Where love and sorrow meet

The cultural divide can be met and understood if we allow it

One Sunday as I was doing my usual walk through the A&E department I was stopped by a member of staff who told me a patient had been brought in “suspended” in other words no heart beat. I was told his wife was in the relatives room and she was very distressed and would I mind popping in and seeing if I could do anything.

When I went into the room the woman’s daughter had just arrived. I recognised her as the young woman that worked in the hospital shop. I spent some time with them but it was clear that the patient’s wife was finding my presence upsetting as it just confirmed how sick her husband was. She just kept saying we’ve got to stay positive. I told them to contact me through the staff if they needed anything.

I continued with my usual Sunday visiting and took communion to those patients that wanted it.

Next I wandered into ICU. The patient from A&E was now there and his daughter and wife were in the visitors room. Again I spent some time talking to them. They told me that the patient was a practicing Muslim. They were not and wondered what to do. I said that when I got back to the office I would contact the mosque and leave a message for the Imam.

Before I reached the office I was bleeped by the ward manager who told me that the patient had just died and as he was Muslim they were not sure what to do. I said I’d sort it and not to do anything. I went over to the mosque across the road and managed to get a message to the Imam who came out to me. I explained what had happened and he said he’d come to the hospital. I went back to the ward and explained this then sat with the family. The Imam came and spent a short time chatting to the family, then went and did the death prayers.

The family were obviously distressed. The man was only in his 50’s and had never been sick. His son arrived having got the phone call at work. None of them were Muslim and so were unaware of any rituals and what to do next. I explained some things to them but said that the Imam would come and talk to them as soon as he had finished doing the prayers.

The Imam was someone who had done a placement at the hospital and I had worked with previously. I knew he would explain things to the family well. They were very anxious because they wanted things to be done correctly.

It was a strange situation because the women in the family were used to doing things but the Imam had to speak with the son, who then came in and relayed what had been said to his mum and sister.

I took the daughter and son in to see their dad and say their last farewell. I then walked them to the main entrance and watched as the family walked away. I hoped that they were not going to find the clash of culture too great.

Carrying on from where I left my last blog; after saying goodbye to the muslim mans family I went back up to the unit and heard someone sobbing loudly from a visitor’s bedroom. I asked what that was about but the staff on ICU didn’t know anything and said it must be to do with HDU next door. Of course, being me, I couldn’t ignore it so went and checked with HDU. They told me a patient had just died and said it would be nice if I checked on the family. 

I went out into the corridor and turned the corner. I saw a woman I recognised as a visitor from my regular wanderings through the unit. She saw me and threw her arms around me and started to wail loudly. I had snot and tears running down my neck and people in the visitors room looking very uncomfortable at the commotion but I knew I needed to wait just long enough to be able to get the woman to take my hand and I lead her back into the more private surroundings of bedroom she'd been allocated just on the side of the unit. Her daughters were also there with their partners.

Unlike the other situation I’d dealt with that day, this man had been ill for some time and his death was not unexpected. They were all still extremely shocked that it had finally happened. This man was obviously well loved and even though they were glad he was no longer suffering they couldn’t imagine life without him. I spent a couple of hours with the family until they felt able to go. They asked me to say some prayers before they left, which I did. I emphasised that the thread which separates life and death, still bind us to those we love through the memories of the heart.

I finally left the hospital around 7pm. What a day. I was shattered but felt good about being able to be there for those two families at those points of crisis.

I’ve since seen the daughter of the Muslim man. She told me that the funeral was beautiful and they needn’t have worried so much. She also thanked me for being there when they needed someone.

Sometimes that's all we can do is be there at that point where love and sorrow meet!

The cultural divide can be met and understood if we allow it

One Sunday as I was doing my usual walk through the A&E department I was stopped by a member of staff who told me a patient had been brought in “suspended” in other words no heart beat. I was told his wife was in the relatives room and she was very distressed and would I mind popping in and seeing if I could do anything.

When I went into the room the woman’s daughter had just arrived. I recognised her as the young woman that worked in the hospital shop. I spent some time with them but it was clear that the patient’s wife was finding my presence upsetting as it just confirmed how sick her husband was. She just kept saying we’ve got to stay positive. I told them to contact me through the staff if they needed anything.

I continued with my usual Sunday visiting and took communion to those patients that wanted it.

Next I wandered into ICU. The patient from A&E was now there and his daughter and wife were in the visitors room. Again I spent some time talking to them. They told me that the patient was a practicing Muslim. They were not and wondered what to do. I said that when I got back to the office I would contact the mosque and leave a message for the Imam.

Before I reached the office I was bleeped by the ward manager who told me that the patient had just died and as he was Muslim they were not sure what to do. I said I’d sort it and not to do anything. I went over to the mosque across the road and managed to get a message to the Imam who came out to me. I explained what had happened and he said he’d come to the hospital. I went back to the ward and explained this then sat with the family. The Imam came and spent a short time chatting to the family, then went and did the death prayers.

The family were obviously distressed. The man was only in his 50’s and had never been sick. His son arrived having got the phone call at work. None of them were Muslim and so were unaware of any rituals and what to do next. I explained some things to them but said that the Imam would come and talk to them as soon as he had finished doing the prayers.

The Imam was someone who had done a placement at the hospital and I had worked with previously. I knew he would explain things to the family well. They were very anxious because they wanted things to be done correctly.

It was a strange situation because the women in the family were used to doing things but the Imam had to speak with the son, who then came in and relayed what had been said to his mum and sister.

I took the daughter and son in to see their dad and say their last farewell. I then walked them to the main entrance and watched as the family walked away. I hoped that they were not going to find the clash of culture too great.

A denial too far

The following situations all occurred in my last couple of weeks of working in the Trust. What makes these situations all the more poignant is that they happened over the Christmas period.

A young woman was referred to me from the Macmillan team. She had terminal cancer and was not fully accepting her diagnosis. She had told the palliative care team she was finding it hard to pray which is why they asked me to see her.

When I saw her she looked really frail and it was obvious she wasn’t going to live much longer. She told me that she had run out of words to say to God. I said that was ok, that the bible says that the spirit intercedes for us with sigh’s too deep for words. She seemed to take some comfort from this. I also read her Psalm 139 which says that God knows our words even before we say them. These conversations happened over a few days as it was only possible to have snippets of conversation before she was exhausted.

The one thing she was consistent about was her wish to go home. She was going back to her parents house as she wasn’t fit enough for her own home. One day she told me that she wasn’t going to be able to go back to work. I thought this was a breakthrough and began to open up the conversation about how she would prepare for her death. We seemed to be going in the same direction and then out of the blue she told me she was looking forward to her dad taking her out in the car for drives until she got better.

I knew I couldn’t lead her down a road that she wasn’t willing to travel. I also know that some people die in denial. All I could do was walk with her wherever she took me. I would often take her poems and readings and read them to her. She would always say thank you and appreciated me coming but we never went further than that.

She got home and died two days later.

These situations can lead to the professionals involved feeling dissatisfied. I think we all did a good enough job. It would have been wrong to push her when she wasn’t ready to face her imminent death. I think God would have helped her and did help her through that last process and that is something we can’t know about till our turn comes.

Never Alone

May my words be in the name of the living God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen

Here in the UK there was a lot of fuss recently about baby Prince George’s birth then baptism. He is 3^rd in line to the throne and will maybe be King one day.

I was having a chat to a mate this weekend as she had recently been at an event that the Queen was present at. They were told to curtsey or bow as she went past. Because my friend hadn’t practiced this, she ended up not doing it as the moment went quickly. 

When I had to be in a line to meet the Queen we were told the same thing. Being the Rebel Rev that I am I did nothing because she is just another human being and I have trouble “subjecting” myself to anyone.

Then I get the short straw and have to preach for Christ the King again as Wendy likes to be away at this time of year. How will I bring something new to my thinking about all this when I don’t like all that triumphalist stuff?

Christ the King was an invention of Pope Pius XI who got a bit worried about all the secularism in the 1920’s and wanted to celebrate the reign of Christ. It’s not been around that long then in the churches terms. We have an even more secular society now so maybe the Pope put out the wrong image.

Of course as well as being Christ the King it’s stir up Sunday when you lot that love the kitchen rather than see it as a route to the garden, traditionally would stir up your Christmas puddings.

Well I’m good at stirring but in a different sense so let’s see what I can stir in today’s readings.

Jeremiah gives us this image of God

⁴I will raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them,

and they shall not fear any longer, or be dismayed,

nor shall any be missing, says the LORD.

That’s a very different view and not too Kingly. Then this lovely bit of Colossians:

Brothers and sisters:

¹¹May you be made strong

with all the strength that comes from his glorious power,

and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience,

¹²while joyfully giving thanks to the Father,

who has enabled you to share

in the inheritance of the saints in the light.

¹³He has rescued us from the power of darkness

I did stop before we have talk of the Kingdom in that reading because I want us to hear that we all have a share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. You know I love imagery about light and dark and sometimes we have to get comfortable in being in the gentle light of the moon because we can’t always be in the bright light of the sun but as long as we never let the darkness totally overwhelm us. We can be made strong so that like Janet Morley’s beautiful prayer we can say that in the darkness we were not lost.

Then we have the gospel which gives us the broken Jesus still reaching out from the cross to the thieves around him. I can really identify with this conversation with the one geezer saying to the other “leave him alone. We’ve done wrong, he ain’t” When I was a kid I was always being punished and being the intelligent child I was I decided that if I was going to get into trouble anyway, I might as well do something to deserve it. I think that is fantastic logic for a child. So I used to come in late or whatever bit of defiance I could think of on that day and as I got the wallop I would smile inside because it didn’t hurt as much as getting whacked for doing nothing.

So getting back to our readings we have this situation where Jesus says to the thief “I will see you in paradise soon” I wonder if the other thief had a change of heart seeing this meaningful exchange?

This exchange made me think about this business of who we might meet in heaven. It seems like there will be thieves, and all the other misfits that Jesus hung out with and that made me think that if we don’t like the people on earth we aint gonna like heaven much because the people that give us the ‘ump will be there too.

So we are going to have to do something about this business of loving one another and getting alongside each other here on earth and working on this love stuff. 

Well how does all that link with today’s reading. One of the past Vicars at St Mark’s loved the following hymn and always made us sing it every Easter. It was an awful tune but I think the words are powerful:

Therefore he who shows us God

Helpless hangs upon the tree;

And the nail and crown of thorns

Tell of what God’s love must be.

Here is God: no monarch he,

Throned in easy state to reign;

Here is God, whose arms of love

Aching, spent, the world sustain.   

It’s that last bit that gets me every time

Here is God: no monarch he,

Throned in easy state to reign;

Here is God, whose arms of love

Aching, spent, the world sustain.   

That’s the king I can identify with, the one who was prepared to enter every human struggle and who deeply understands our sufferings and what does he do he stretched out those arms of love. He doesn’t sit austere on a throne and make people tremble before him but lovingly reaches out to us in the darkness and is aching for us to say “here I am” and to reach the rest of the way into those arms.

How many times have you longed to be in some ones arms but kept the stiff upper lip and didn’t let go? I am a professional collector of tears. It is one of my gifts and is a real privilege that people invite me into their fears and anxieties and hurts and shattered dreams. I will open my arms to hug and embrace anyone and I never want that to change.

I’m not always very good at letting my tears flow and I am very fortunate that when I do I can receive a hug and let people come close. In that way my friends are bringing some light in the darkness and some of God’s love to wrap around me. If I can do it as someone who was once a little toughy and a street urchin, then so can you. Please open your hearts, minds and arms to one another. Get to know and love the people around you so that when you get to heaven you can enjoy the company.

I recently did a memorial service at the school. I finished with this song by Lady Antebellum, I will put the words on the screen and I’d like you to just sit and be still and listen and as your thoughts drift remember those aching arms of the king of love outstretched to you and as the song says remember you are never alone.

May the angels protect you
Trouble neglect you
And heaven accept you when it's time to go home
May you always have plenty
Your glass never empty
Know in your belly
You're never alone

May your tears come from laughing
You find friends worth having
With every year passing
They mean more than gold
May you win but stay humble
Smile more than grumble
And know when you stumble
You're never alone

Never alone
Never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart
When you face the unknown
Wherever you fly
This isn't goodbye
My love will follow you stay with you
Baby you're never alone

Well, I have to be honest
As much as I want it
I'm not gonna promise the cold winds won't blow
So when hard times have found you
And your fear surround you
Wrap my love around you
You're never alone

Never alone
Never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart
When you face the unknown
Wherever you fly
This isn't goodbye
My love will follow you stay with you
Baby you're never alone

May the angels protect you
Trouble neglect you
And heaven accept you when it's time to go home
And when hard times have found you
And your fear surround you
Wrap my love around you
You're never alone

Never alone
Never alone
I'll be in every beat of your heart
When you face the unknown
Wherever you fly
This isn't goodbye
My love will follow you stay with you
Baby you're never alone
My love will follow you stay with you
Baby you're never alone