I might as well finish up with Wheelock now.  This is another poem about aging.  But I think there are some wonderful things, things filled with wonder, that speak to me in it.  He talks about age as a time for praise and adoration and gratitude.  he talks about the face “from which the eyes of love look out at us.”  He talks of his house, “marvellous with ghosts, where so much love Dwelt for a little while and made such music … Oh, all is music!  All has been turned to music!  All that has vanished has been turned to music!”  He seems to strike a wonderful balance between the inevitability of loss and ending and suffering and the wonder of living in God’s creation.  So here it is: (more…)

This is the poem that made me look up John Hall Wheelock’s work (though I had only seen the section after the Break at that point):

Shall not a man sing as the night comes on? (more…)

I preached a homily at the celebration remembering the life of Bruce Buel, the  brother of one of our active parishioners, this afternoon.  This is it: 

I never met Bruce. Cathy talked about him, and how much his presence meant in her life. And how she misses him, now that he’s gone. And the fact that he was afraid to die. And how much that troubled her. But I never met Bruce. I did not have that privilege. (more…)

Brother Adam writes about things that are irretrievably lost, except in memory, in his piece “The Death of Eurydice” in his blog.  You can find the whole thing here.  But to whet your appetite, here is where the penny dropped and he realized why he was resisting writing a piece: (more…)

My friend and colleague Zealand Hillsdon-Hutton died in the early hours of this morning.  He’d been assisting at St. George’s for years, and was a real godsend to me.  I will miss him. (more…)

The son of a couple who attend St. George’s died about a week ago.  He was 20 years old, and it looks like it was probably an accidental drug overdose (mixing alchohol and other drugs recreationally).  I’ve been wanting to address this, and didn’t know what I wanted to say.  This is simply tragic for him, his family and his friends (of whom there are many).  There is nothing that makes it alright.  But we do have to live with it.  And we will have to move forward from here.

My sermon for last Sunday, Mother’s Day, wrote itself once I started writing about a parent’s love and God’s love.  And, although it is not really about this death, the sermon does mention his death, and is really probably what I would want to say about his death.  So it’s about love and death and even something about my core beliefs as a Christian.

If you want to hear the sermon, you can find it here.  (The week beginning May 10 it’s the video sermon on this page.  In following weeks, it should be available in the audio links to earlier sermons.)  If you would like to read the sermon, it follows below: (more…)

Well, I’ve been on call twice.  And twice I’ve been called in.  This most recent time, I gave last rites to a 92 year old gentleman — who may have eventually recovered, I don’t know.  The regular chaplain follows up with this.  Anyway, he had pnuemonia after two surgeries (and seemed totally unaware that I was there).  His wife and family, however, were appreciative. (more…)