“If you had been here, my brother would not have died…”
A sermon for
Ezekiel
37:1-3(4-10)11-14
Romans
6:16-23
John 11:(1-17)18-44
Psalm 130
In the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit.
Amen.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day! I was going to scurry in this morning and
change all the vestments and hangings to green, but I thought that Canon Cliff
Carr, who was diocesan liturgist before he retired, might frown at me. And you all know how easily I am intimidated,
right? So, we’re purple. But I still wish you a great St. Pat’s
Day—Erin Go Bragh!
Instead of preaching on today's scriptures as I
usually do, I would like to invite you to consider an issue relating to our
parish community, an issue deeply rooted Jesus' Gospel message.
Most of you know that in January, my
mother-in-law had bypass surgery. For
all that I have experience of working in the medical setting, know how to
communicate with medical staff, and have some grasp of medical procedures and
drugs, we had a very difficult time.
Even knowing procedures and how to "work" the system, I had a
very difficult time getting her what she needed.
Every morning, I would check in with the morning
nurse. Every afternoon, I would check in
with the evening nurse. They ALL had my
cards and my phone numbers. The
therapists knew me. The doctors knew me. But STILL we had problems. People wouldn't give me information, didn't
have time to talk to me, and decided to send Lois home without the rehab which
was actually ordered. Because of this,
she ended up back in the hospital after only a couple of days in very serious
condition.
When she came home, we had to move in with her
for a while, manage medications and food, while trying to work. Only now--10 weeks later and after three
bouts of drug interactions--have things improved and she's beginning to get
back on her feet.
I simply cannot imagine what would happen to
someone who had no one to advocate for them or whose family members were themselves ill.
Well, actually, I do know. We would have situations like we hear about
all the time: people who can’t afford to buy their medicine. People who don’t eat for several days, because
they’re sick and alone and can’t get out to buy
food. People who go into the hospital
and don't get the care they need, because there are too few nurses for the
patient load. People who are sent home
from the hospital early because insurance requires it, and are all alone,
because there is no one to help them.
This troubles me terribly. I saw it when I was a hospital chaplain. I saw it even more when I was a home hospice
chaplain--people literally dying at home alone.
I see it in the parish. And
everyone that I talk with says that things are only going to get worse.
Families are going to continue to be spread out all over the country. Society is going to continue to be
fragmented, where neighbors often barely know each other. Financial and staffing problems will continue
to put pressure on our medical system.
More and more of us are going to be falling through the cracks. I don't mind telling you that it scares me.
I don't have any kids. My family are literally scattered from coast
to coast, and they all have their own lives and they have to have jobs to make
ends meet. Who's going to help me when I
get sick? And if, please God, both my
husband and I live to an extremely old age together--we're planning for 98 or
99--who's going to take care of us when we're both frail and can't take care of
each other? If we go into a nursing
home, who's going to check to be sure we're not being abused?
Even if you have money to pay for it, if you are
sick and alone, who is going to arrange for your care? Who is going to help figure out how to take your
12 brand-new medications, when you come home from surgery? How are you going to pay for incredibly
expensive treatments when you're living on a fixed income and can barely pay your
rent? If you can't drive, how are you
going to get to all the doctor's appointments?
And we are not talking only about what happens when you get old. Who's going to help you with your sick
child/spouse/parent, when you have to go to work so you can keep a roof over
their head?
I hate these questions. And I hate it that we have to ask these
questions. And I hate it that some of us
have to live in fear of the realities of these questions. But they're there. And for some of us, they’re in our faces
every day.
You probably know me well enough by now to know
that if I have questions, I also have some possible answers. I would like to propose to you that this
parish become a time machine. I would
like to propose that we adopt some of the practices of the early church. You know how much I love quoting the sayings of
the church mothers and fathers; I am proposing that we live them. In the earliest days, the Christian community
was the basic unit. We lived closely together, we shared our work and worship time. We socialized. We cared for our children together; we cared
for our sick together; we cared for our single people, our widows and widowers
together. And other people were drawn to
the warmth and love of that community and from that into life in Christ.
2,000 years later, what would a modern version
of that early church community look like?
We already worship together. We
already do a lot of work in the church and in the larger community. We certainly socialize. One of my non-Trinity
friends, after reading our newsletter and seeing our Bulletins for a few months
asked, "Don't you people do anything but eat?" To which I replied: "Nothing happens
here without food being involved in some way." True of the Sunday Eucharists,
too, right? All sorts of wonderful and
exciting things are happening for the children.
What else could possibly be missing?
Our sick. Our people who can’t care
for themselves. Where do they fit
into the picture?
We have such a wealth of knowledge and
experience in the congregation that it seems wrong not to make use of it. We have nurses, doctors, paramedics, social
workers, home health aides, therapists, mental health professionals, case
workers, body-workers, pharmacists, dental technicians, insurance people, and
people experienced with the VA. We have
people with skills that I'm sure I don't even know about. And we have lots of caring and concerned lay
people--and for these purposes I include myself in that category.
My thought is to begin to organize our resources
and to help people find out what kinds of support and assistance might be
available to them. Not that our folks
would necessarily provide primary care, but would serve as resources for
obtaining care. There's
lots out there, but sometimes it's hard to access. Or needs specific kinds of
information. Or
takes persistence, which we might not have if we're ill. If we are serious about our commitment to
building Christian community, it seems like the only logical thing to
do--literally to care for each other.
This is what I'm thinking: I invite you all to a
very informal, brainstorming session on this topic after Easter. I've reserved the Parish Hall on Saturday,
April 13, from 1-3, so we can pray together about this, talk, plan, day-dream,
throw out ideas, talk about needs, take inventory of our resources.
I haven't a clue what this might look like. Or even if you think that we need it. Or if we need it, that we
can do it. But I do see the
structure of the medical and social service systems becoming less and less
friendly and I am afraid that more and more of our people will not be receiving
what they need. We have to consider
going back in time to the days when the church was the prime support and
advocate. If we don’t take care of each
other, no one else is going to do it.
Around 200 a.d., the
church father Tertullian wrote that the pagans were
saying about Christians: "See how they love one another." It's probably the worst kind of pride, but I
want the church--our church--to be like that.
Somebody from around the diocese said, "Oh, you're from Trinity where
they do all that prayer stuff." You
can imagine how I was thrilled. I would
love it even more if I heard, "Oh, you're from that place where they care
for one another."
Many of us are already involved in ministries of
healing and of compassion. I have a
little hit list of whom to call for what: call this person if food needs to be
delivered; call that person if there's a social service need; call a third
person if there's a question about pharmaceuticals. But it's a drop in the bucket, compared to
what is needed and compared to what we can do for each other with all the
wonderful people we have in this parish.
So, for those of you who have your calendars on
you, your electronic organizers, your palm pilots, or
just the plain old-fashioned skin-covered palm, please make a note of April 13,