saints in our lives. In the morning when we make eggs in my grandparents iron skillet I remember, when I look at my hand where my great grandmother's wedding ring has sat on my finger for 23 years, I remember, when I fold a baby blanket crotched by Chris's grandmother, I remember, when I read from books recommended to me by a beloved priest friend, I remember. So many times I remember...
I anointed my friend a saint of God and then walked to the door where I hugged her husband, my friend, another saint of God, and I remembered something written in one of those books recommended to me, "For me to be a saint means to be myself." (New Seeds of Contemplation, Thomas Merton; p. 31) And I thought, "Yes there is a great cloud of witnesses who will continue to love and support me, but what I need to be is myself--an ordinary woman, a wife and mother of 4 who is also a priest who wears high heels, is rather loud, and possibly slightly irreverent. I am part of the saints of God."
And each of you in your vocations and lives, you are meant to me one too.
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On Nov 19 I will celebrate the Silver Anniversary of my ordination. A few weeks ago, I celebrated my 60th birthday. I have now outlived both my parents, who passed over 30 years back. So, it has been and continues to be a year of specials I'd never thought I'd be here to see.
But as bad as the quickly pulled together ordination service was in oart because the organist barely deigned to be there, and no one took pictures that weren't ORANGE, it had to have been one of those defining moments where we are surrounded by the cloud of witnesses, for I remember little of the service- with the possible exception of the butchering of "Lift Every Voice..." and "Here I am Lord"- except for the utter silence when 100+ hands all came together to lay hands.
Within two weeks I had crossed the country to serve my first parish. A place this suburban baby boomer never thought I'd be. Hundreds of miles from where I grew up. A true "stranger in a strange land". And with me came those cloud of witnesses. They held me up in the pulpit. They rode with me on visitations. They comforted me evenings when I sat in my office in the parsonage. And they were there as I went to my next church, and my next.
And now,as I reach this milestone, in a ministry of elderly family churches, some of which I helped close, those witnesses, most of whom have joined the saints, are still praying and witnessin and supporting me. And I thank God every day for them as well as for those who have entered the crowd since then, and those who are entering as we speak.
And....God Bless Us....every one....."
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