Birthdays are occasions to declare that people are stories rather than symptoms; and sharing love is the abiding theme of our stories. In the sharing of love, our stories intersect with God’s Story.
Thank you, Linda, for your remarkable story of love! Being part of that story is the greatest joy of my life.
as Linda moves deeper into her dementia
I write this in the predawn hours sitting beside Linda’s bed as she drifts further into the darkness of dementia. Personal grief hovers like a foreboding storm cloud.
The news is dominated by a dysfunctional government caught in the tug of war over a border wall. Political instability is spawning authoritarianism here and around the world and tribalism is shattering the common good.
Reports of a plummeting stock market compounds uncertainty and anxiety. Will there be enough in pensions and savings to meet the escalating costs of basic needs?
Accounts of more violence in our local community have become part of the daily news, and this morning is no exception.
While I read these news reports and ponder present and impending loss, Christmas carols play in the background: “Silent Night,” “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” “O Little Town of Bethlehem,” “What Child Is This,” “Away in a Manger.”
The dissonance is palpable! All is not calm and bright! Peace and goodwill seem an idle dream.
The surrounding darkness, widespread discord, and lurking danger seem to render images of a babe lying peacefully in a manger and a heavenly choir harmoniously singing to lowly shepherds a fanciful escape from the real world.
But, no! The Christmas story as told in the Gospels IS THE REAL WORLD! The infinite and eternal God enters the finite and temporal. The Word has become flesh and dwelt among us.
In the midst of political oppression and economic injustice of the Roman despots Herod and Quirinius, a baby is born to a peasant teenager.
Made homeless by governmental decree, Mary gives birth in a stable in the dark of the night in the remote village of Bethlehem.
Fleeing brutality and violence, the vulnerable family migrate to Egypt as an insecure emperor cruelly slaughters innocent children. The wailing of grieving mothers pierces the silent night.
Grief, poverty, homelessness, migration, violence, dysfunctional governments, power hungry politicians! We know these realities all too well!
Christmas, however, speaks of another reality which beckons us toward a new world where
Here is the Good News of Christmas: God’s reality wins! “The light shines in the darkness and the darkness cannot overcome it!” That’s the gospel truth!
The retirement community in which we live had its annual Advent/Christmas Dinner Friday. Below is the Invocation/Blessing which I offered.
Generous and loving God, we gather amid the beauty, safety, and abundance of our Dayspring community to celebrate your coming into a world amid darkness, poverty, violence, and oppression.
It happened shortly after a visit last week from Karen, the hospice chaplain and friend who visits Linda regularly. We sat in the sunroom and listened to Linda as she mumbled incoherently but keeping time with the music playing in the background.
As she always does, Karen ended her visit with a short prayer, calling Linda by name and asking Jesus to continue to be with her.
Shortly thereafter we returned Linda to her bed for her evening meal. As the caregiver, Arlene, slowly and gently placed the pureed food in Linda’s mouth, Linda slowly and clearly spoke these surprising words, “Have. . . Communion. . . today.”
Arlene called to me to come from the kitchen where I was preparing Linda a dish of her favorite dessert, ice cream. She told me what Linda had just said. I asked if she wanted to have Communion. But, by this time, her thinking had moved on and her speech returned to scrambled words.
I ran to get grape juice and wafer which I keep on hand. By the time I returned, Linda was sound asleep.
Early the following morning before the caregiver arrived, I gave Linda her morning medication. She seemed especially alert, looking intently at me as I smiled and said, “I love you!”
I asked, “Linda, would you like Communion?” No visible response, only calm silence. I retrieved the chalice with grape juice and wafers.
Standing beside her bed, I sang “Jesus Loves Me” and “Amazing Grace.” Then I recited Psalm 23 and parts of Romans 8. She remained in uncharacteristic silence, even reverence. I prayed the Words of Institution from memory.
“We are remembering Jesus. He loves us and is with us now,” I said as I dipped the wafer in the cup and placed it on her tongue.
A slight smile and a glimmer of peace appeared on her face. “Thank you, Jesus, for loving us and being with us,” I prayed as I peered through my tear-stained eyes. She quickly drifted into a serene sleep.
It was a holy, transcendent moment of keep connection with God, one another, and “the great cloud of witnesses.”
The experience confirms the mystery of the Sacrament as well as the puzzle of the human mind. I don’t know for sure what triggered Linda’s comment, “have Communion today,” but I suspect it was Karen’s presence and prayer.
I really don’t know if she understood any of my words as I recited Scripture and sang familiar hymns. I can’t comprehend what was happening in her world as I placed on her tongue the signs of Jesus’ self-emptying love.
This I do know: There was more going on than can be intellectually understood by either Linda or me.
Furthermore, the most important ministry is PRESENCE! The chaplain’s attentive presence likely kindled an embedded memory and a connection that cannot be broken by brain disease!
Shifting Margins 