Any one of us might be known as friendly, articulate, possibly athletic or energetic, and probably liberal. But what are we known for? Or we might be known as prickly, clumsy and a tad sluggish. But what are we known for? And please don’t be distracted by thinking it’s narcissistic or self indulgent or crass to be ‘all about you.’ it’s a worthy and important question. And it’s a necessary question. Lacking the question may well translate into lacking focus and commitment. It may well translate into a lack of accountability to the rest of us, should you pass on doing something worth being known for. And it need not be something grand like ending a war, or like Clara Barton, starting the Red Cross. It can be as simple and powerful as sitting and listening to some young people trying their best to make it through high school academics, relationships and family. It can be as simple as being ‘that person, over there, she’s the one that will listen.’ It can be that simple as being the one who helped some folks learn to read and speak English as a second language. Or the one that fought to make life easier for some single parents. Or the one that always stops by the nursing homes and shares fresh flowers. Or the one that means the world to some folks struggling with addiction. Like Joe Coleman, a former member of this congregation who was known as a guy who could talk your ear off, in the nicest way. He would eventually get to stories about the Russian Mob and leave you wondering what was real and what was a great story. He was a such a sweet guy. But as it turns out he was known FOR, helping more than one young person stick with battling alcoholism and stick with AA. It mattered that he was there.
One of the truly sacred things about my vocation is the access I am given into people’s lives when they are nearing death. In that process I come to know that person in manners not possible before. To spend time with a person nearing the last living days is to see a person intimately engaged in reality, what’s important to them and what is not. It’s as real as life gets when there isn’t much of it left.
I had that sacred pleasure with Rheua Stakely who died earlier this summer. Our time together was actually pretty unique. Although I’ve spoken with many people about their memorial services in the months, weeks and days leading up to their deaths, no one has ever insisted on being so involved in the planning. Every detail! Each week we would meet and her focus would be on hymns, music and speakers and mine would be on talking about living and dying. We would move between her agenda and mine, back and forth, back and forth. I would ask her to tell me about her spirit and she would do so, and then follow it with ‘now, about singing spirit of life, I would like it if everyone would hum it a second time!’ And then we would move on to her time in the mountains, which caterer she would secure, the fear of dying,
It was remarkable time that I treasure. About two weeks before she died, I was asking her to tell me about her work with the Speakers Bureau again. She was really something you know. She put together what would later become Speak Out, the group that provides panels of 4 or 6 speakers who themselves are Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual or Transgender. The belief is that through meeting them and hearing their own stories and being able to ask questions, people are changed in their understandings and their phobias. We spoke of that work, we spoke of her relationships, her mountaineering and then we talked about goodbyes. How very difficult it was to say goodbye. And then we spoke about death. At one point I held her hand, looked at her and said, ‘You know, you have saved lives.’ Emotion coursed through her face and body and through tears, she replied in her weakened voice ‘you know, I really think I did. ’ This was one of three times I saw that level of emotion move over and through her whole body, bubbling up from her heart and soul. The second time was when she and I spoke of our goodbyes to each other. The third time I’ll share in a few minutes. So, there she was, barely able to speak. Because of the tears and because everything had become such a great effort. And she managed to repeat’ I really think I did.’ I told her what I tell you today, ‘I have no doubt it’s true.’
Rheua was known ‘as’ energetic, fun, adventurous, outrageous at times, very particular about her food, and many other things. But she will always be known in my heart ‘for’ saving lives.
Just as was the case for Charlie eight years ago, people stood and spoke during Rheau’s service and we learned how she was also known for her enormous impact within the Jewish School community and so much more. The world shifted toward greater equality while Rheua was living. It mattered she was here.
In The Summer Day, Mary Oliver asks the question
Does everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?
It is easy to hear those words and think of life like a desert. Oooooohhhhhhh, what will I do with this special thing? This wild and precious life? It’s tasty, isn’t it? With no disrespect to Mary Oliver, I ask you to consider it as a sacred and powerful gift as well. Wild and precious indeed but also sacred and powerful. And it need not be terribly large and here’s this one other very important thing - not everybody even needs to know. It needn’t be loud.
And so, dear ones, And in this special place of ours, I ask what will you do with this sacred and powerful life. For what will you be known? Will it matter that you were here?
In the intimate space of your immediate family and friends, I know the answer is ‘of course’ but I ask that we look further away in the larger scheme of who we are in this world. In this complicated world, for what will you be known?
Earlier I mentioned three times that our friend Rheua Stakely was overcome with emotion. When we spoke about her saving lives. When we spoke of our goodbyes to one another. And then this third thing. which was all about you. Rheua told me that she had to die this way. She couldn’t have been hit by a car because she needed this experience to learn something important. She had to learn what it was like to have people who didn’t even know her, care. She was stunned and transformed – by you. By and through your care and love. That, that is what you were known for, by Rheua Stakely. And it was no small thing. No small thing indeed ~
No comments:
Post a Comment