Who Lights Up Heaven?

              Yesterday, during the opening collect at Mass, lights began to fade in the church.  Before the end of the first reading, the altar was only lit by candlelight.  (This was a power loss scheduled by the power company to replace a pole, so it wasn’t a complete surprise.) The silence seemed more pronounced during mass. The candle light was soft and fluid and the pace more leisurely.  I’m sure it was in my imagination, but it gave a different perspective to praising and worshiping God.

               Coincidentally, or not, a quote from the daily reading from Revelation 21 stood out for me.  It said, “The city has no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God gave it light, and its lamp was the Lamb. The nations shall walk by it light; to it the kings of the earth shall bring its treasurers.  During the day the gates shall not be shut and there will be no night.”   

                   And the reading for this Sunday is also from Revelation and references light in heaven.  Also in Revelation 21:22-23 is says, “I saw no temple in the city for its temple is the Lord God almighty and the Lamb. The city had no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gave it light, and its lamp was the Lamb.”

                   These readings made me think of the 6^th grade religious education class that I substitute taught a few weeks ago.  In an attempt to help them think about heaven as a real place, I asked them to draw a picture of what they think heaven will be like.  The results were interesting.  One drew a hotel, another had a place for fishing, and one girl can’t imagine heaven with Chipotle.  We talked about the idea that there will not be any hate or fear in heaven.  “But what about baseball?” asked one young man.   Will we need to sleep or eat? All of this, we did not know.

                   What I do know, from the two passages in Revelations is that there will not be a sun or moon or a night.  The light will come from the glory of God.  And yet in the church yesterday, it was the lack of artificial light that helped me feel closer to the one who has all the glory!

Wings of Prayers

I’m in one of those cycles – emails this week brought news from two friends who are dealing with seriously ill parents and my prayer group is praying for two very serious ill women. Having buried both of my parents and my father-in-law, I generally put myself on the side of having more, rather than less experience with death.

And I am reminded of the death of my father at 59 years old.  Sunday will be the 28^th anniversary of his death.  When I see commercials for the Masters Golf Tournament, I know the anniversary of his death is near.     

The day before he left us, was the Sunday of the Masters tournament.  All four of his children were home and Jack Nicholas won. Death is such a mystery. I think that my dad was ready to go after spending quality time with each of his adult children and enjoying his favorite sporting event of the year.  He left us early on that Monday morning nearly 28 years ago and I still miss him.

And so what can I do to comfort my friends? Having a seriously ill parent is painful.  The one who taught you to ride a bike has trouble walking.  The one, who always challenged you to always do your best, needs help eating. The eyes that looked at you with pride and sometimes disappointment now are filled with pain.  And you can’t make them better and you don’t want them to go.

I can share with my friends some of my insights to death, having been present as two of my family members left us in the past three years.  I am certain that you don’t die alone - that your spirit is accompanied by spiritual beings on the journey to the next life. If you are ill and your health is failing, I believe that you have some influence over the timing of your death, depending on whether you are ready to go or not.  And those who have gone before us, who believe in God, are in a much better place than we are on earth.

When I wonder what heaven will be like, my first thought is that it will be a place without fear and greed.  It is a place that has more beauty than I can conger in my imagination. And I have this image that as a person enters into heaven; there is a welcoming party of loved ones whose celebration of the new life is better than a team that wins the Superbowl.

And at times like this, I try to be a comfort to those who are dealing with the imminent passing of a parent.  And so I hold my friends in my heart as I pray for the souls of their parents.  For my friend who lives locally, I brought over a meal.  And I pray, because I know that some days, my friends are kept aloft on the wings of prayers.

Mable and the Last Things

               I have been thinking about Mable this week.  I worked with her in the late 1970’s in a Stouffers Restaurant in Troy Michigan.  As a summer employee, I worked in the kitchen doing “cold prep”.  While I’m sure the job included more than this, I remember peeling mountains of shrimp each week, slicing dozens of red onions, mushrooms, and romaine lettuce. But what I remember most are the Fridays in my second summer, working alongside this octogenarian who had the most wonderful outlook on life.

              

               Mable had worked for decades as a baker for a variety of restaurants in the Stouffer’s chain.  Her husband had died many years before.  Each Friday and Saturday her work would fill the kitchen with the enticing smells of the most wonderful kind of sweets – tarts and cakes and pies.  These desserts were enjoyed by the guests who feasted at the Sunday brunch.

               

               I was drawn into a wonderful friendship with her, although there were 60 some years between us.  I learned very practical details about the precision of baking and the need to measure accurately. The most important lessons I learned dealt with how to age.  At 82 she was active, worked not for the money but because it gave a routine to her life.  Some weeks her back ached or her fingers were painful.  Rather than giving up her beloved baking, she knew that aches and pains were part of getting older.  She enjoyed each day that she lives. That fall she was going to Europe for four weeks and had found a grandchild to accompany her.  She was a believer in Christ and would not work on Sunday.

               

                Mable always comes to mind this time of year.  While the leaves are turning beautiful colors and you can hear a crunch under your feet when you walk over leaves that have already fallen, November is fast approaching.  I was reminded of this yesterday when I walked by a tree that has already shed its leaves.

               

               November is the month when the Catholic Church especially prays for the dead.  The focus in November is on the “last things” – dead, judgment, heaven, and hell.  This week, I made a list of the people in my life, who are no longer with us, for whom I want the Church to pray for in November.  Among those on the list are my parents and grandparents, a friend who died of cancer last June, a work colleague who died two years ago of heart complications and Mable. 

               

               After that summer, Mable and I saw each other occasionally when I came back to work in the kitchen during an especially busy time of year.  I never knew her last name or when she died, but I do hope to find her in heaven one day and let her know the important role she has played in my life.  She is my role model for aging gracefully and I am grateful that the Lord brought us together!