SUMMER 2002
ear Friends,
This is my first column as your new clerk, and I would like to begin with expressions of gratitude, first to Gloria for her dedication and able faithful service over the years (thank you!), and to all of you for giving me this opportunity to serve you as clerk. If you are not already doing so (and I know some of you are—bless you!), I invite you to pray for me, for all committee members, for Phil Anthony, and for the entire Quarter, seeking Divine guidance that we all might walk in the light of God’s love and remain ever open to the Spirit’s leading. I shall certainly be thanking God for all of you as individuals, as monthly meetings, and as a Quarter body, and praying for our continued health and growth. Praying for and upholding each other, we shall, I am convinced, become an ever stronger community. More and more deeply rooted in God and fed by springs of living water, we shall remain strong and vital. Thank you for the trust you have placed in me and, most of all, for your prayers.
The past several weeks have been incredibly intense for me. A long-time attender at Woodbury Monthly Meeting died of liver cancer on First-day, April 14. The two weeks before that, I had greatly increased the amount of time I spent with her, eventually staying with her overnight and much of the day. Nora Iwanaga of Woodbury helped in the woman’s last days, and I was able to get a couple of hours of sleep each day over that last intense weekend. Since our friend’s death, I have been busy taking care of family and legal business. I have learned a lot about New Jersey law, federal regulations, the hospice movement, the funeral home business, and so much more. The most important thing I learned, however, and I will remember and cherish this a very long time, is what the Spirit revealed to me in a holy moment the woman and I shared the day before she died. I will relate what happened in my language, using my holy words. I invite you to read “in tongues.” With the Spirit’s help, I believe you will understand even if our holy words differ.
From about 2:00 am until 4:30 am on Seventh-day, April 13, while I was alone with her, the woman struggled to breathe, continuously bringing up mucus. She required constant care. It was taxing and messy work for both of us. Throughout that difficult period, I prayed for strength, wisdom, patience, and the ability to remain alert and responsive. Of course, I also prayed for our friend, who was in a piteous state. I was at my wits’ end. I had had very little sleep—45 minutes since the night before—and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could continue at that hectic pace. Suddenly, just before the mucus stopped flowing, I saw her as the presence of Christ. I am not speaking of “that of God in her,” but of Christ in the flesh. I remembered the words of Jesus in Matthew’s gospel: “I was ill and you comforted me. . . . Every time you do this for the least of my sisters or brothers, you do it for me.” In that moment, the woman incarnated God’s radical identification with humanity. In a flash, I was the woman who washed Jesus’ feet and dried them with her hair. I was John at the foot of the cross. No, our friend was not perfect or suddenly saintly, but I saw in her ailing body the Holy before me, married, bonded, melded to our humanity. I had a strong sense that this was a “Godding” moment, a moment when God was being revealed to me not as an abstract concept, feeling, or emotion, but as tangible reality.
I became aware of another presence. Christ, or the Spirit, was with the woman and me. Almost automatically, I began praying, “Stay here. Keep watch with us. Watch and pray.” Again, in a flash, I saw that to her I was the presence of Christ. She was the suffering Christ, I the comforting Christ. We were “Godding” each other. The holiest moment—and this is difficult to explain—was when I saw together as One a trinity of Christs: the real presence of Christ in the woman’s ordeal, the real presence of Christ in my ministry to her, the real presence of Christ at the bedside with us, praying with and for us. The Spirit was over all, weaving us together with dynamic energy, blessing us with peace and with a Life which is greater than life.
I am not sure that I will ever be able to read the words attributed to Jesus in Matthew without remembering what took place in that bedroom. I am challenged through that experience with my friend to see as Christ each person who serves me, to see as Christ each person I serve, to see as Christ each person who serves alongside me. Surely, the Presence in our midst is a real presence, not an idea, dream, or theological abstraction—if only we have the faith, love, courage, and humility to see! Who will reveal that Presence to us? It may be a neighbor, a dying friend, a beautiful child, a total stranger, perhaps even a whole community. Who knows when the Holy will become more real than real and surprise us into knowing? As we pray for and serve each other, and as we reach out to others in faithful service, perhaps the Holy will become so real that we will end up “Godding” each other day after day. Peace be with you, and
May God bless us all,
Michael Gibson, Clerk.RETURN TO TABLE OF CONTENTS
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Wednesday, February 18, 2004 at 08:19 AM
