It’s, brief, ... about death

It’s, brief, to some extent about death this morning because at 6:46 last night diocesan clergy had an email from our bishop telling us the Reverend Norman Bray died of a massive heart attack while working in his office, “we believe around 4:00 pm.” The time uncertainty tells me Norman died after staff left the office for the day and was found there when someone went to check on him. It also tells me that we were informed within, perhaps minutes of the bishop finding out. In fact, the rattled nature of the bishop's email tells me that for sure. Norman was rector of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Marianna, Florida. The bishop said the funeral will be in Marianna, perhaps Friday.

If it’s not time to wax maudlin, it’s time to pause. Maybe think. Three o’clock in the morning is good for a moment of silence and to enjoy being alive, as in “Hey! I showed up again today: thank you, God!” And to appreciate being inside and warm when the red line on the back porch thermometer sits at 32F/0C as now. We have no choice of death, but it comes one way or another, this day or a tomorrow. We can be “OMG” or we can be “thank God.” If its thanks it can be for all the blessings of this life. They are too numerous to list without leaving half of them out, so when I get to the end of my list, instead of period, full stop, I’ll put a comma, 

What happens after that last breath? I don’t know, we don’t know. We may believe, but believing doesn’t make so, doesn’t create truth. I thought this was really good. http://www.cariocaconfessions.blogspot.com/2014/01/oh-hell.html This blog post of an Episcopal bishop is interesting, he’s articulate, intelligent and well spoken. I love his thesis as a kick-off for thought and discussion. And about heaven and especially hell, I’m with his ending that it’s a subject “... in which I will probably never be sufficiently interested to explore ...” Why? It hasn’t been given to me to decide. I have more than I can deal with right here. My faith is “whatever you say, Lord.” And I’m not afraid of the dark.

Father Norman Bray. May his soul, with the souls of all faithful departed, by the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

TW+