Hospice 2011       A Community Memorial Service

 

          In Jerusalem, it is just a short walk from the site of the old temple to some ancient pools that date back to the 1^st century, uncovered by British archeologist in the 1890’s. 

                It is thought to be the site of a story told in the 5^th chapter of the Gospel of John: ”Now in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate there is a pool, called in Hebrew Beth-zatha, which has five porticoes. In these lay many invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed. One man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years.  When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be made well?” The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up; and while I am making my way, someone else steps down ahead of me.”

                             There was a legend that from time to time, an angel stirred the water…

         Isn’t that a curious question,

                to ask someone who has been lying ill, beside what he thought to be a healing pool for 38 years?     

        That was a very long time to be waiting for a miraculous cure …  in fact, it almost seems a cruel question,  to ask a man in that situation, “Do you want to be made well?”

         In the original Greek, the word translated, “made well”,                           refers to more than good health,

                        lack of disease, or how the body is functioning.      

 The word is more comprehensive. 

        It refers to body, mind and spirit – overall wellness and wholeness      including a particular sense of one’s relationships and connections to family and friends as a supportive and caring community. 

         The ancients understood that being well is far more than just the medical science of our bodies.  – our whole being and relationships…

     e.g. In Hebrew, there is a  word “nephesh” à

        used to describe our human spirit or soul,

          the essence of human life that transcends the mere physical. 

                        “nephesh”,  is that which makes us,  us –   everything about us including our emotions and inward-self,

    and includes even the relationships that connect and support us

        as part of a caring community…  … it’s what makes us human.

         When Jesus asks, “Do you want to be made well?”, he’s also asking about the man’s nephesh,             “how is it with you, what do you really want, and what are your wishes?” 

                 Those are Hospice sort of questions    … our mission in fact… the stuff that Hospice does best - with our focus not so much on dying, as it is on living life fully and well,  intentionally.

         The man answers Jesus, “I have no one to put me in the pool.” 

         He has been abandoned by family and friends. 

                He feels lonely, hopeless and isolated from others. 

     Without a compassionate community to support him, he has been left alone to suffer on his own, for 38 years… and that’s a very long time to be stuck, and to live without hope.  

                It is in  desperation, that the man answers, “I have no one to help me and I can’t do anything about it.”

         A few years ago a member of my congregation was dying soon and moved into La Posada.      We talked.  Though successful in many ways, he had lived a destructive life and many of his relationships were in shambles. 

                His adult daughter, angry and long-estranged,

                    hadn’t spoken to him since his divorce,

                        apparently a particularly horrible & vicious one. 

        She blamed him for her mother’s suicide,  and for decades had hated him bitterly and swore never to speak to him.  

                I asked her to come see him anyway, and she said that she hoped he died a most painful and agonizing death, alone. 

         Finally, with some reluctance she agreed to visit him before he died, and the temperature dropped at least 20 degrees when she stepped into his room.

         When I returned, that icy-cold room

                had become a place of hope and healing warmth. 

            He was sitting up in a chair and she was on his lap. 

                Both were crying and laughing, and for the first time in decades – perhaps a lifetime,   that frightened and wounded little girl  had found healing and comfort sitting on her daddy’s lap. 

         Their relationship, though terribly broken and severed had been made whole…  and the sweet scent of restoration  and caring compassion filled that room when I got there. 

                Together, they had found hope in reconciliation,

                                    and restoring their relationship

                                        had healed and made them well.    

        And when he died a few days later,

            it was the right time,   - his nephesh healed, all was well. 

           We read in Ecclesiastes, For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up what is planted; a time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. 

         The writer is reminding us that our time, our lives and all that they contain are a precious gift from the Holy One –

                - and there is a time, an appropriate time for all things… to live – to die, to laugh – to weep,        and the Lord’s time is not necessarily the same as ours. 

        But this time is our time to remember the deaths of our loved ones, and to celebrate the gift of life. 

                 It is a time to be grateful for the lives of those who have touched and enriched our lives in so many ways,

        and I suspect,

                they are pleased that you care enough to be here tonight. 

        Yet I doubt

                that they would want us to be forever sad or distressed,    and that they might also say,

                how much they appreciated life lived among you,

                        their dear family and good friends. 

        The focus is not on death,     but on life well-lived   

                and supported by a compassionate

                        and caring community of family and friends.