Ordinary Rites
/by Rev. Eric Folkerth
Last Wednesday was a day I felt the full weight of this horrible pandemic. My Mother called to tell me she had her COVID shot. And, like many of you, I posted my joy about that on social media. But in the comments, I was reminded of a dear ministry colleague, whose own Mother had died of COVID just a week earlier.
In the midst of my great personal joy in months, her comment broke my heart into heaving sobs.
“She was so close to getting her shot,” my friend said.
I share this, because I know that these heartbreaking stories of life and death are a part of your journey right now as well. Each week, I’m buoyed by the stories that some of you are getting your COVID shots. This makes me genuinely happy.
But, each week, I hear stories of how you and your family members have either suffered or died from the disease too.
It’s a lot to deal with. It’s hard to know how to properly celebrate our own joys while others are experiencing such sorrow. Such a complicated time in which we live.
The pattern of our weekly “joys and concerns” perhaps gives us a roadmap. One of the benefits to our weekly prayer time in worship is that we are reminded that this complicated slew of “joys” and “sorrows” is the way of all life. When we are experiencing our greatest triumphs, our neighbor might be in a dark valley. And vice versa.
I think the only way through is through…
And so, yes, celebrate the joys…by all means. But also cultivate a sense of true and sober humility and sorrow for the loss around us too. We must hold these things in a challenging tension.
And we must also remember that the best way to overcome any sense of “survivor’s guilt” that we might carry is to live our lives well. For those who do not make it out of this pandemic time, our best honoring of their loss will be to live each day fully.
My friend, songwriter and poet, TR Richie, wrote of this in a poem he calls “Rites.” TR died of cancer some years back, and I think he might have written this one after his diagnosis. It’s a message that fits our time now.
I offer it to you in prayer, as we navigate these complex times.
“Rites”
so it turns out
the simplest things
are the holiest
ask any dying friend
morning coffee
evening walks
laughter
work of the hands
shared meals
every day we engage
in sacrament without
fanfare or ceremony
and in the end it is not
extraordinary achievement
we find ourselves craving
but humble rites
which keep us
close to the ground
close to the moment
close to each other
let us honor the dying
by our earnest and
abiding allegiance
to ordinary grace
— TR Richie
