Funerals are strange things. At one level, it feels as if we should gather together and focus only on our devastation at our loss of Jan. It’s a huge loss and to not find a way to express it seems like we are avoiding the pain that Jan’s death brings. Life will indeed go on for us, but it will be different. For some of us it feels like we have been given the short end of the stick and we would rather not think about that. Just sort of swallow hard and find a way to go on.
Yet there is no denial here. We hear it in the lessons, the music, the personal remembrances; all of these are important to hear and embrace. Loss doesn’t go away when we deny it. It simply festers. It is important to feel our loss and it’s not a surprise that when we grieve deeply, its because we have loved deeply.
There is no use in denying our feelings because feelings refuse to be dictated by our desires. We tend to place values on our feelings, as if we can control them. We cannot. If we try to suppress them, grief ambushes us. As I told Rob, grief is like an unwanted house guest. You can make accommodations with it but it won’t go away. For many, grief is a lifetime companion but that doesn’t mean it will consume us. That’s why faith is a significant partner in our loss.
As humans, we are fully aware that life on this side of the grave will one day come to an end for all of us. As Rob talked to me about this, he referred to a poem by Linda Ellis. The poem reminds us that living our life fully is our faithful response to a life that one day will end. The poem begins:
“I read of a man who stood to speak
at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on the tombstone
from the beginning…to the end.
He noted that first came the date of birth
and spoke the following date with tears,
but he said what mattered most of all
was the dash between those years.
Would you be proud of the things they say
about how you spent YOUR dash?”
Jan has completed her dash. She now rests with her family and friends who have gone before. We acknowledge the pain of our loss, celebrate her faith and thank God that our lives intersected with her during her time here. But is that all we have?
Jan was a woman of faith. She knew her gifts and talents were gifts from God. She thrived by sharing her gifts of teaching, singing, theatre, the love of learning, and friendship. Her marriage to Rob was a shining example of the goodness of life. And so we celebrate her life and our good fortune of having known her and being inspired by the way in which she lived her life.
Yet, we are caught up in the dichotomy of celebration and grief. We need to allow ourselves to live into the tension of both.
Many of you knew Jan better than I but I can say with conviction that Jan’s faith strengthened her in a life that wasn’t always easy. Despite challenges she faced, she was able to move through both challenges and triumphs with hope. She didn’t have a blind faith, she was much to thoughtful for that. Her faith was strong and unwavering, yet fully aware that problems don’t go away for those of us who share the same faith. She wasn’t a Pollyana but she was steadfast, even as she breathed her last.
We too must pass through the same door Jan has. But with a faith, steeped deeply in a God who loves us and never abandons us, like Jan we have nothing to fear. Our loss is acute, but our hope is greater. One day, when all that needs to be said is spoken and all of us will gather with Jan and others we love but see no longer, we will see that Death is not proud. Because of her faith, Jan now sees that love and life will have the last word. As John Donne has written:
Death, be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think’st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be,
Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones, and soul’s delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell’st thou then?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.
Even though her body now rests in peace, it is the hope that she knew so well, that still fills her soul and gives us peace that one day, we will be reunited. Rest well dear Jan as we continue our journey. May our dash be as spectacular as yours.