I was reminded of my calling to ministry this week. The husband of one of my parishioners died this past week and my attention was drawn to helping her family come to terms with such a great loss. Most of my days were filled with how I might be of service to the extended members of the body of Christ. In the middle of the chaos of death, I found that there is a sense of peace that passes all that I could ever hope to understand.
There is an acute awareness of life. I refer to family that comes together and shrouds one another in tears and in love. While many of the members of this group were very different than each other, there was one underlying sentiment to which all seemed to agree. The patriarch of the family will be greatly missed. And the age old question of “What does life look like without him?” became the focal point of the week.
I was very appreciative for the church family which rallied around to deliver food to nourish both the body and the spirit. There is a strong statement about our community of faith as we hold each other up and face the ultimate situations which bring us to our knees. We do these things together.
I am grateful for my church which allows me to be a part of the holiest of moments in life. This is one of the many reasons I am compelled to be a pastor. It is to testify to the awareness that God is present in life and in death. In our context we believe that there is hope in a life after death.
I share spaces with people which are sacred. This is my calling. This is my honor and joy.