Death and a New Meaning for Advent
Yesterday was the third Sunday in Advent, 2005, a day clear and cold in Peachtree City, Georgia. We didn't attend worship services; we were tired, exhausted is a better word. For days we had been seeing to Maryann's needs--huge needs. My sister-in-law was dying from a horrible lung disease. Her lungs were slowly calcifying. There is no know cause for this and no known cure. It is a slow process and requires round-the-clock care in the end stage. We were worn out! Saturday she began to fail rapidly and at 11:30 AM breathed her last. Now the house is quiet--no oxygen machine pumping, no whirr of the morphine mist, no rush of special aid people coming in, no low whispers from the nurse, no low background noise from the television set. Maryann's dog mopes around, restless, looking for her. Today we sorted out a few things and tried to rest for the trip home; it was impossible.
It is close to Christmas and we have done little shopping. There are boxes of ornaments and other season decorations open at home, ready to be emptied. The candles on our Advent wreath were mostly unlit--brand new. The lights on the bushes in front of our house are not on. Parties went on without us; a family gathering at our house was postponed, probably until next year now. In a couple of days we will return home to begin our routine, with one huge exception. There will be no daily telephone conversations with Maryann, no checking to see how she really is, no browsing of airline schedules, no thinking it may be more convenient to drive. We do have one more trip, to Houston, Texas, where Maryann's larger family lives and where she was raised. There will be a memorial at the end of December in a plain but beautiful chapel in a wooded area. By then Advent will be passed and the child will have been born.
Some people dread the holidays; perhaps they have no family, no food, no gifts for children, troubled spirits because they too had relatives die during this time. But they need not fear Advent because its message is precisely about their concerns. Advent is about life, not wrapped gifts; it is about God's sure love even though we be in the midst of problems; its original message was about freeing captives from oppression--and that certainly fits many of us today. Advent anticipates the coming of Christ, and since He has already come, the church now celebrates Advent for its second message: the Messiah will come again, only this time He will establish His eternal kingdom! Advent is the heart of happiness because it reminds us that God has not forgotten us--that God is coming to us--that Emmanuel ("God with us") is here!
For our family, Advent is about life and death and eternal life. We were helpless and could not slow down, much less stop, Maryann's certain death. But, as followers of the Lord of Advent, we have another reason to be cheerful this season: her new relationship with the God in whom she believed and whom she sought for years. When she was barely able to understand what was happening we all gathered around her bed for Holy Communion. When she was no longer able to understand we said prayers for the dying and anointed her with oil. Then we waited as her body struggled with her spirit in the natural process of separation. And when her body died, Ruth and Maryann's daughter-in-law washed her, dressed her in a fresh gown, and combed her hair. Remarkably to me, shortly after death the lines in her face softened, a bit of color came back to her cheeks, and she took on a beauty we had not seen for a long time.
Next Advent we will think of our Lord, string the lights, light the candles, have our family gathering, exchange gifts, and eat something good. We will try to help others have a good Christmas day, a day of remembrance that God did not forget His promise: that Messiah has come to set His people free! And we will think of Maryann, not with tears so much, as with joy in her seeing face to face the God of Light.
Jerry L. Mercer
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