Brentwood Spirituality

When my cousin Larry died at 21 my family and I were wracked with grief and agony. My sadness from the pulpit was palpable as I offered the eulogy and cried along with all who loved him. He was unfairly ripped from our embrace, and our family was bereft without him. After the funeral a family friend approached me and said, “For 25 years I’ve bottled up my anger because I was told I should be grateful for the years my baby was alive. I was so sad when she died but I was not allowed to express my grief and sorrow. You finally allowed me to feel my pain and cry freely.â€
We gathered as a family to mourn, to grieve, to feel the ache of his loss. But never did anyone approach me and ask where was God, for we felt the divine presence. There were loved ones who gathered from all over this country to be together. There were friends who fed us and nurtured us and sustained us. We didn’t ask why – because had the answer been a weak chromosome or a broken link in the genetic makeup of his body, would that answer be sufficient for any of us?
Rather, we found our spirituality in the care, love and support from those on whom we depended. There was one remarkable event which I will never forget. Bill, Larry’s older brother, was having his 25th birthday that week. There was no way anyone could call it a “happy†birthday. But birthdays do occur, and to leave it unannounced or avoided would not have been right. All of us were so wrapped up in our pain; we were numb to realize that life was still going on. A friend of the family went out, got a cake which had written on it “Bill’s 25th Birthday†and we marked a special joy in the midst of that pain. That inspiration in a friend, to help us taste life’s pleasures again – that special spark she had comes from someplace, and we call that God. God is present in each person who aids another at a time of deepest need.
At a time of pain, we need to reach out and be the hands of holiness. Caring for others is not a matter to avoid. It’s part of who we are and how we have to act, reaching deep within ourselves. Those we know and love may hurt physically, emotionally, spiritually, or mentally. Our hands must reach out to those in need, even if the edges are jagged, or we’re discomforted, or it aches, or we tremble.
The ancient rabbis teach us that the Bible itself begins with an act of loving-kindness: God made garments of skin to clothe man and woman. It ends with another; for God buried Moses in a valley. It is in such gracious deeds that we can and should imitate the Holy One, who clothes the naked, visits the sick, comforts the mourners, and buries the dead. Our beliefs are in our hands.