Death interrupts us.
This is what death does. Unafraid to break into our lives, it comes, not when we expect it; it comes when it is ready. And that time may or may not be when we are ready. And yet.
Death is a holy interruption.
It is holy because it changes our lives and it calls us into community.
Death invites us to change our plans. We live in a culture that does not require us to bury our loved ones right away. Nor do we hold vigil over a body for three days. We are largely removed from the intimacies of death. And yet. Death still calls to us to pause. To slow down. To shift our days. There is something good and holy in this. It may be in anticipation of a friend or a family member dying that we travel to see them once more. It may be in the middle of the night, when we get a phone call from the hospital, plans for sleep are set aside, and we go. It may be a time created to come together, the day after, when people are still reeling. A time to be together as community. To tell stories. To remember. To calm the buzzing of our bodies and reconnect with reality, the ground, ourselves, and one another.
Death calls us into community. The call to community is two-fold. It is in our impulse to come together. We are not meant to journey through this life alone, and death calls us back toward one another. We have a need to share our memories, to tell our story of loss and of love. To ask questions. To simply be together, letting our silence speak. All the ways we are present to and for one another in the wake of the loss of a dear one.
Our call into community is through the context death provides. The context is this: We are all going to die. None of us is getting out of here alive. The wider context of our mortality gives perspective on the things that trouble us. I know for myself, when I hear of the death of someone I know, things I was so concerned about a minute before, suddenly did not hold so much weight. I realize they were not so important as I was feeling them to be. And I am reminded what is important: To love. To show compassion. To honor what is true. To forgive. To be fully engaged in this adventure called life.
In the days and weeks and months ahead, may we allow our lives to be disrupted, our plans to be changed. May we respond to the call to be present with and for one another. May we remember the most important things and let those be our priorities.
Rachael