Weekly Message from T. J.

Holding Healing

There are many privileges that come with being a minister. The trust others give you to hold some of their more tender feelings is one. Another is the chance to share on a regular basis your thoughts or interpretation of events, history, and beliefs in a way that might help others. And being allowed into places others cannot go to offer care is an important one, too. I also have a friend who likes to ask me quietly, when I speed up a little to get through a yellow(ish) traffic light… “Minister’s privilege?”

But another among the many privileges a minister has is the chance to be present to celebrate the lives of those whose mortal time has ended. I have led a number of celebrations of life, memorials, and even funeral services in my relatively short time as a minister. And even in this time, I have witnessed a wide spectrum of ways in which families and communities choose to express their underlying feelings and how they hope to care for the wider, impacted community. This might be the greatest privilege from among all of the many privileges ministry bestows upon those who are lucky enough to answer its call.

And so on Saturday, here in our community, we celebrated a life that was truly remarkable. Through stories of humor, self-determination, bravery, kindness, and deep compassion, we were able to learn more about how best to live our own lives by remembering fondly the life of another. And during the celebration I was reminded of one of the things that can really make a celebration of life special. It’s not something they teach you in divinity school or seminary. It’s something you have to learn along the way: nurses are great at celebrating lives.

The person whose life we celebrated worked as a pediatric oncology nurse.  And a number of colleagues from the hospital came to remember this life. If you have never spent time with nurses after their shift out at the bar or at a barbeque or some other social event, you’re sorely missing out. There may not be a group on earth as comfortable with what can go wrong with the body and as joyful about all the ways they work together to heal those things. This combination may be why history looks so well and fondly on those who hold healing in their hands.

And as the nurses held forth with stories that were as bawdy as they were sublime, I looked at our sanctuary, where so many of our own ohana, who may never have touched personally the life we gathered to celebrate, but who love and support the member of our church who grieves this passing, sat in quiet understanding and healing presence for their fellow member. And it was plain to me why history should look so well and fondly on those who hold healing in their hearts. And to bear witness to this generosity of spirit was a blessing for certain, but it was also and honor and a privilege.

And may it ever be so.
Rev. T. J.
minister@unitariansofhi.org