I have been thinking

No surprise there

I have been thinking about remembering. I guess it is because of the time of year that is approaching. Schools, community groups and churches will shortly be celebrating Harvest. We will remember how food is produced, and in some schools learn how it is produced.

Attention will turn very quickly to acts of Remembrance. At my Church from 29 September to 2 October, we will remember the ancient feast of Michaelmas; the church is dedicated to St Michael and All Angels.

We will then focus our attention of National Remembrance, and more importantly for us, all soulstide and our annual memorial services for those who have been bereaved.

I have been remembering, with affection and regret my late father, who was at one at the same time the most amazingly brilliant and infuriating human being I have ever met in my life.

This poem is dedicated to him. It was written on the beach (Lee Bay, Devon) earlier this summer, in the middle of making sand castles with my boy. In part it reflects unanswered questions; and in part touches on a relationship that could have been better, but was not because of the multi-layered needs of two highly complex human beings. I trust this poem is helpful to others. Sometimes, we need to release the one who has died, and sometimes they need to release us. That does not fit into nice neat evangelical theology and is probably beyond the ken of those without faith… but in my experience as someone who has lost and walked with those as a priest with those who have also lost, it rings true.

Where the sea meets the horizon,

and the sun dances on the white horse waves,

an empty chair sits still,

for this wiseman who is a fool.

We sat opposite each other for ages,

smiling,

nodding and (male) groaning;

but we never said a word.

Each of us struck by a dumbness that Zechariah would have found

absurd.

 

I cannot own your anger,

until I have embraced my own.

Your moist eyes cannot woo me,

this destiny is mine alone.

 

You left me to face the darkness of a myriad of issues alone

words of comfort overwhelmed me, but they were hollow, empty;

filled with pity

 

You were not angry on my behalf

You allowed my tears to fall unheard

Your hand was far from me

Your smile began to be unheard

 

Then you performed the final audacity

Dying before I could say, why did you leave

 

And yet,

And yet,

there is still an anger, which ravages me

 

Even tigers though can be tamed

or at least there mouths shut tight

My anger can be controlled

No fear,

Regret

No bitterness,

Sorrow

I start my journey afresh, unencumbered and alone.

 

One day soon, – I do trust

I will sit in the (your) empty chair

and release you from that anger

that you seemed to make me bear

 

Life will be fruitful

No longer hindered by regret

The staff in my hand is bathed now in light

Finished – it will be

May God bless you my father, now and always.

It is interesting that the writing is cathartic. I hope the reading will be too.

Peace to all.

As we remember those we have loved and lost, let us be open about the ambiguities we face, acknowledging that each one of us is ambiguous, frail yet infused with glory