Another Coda

Just to add a coda that really is musical.  Some time ago I mentioned that owing  to a stroke affecting my left hand I gave away my electric piano and stool to my neighbour. Please don't get the impression that my left hand was ever as efficient and accurate as my right hand. I began playing when I was nine, passing various grades and (in those simpler days) I found no greater pleasure than saving up my pocket money to add another music album to my collection. Before long I was being used at church and parties. Into my first room (on the second floor) as a student at Jesus College I lugged, with hefty friends, an out-of-tune piano. Painting it orange made a statement (!) and led to great music-making fun.  But lately my uncooperative hand brought my melody-making attempts to an end. 

However, all the music sheets that were packed into the music stool, plus heavier volumes of Beethoven sonatas and Bach preludes, still confronted me in the corner of my shed/study/studio. In a large carrier bag they lay stranded uselessly. I wondered how I could part with all of this stuff to a good home. One of the homes our church house groups meets in has a piano in the lounge with evidence of skilful use as music scores lie above an open keyboard.  When the musician came to our house last week I ambushed her with my stranded bag. I assured her there was no pressure for her to take any of it but she seemed genuinely delighted (I hope I didn't misread her) to forage through my sheet music, albums and volumes. And take it all home!  This is really a good ending. 

Good endings are so important. I look back on my piano playing days with happiness because they really did bring fulfilment. Sharing a gift is a privilege.  Now my electric piano and even my music store have gone to good homes I can rub my hands together with satisfaction at the good ending.  That's a splendid coda.

Coda

My brother's funeral was worthy and well attended with a colourful eulogy from his son that brought out so many positive aspects of Steve's life and ministry. We could all say that we celebrated his life.

One thing struck me in particular.  The first reading was Luke 23:32-34;39-43. I had never heard these verses at a funeral service, have you? 

Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with Jesus to be executed. When they came to the place called the Skull, there they crucified him along with the criminals - one on his right, the other on his left. Jesus said, 'Father, forgive them for they do not know what they are doing.' And they divided up his clothes by casting lots.  One of the criminals who hung there hurled indults at him: 'Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!' But the other criminal rebuked him, 'Don't you fear God,' since you are under the same sentence' |We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But his man has done nothing wrong.' Then he said, 'Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom.'  Jesus answered him, 'I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise.'

The vicar spoke powerfully about these verses, emphasizing how at this very last moment in the criminal's life there was such faith in Jesus that he could throw himself in mercy asking for Jesus' forgiveness and help. This simple act of trusting received the promise of living eternally with Jesus.  When you meet the real Jesus, for real, recognizing there is no one like him, no matter our circumstances, ask him for help and he responds with promises as big as this one - 'You will be with me in paradise.' 

I asked Brenda, his widow, about this choice. 'Oh,' she replied,' that's actually my favourite Bible passage. I just love the way that Jesus deals with this man, and can deal with us. I wanted it for Steve's service.' I hope I wasn't the only person who heard it and went in imagination to the cross, and heard the words for Steve too.  

Out-of-the-box thinking

Steve's funeral is tomorrow and as I have been giving thanks for him I remember his penchant for reading unusually solid books that pushed the envelope.  And I think he inherited this ability from my father. This came to mind in my devotional reading last night. In a section  'A time to Die' there was a prayer written by Teilhard de Chardin, a controversial French Jesuit priest who combined science, philosophy and theology in provocative ways.  One of his famous quotes runs: We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.  As you might guess my father engaged with his writing and I remember as a teenager hearing him speak of a disastrous ministers' meeting when he tried to introduce some of de Chardin's ideas to the group. I don't think it did his reputation any good (not that he would have been bothered).  Anyway, the quote I read last night:

Now that I have found the joy of utilizing all forms of growth to make you, or let you, O God, grow in me, grant that I may willingly consent to this last phase of communion in the course of which I shall possess you by diminishing in you.....

When the signs of age begin to mark my body (and still more when they touch my mind); when the ill that is to diminish me or carry me off strikes from without or is born within me; when the painful moment comes in which I suddenly awaken to the fact that I am ill or growing old; and above all at that last moment when I feel I am losing hold of myself and am absolutely passive within the hands of the great unknown forces that have formed me; in all those dark moments, O God, grant that I may understand that it is you who are painfully parting the fibres of my being in order to penetrate to the very marrow of my substance and bear me away within yourself.

The more the future opens before me like some dizzy abyss or dark tunnel, the more confident I may be - if I venture forwards on the strength of your word - of losing myself and surrendering myself in you, of being assimilated by your body, Jesus. Teach me to treat my death as an act of communion. 

Not a superficial prayer.  I think my father and brother would have appreciated it!