A CONVERSATION WITH "MAC"
(with fond remembrances of The Rev. H. Allison McHenry: "Mac" as we all called him)
A sermon by Earl William Greene, Jr., based on John 14:1-14, Luke 20:27-38, Isaiah 25:6-9, Revelation 21:1-6, John 11:32-44.
Every once in a while I thumb through the little book Children's Letters to God. Here is one: "Dear God, what is it like when you die? I don't want to do it, but I'd just like to know."
Wouldn't we all?
There's a fascination about death. We never outgrow that. Halloween gives us an excuse. Children love to get scared by telling spooky stories, and sometimes go "too far" with it.
As adults, we aren't supposed to believe in ghosts. Yet, there are stories in almost every family about "something weird" that has happened to someone in the family - "something" you just can't explain by ordinary logic.
Now, some of you may be a little apprehensive about where we're going with all this. But, I don't know much more about all of this than you do; even theological training doesn't give you the answers!
I read articles about "near-death experiences", and I'm curious, too! I want to know more about what other cultures have believed. I want to know what "new age" understandings have to teach us.
But there are many who say, "dead is dead" - that there's nothing before or after - that we're no different from the trees or the flowers, or the animals. At best, we're only fertilizer for the next generation.
But for me, some reflection on death and the after-life makes the "quality" of my life now richer, more "centered" and more "connected" to the bigger picture.
As a pastor, it's hard to help families at the time of death when they have no framework, no faith, no philosophy, no feeling of "connection" beyond the present.
Orthodox Christian theology provides only a piece of the puzzle. It's an important piece, but there are still so many questions left.
Some thirty-five years ago, when I was a young theological student, one of my mentors was a pretty liberal, free-thinking Baptist pastor. Yes, they do exist. We called him "Mac." He was serving his last pastorate before retirement.
Out of the blue one day he said, "I've come to the conclusion that if there's a life after death, it's in the genes - the ones I passed on to my children and grandchildren."
Now, at that time I thought Mac was pretty old. If anyone knew about the after-life, Mac should! "That's not very biblical," I responded. In his wise and dry way he answered, "you don't say! Thanks for reminding me about that, Bill."
Not long ago I was thinking about that conversation of thirty-five years ago. I wanted to pick up the conversation where we left it 35 years ago. You can do that with some people. But I was sure he was dead. He was "ancient" when I knew him.
I'd heard that he and his wife had moved into a church retirement home. But that was thirty years ago, and there hadn't been any contact between us since.
"Pilgrim Haven" is in Los Altos, up in the bay area. I got the number from information.
"Hello, I'm looking for a retired pastor. McHenry's his name."
The switchboard operator said, "oh yes, Mac's here in our nursing unit. But he's having dinner now. Call him in about an hour--he has a private phone in his room."
I waited the hour. I felt a little ridiculous. Would he remember me?
"Mac, this is Bill Greene..."
"Bill Greene. Well, it's nice to hear from you."
I jumped right in: "Mac, what do you think about death?"
"Death? I sure do think about it. I'm 98 now."
"Mac, thirty-five years ago you said that eternal life is really just about your genes. What do you think now?"
"Well, I've sure got a lot of genes around - there are more grandchildren and great grandchildren than I can keep track of."
"So, what do you think, Mac?"
"Well, it's clear to me that the writers of the Bible wrote about death and the "beyond" pretty much the same way other cultures did in that part of the world. I sure don't think much of their ideas about heaven or hell, that's for sure!"
"Bill, I'm 98 now. I've had some 'experiences.' My wife died five years ago. Yet, I know for a fact that she was "with me" - countless times - especially during the first few months. Then, in a while she seemed to move on. Yet, there are still times when I'm startled by something that tells me she's closer than I thought. The older I get the more open-minded I get. God is 'bigger' to me every year."
We talked for awhile, reminiscing. I thanked him for all he'd done for me when I was a student. We said good-bye.
Mac always was a wise man. He's right. As the years go on I get more open-minded, too. For every "mystery" that I'd figured out years ago, I now find layers and layers of "mystery" underneath. Mac is right. God gets 'bigger' every year.
"I'm going to make a place for you, " said Jesus. "Many rooms. Enough for everyone." Does that mean many different kinds of situations? Does it include re-incarnation? What about second chances for us to get our life lessons right? Jesus doesn't say. He only said, "Trust. Don't be afraid. There is more for you. Much more."
In my first parish in Seattle, one of our members Dora Stuart, an old woman, was dying at Harbourview Hospital. I went there. They told me "it could be any hour now." She was alone. I decided to "wait it out" with her.
"Pastor, do you believe in heaven?"
Now, I was right out of seminary where we debated these kinds of things. I was tempted to go into a "teaching mode" with her, like: explaining how the mid-eastern religions thought in terms of heaven being golden streets where there was plenty of water, voluptuous women, and pearly gates, mansions, and long, flowing white robes for everyone.
But I didn't go into any of that. Nor did I tell Dora about Mac and his genes. Instead, I stayed in a "pastoral mode." What I said to her was this, "yes Dora, I believe in heaven - absolutely so!"
"You know," she said, "I'm going to die today."
"Yes, Dora, I know."
"I'm very tired."
"I know that you are."
With a little nervous laugh Dora said, "I never died before."
I answered back, with the same nervous kind of laugh, "Dora, I've never been with someone who died right in front of me, either."
Then Dora said, "You know, Pastor? I think we'll both be fine. Tell the people at church that I'm all right."
We held hands. In about two hours Dora was with God. Waiting there with her I was gradually aware that I was with God, too. We were connected - Dora, God and I. We always will be. And we're both just fine, just like she said.
As I continue my walk with God, each year I am aware that there is more to this life, there is more to God, and there is more to life beyond this one than I ever imagined when I was younger. It's not that I now have some "inside track with God." It's that life and "losing" precious friends and loved ones is itself a great teacher Where we came from, and where we're going is a much bigger mystery than we can ever fully fathom.
My faith is that each one of us is precious to God. Not one of us will be lost or wasted, for God will go anywhere to find us - to keep us connected.
Each of us is irreplaceable - there's not another copy anywhere - from our fingerprint and our DNA - to our hopes and dreams. We are irreplaceable to those who love us, and we are irreplaceable to God - one of a kind. No matter what happens in this life; no matter what happens in the life beyond, we are connected to each other, and connected to God.
Thinking about life and death doesn't have to be morbid. What it does is to offer a bigger perspective than when we're just focused (like with blinders on) - on the present.
What it does is to keep us from being so impatient about "getting it all now." It's possible to be more patient, for we can discover that outcomes are a process, and not a "quick fix." It's possible to "chill out" and not to take everything as a crisis, or to "buy into" the feeling that every change is an "emergency." It's possible to love this life passionately and yet not cling to this life and to this body and to what we own as though it's out only chance to ever know "life."
Having a perspective on "eternal life" makes it possible to begin "letting go," from trying to control everything. There is a possibility of greater serenity because we know that we're "connected" - not only in this "present," but also to the past, and to God's future.
And, there's another very curious possibility which comes with a faith about eternal life. The ancient prophet Isaiah imagined life after death as a time of all-inclusive banquets, given by God, who is stronger than all the powers of death.
Everyone was there. The banquet was for all people. Even Israel's old enemies were there.
Now, if we really believed in such a life after death we might even be more willing to reconcile with old enemies now, for we would know that in the "end" we'd all be breaking bread together anyway. We might even decide that our "enemies" deserve to be treated better even now. Just imagine what that would do to relationships of all kinds all over the world!
Being "open" to life beyond this life, being "connected" with Mac and Dora and all the others is a way of helping to make this present experience of ours more meaningful. A faith about "eternal life" can color the way we face the challenges and joys of every moment, and provide a perspective on all creation and on the unfolding process of life itself.
Jesus said, "come with me, follow the path. Trust. There are many rooms, many possibilities. There is far more beyond than you have ever hoped for. Amen.