The patron saint of Berkeley Chapel is St. Luke, so tonight, we celebrated our patronal feast with Bishop Abraham Nhial of the Diocese of Aweil in the new nation of South Sudan as celebrant. In recognition of Luke not only as evangelist but as healer, we had healing stations during communion for those who were so inclined to go for healing and anointing. Since Seth died, I have avoided this, knowing how sensitive I am emotionally in contemplating that enormous loss and how difficult it would be for me to ask for healing for something I am not at all sure can be healed. However, tonight, I did go forward to our Associate Dean of Students, The Rev. Julie Kelsey, and told her I would really like for my broken heart to be healed. And she said a beautiful prayer and blessed me and anointed me with oil, and the tears came, as I knew they would.
I returned to my seat and prayed, and the tears stopped. But when I opened my eyes, there was a line of people waiting for healing, and directly in front of me was a woman who battled cancer all last year standing with her teenaged son. And as they waited in line, she was hugging him from behind or they had their hands intertwined, and it was such a beautiful and loving scene. And then my heart felt torn apart once again because I can't hold Seth or hug him or hold his hand or sing with him as this woman was doing. I don't know if the flood of tears that drenched my face had any healing power in them at all, but the warmth of the hand of the woman next to me and the shared tears of the one on the other side of me and the prayers that enveloped me at least let me know that I am loved and not alone. Although no one can know for sure how this death of my beloved son feels to me, that can at least walk with me in my grief, and that is an immeasurable gift.
At the end of our Wednesday Eucharist, our Dean, Joseph Britton, usually makes a slew of announcements or invites them from the congregation. Realizing that the atmosphere in the chapel this evening was charged with emotion and a healing presence, he dismissed with those announcements altogether. It was a remarkable display of sensitivity and grace.
Thank you to all of those who weep with me, who pray for me even when I am not aware of your prayers, and who love me in my sorrow as well as my joy. And thanks to Luke the Physician for being able to work healing in unexpected ways. Even when the heartbreak itself is beyond repair, grace abounds in the love we share in this community of faith. Thanks be to God.
