Rarely, if ever, are any of us
healed in isolation. Healing is an
act of communion.
Rev. Katie’s Animas View
When my father’s wife Susanne died at age 72, not long after my dad had passed, her two brothers organized the service. She was ethnically Jewish and they prepared a funeral that honored the traditional practices and rituals of Judaism.
Susanne had chosen not to have any kind of memorial for my dad, and my sister and I honored that choice, but it felt hard. So I was glad to be present at Susanne’s service. I needed the rituals that came with listening to the tributes, scooping dirt on her coffin, and returning back to my dad and his wife’s house to sit an abbreviated form of Shiva. At their home, in the presence of their things and filled with people who had loved them, there was healing.
Healing is an odd thing. You sometimes don’t notice it’s occurred until you stop to reflect. And it doesn’t look or feel like it did before. It’s usually got some kind of a scar on it, a reminder that you’ve been through something important. And even getting to that scar can feel somewhat frustrating, like wishing it wasn’t there, preferring it to look smooth and perfect.
Sometimes, I’ve seen people sitting in the back of the sanctuary, dabbing at tears, part of that act of communion, the softening of the scars that is healing. Sometimes, I see it with two people walking, heads a little lowered, and other times, it occurs in shared ritual. I can contemplate it alone, but it takes the power of community to happen.
Are you ready to join a small group for intimacy and ultimacy? Get information about UUFD Covenant Groups here.
On this Sunday before Memorial Day, we’ll consider what it is to practice unity amid diversity. At 11am, the Board will convene the UUFD Annual Meeting. Join both gatherings this Sunday at 10am. Logon here.
Always in the Love,