We all have a story to tell

The final part of my bereavement training last week has left me with lots to think about. At the moment, the thought going round my head is that we do all have a story to tell. Our course leader encouraged us to engage bereaved people in their story, including the deceased person for whom they are grieving.

However, I think it goes wider than that. We are all in need to share our story, to see how our story fits in with those around us. The web of attachments each of us has is far reaching, and there will be points where they interlink. Church should be a place where stories are told and heard. It is surely as we tell our story, and listen to the stories of others, that meaning is given to our lives, and to the lives of those around us.

After all, those of us who are followers of Jesus are people of The Story. The story of God coming to earth to live among his creation. The story that continues through today and on into the future. It is as we gather and here the story of God, that we find our place in it, and our story, and God's story, merge together.

Bereavement

Yesterday I started a three day course on bereavement. It is going to cover many different angles that I may need to consider as a potential presbyter of the church. Here are some of the things that came out of the first day:

• Confronting my own death. We did an exercise imagining we were dead and watching what was going on. The interesting point was that I reacted far more when it came to my family finding out, rather than the part where I actually died. This was a really useful experience as it made me realise that I needed to plan more for if I died. It may be a bit morbid but it could be useful to my family to have planned some kind of funeral service. Do they know if I would prefer to be buried or cremated? Do they know if I would prefer a funeral service or a thanksgiving service? Do I know?
• We also considered the attachments that we build up. Some initially are for survival, but others are purely for affectionate reasons. The web of attachments is quite vast. This means that when someone does die, the loss is felt by many and in different ways depending on the attachment.
• It is important if someone knows they will die within a certain time span, for them to talk with family and friends. So all can be prepared. Talk about death - it is a natural and inevitable part of life. Encourage children to talk about death, maybe even attend the funeral, make it a positive experience - a chance to acknowledge loss and say goodbye.
• While it may be preferable to hold thanksgiving services and think only of the positive side of things, it is also important to acknowledge that people are mourning. Feeling grief isn't a weakness, it is a natural reaction, and we should be encouraging people to journey through it, not just skip over it because it is painful.
• What a minister says at funeral needs to speak to the immediate family, and to the other mourners. The family need comfort, permission to grieve. For them it is not a time for theology. However, the others present at the funeral may need some theology. So a funeral service needs to contain both. There does then need to be follow up where possible, because the time for theology will come.
• What we tell children about death is really important. We may want to make it sound better (e.g. Daddy has become a star) but often this just confuses them

Not bad for the first day! Although it often is heavy going, it is also really important stuff. Hopefully more to reflect on today.

Another hymn - this time from Hymns and Psalms

Here is another hymn that I have come across recently. It has been one used as a bit of a running joke at college, but as we decided to sing it this evening during community worship, I actually read the words - and they are very inspiring. It's just a shame that it hasn't been included in Singing the Faith.

Through the night of doubt and sorrow,

Onward goes the pilgrim band,

Singing songs of expectation,

Marching to the promised land.

One the object of our journey,

One the faith which never tires,

One the earnest looking forward,

One the hope our God inspires;

One the strain that lips of thousands

Lift as from the heart of one;

One the conflict, one the peril,

One the march in God begun;

One the light of God's own presence,

O'er his ransomed people shed,

Chasing far the gloom and terror,

Brightening all the path we tread;

One the gladness of rejoicing

On the far eternal shore,

Where the one almighty Father

Reigns in love for evermore.

Soon shall come the great awakening,

Soon the rending of the tomb;

Then the scattering of all shadows,

And the end of toil and gloom.

Bernhardt Severin Ingemann (1789-1862)

A hymn from Singing the Faith

I'm preaching on Sunday and the church have asked me to use Singing the Faith for the hymns. Added to that the circuit have asked all preachers this week to preach on vocations. While choosing hymns I came across this one. Although we are not going to sing it, I am considering using it as a reflection after the sermon. It certainly gives a challenge.

Would I have answered when you called,

'Come follow, follow me'?

Would I at once have left behind

both work and family?

Or would the old, familiar round

have held me by its claim

and kept the spark within my heart

from bursting into flame?

Would I have followed where you led

through ancient Galilee,

on roads unknown, by ways untried,

beyond security?

Or would I soon have hurried back

where home and comfort drew,

where truth you taught would not disturb

the ordered world I knew?

Would I have matched my step with yours

when crowds cried, 'Crucify!',

when on a rocky hill I saw a cross

against the sky?

Or would I too have slipped away

and left you there alone,

a dying king with crown of thorns

upon a terrible throne?

O Christ, I cannot search my heart

through all its tangled ways,

nor can I with a certain mind

my steadfastness appraise.

I only pray that when you call,

'Come follow, follow me!',

you'll give me strength beyond my own

to follow faithfully.

Herman G. Steumpfle, Jr (1923-2007) © 1997