A reflection on death during the Easter season

I spent last week flat on the couch, miserable with the flu. (Michael spent two of those days in bed as well, trying to nip in the bud whatever was starting to plague him.) Just as I started to overcome that, I caught some stomach bug that kept me from eating anything. And just as my stomach started to settle and I could keep rice down...

we got the call that Michael's father, who had been fighting cancer for four years, had died peacefully at home.

Suddenly, sickness no longer mattered; a new priority took shape. The death wasn't unexpected, but

Karl Edwin Rehbaum

such news is always a shock on some level. On that beautiful, warm spring afternoon, Michael and I started making the necessary calls, even as we tried to process the news we had just received. I found a flight that left for Florida in just a few hours, so we packed up our sick selves and whatever clothing we saw first, and a friend drove us to the airport (and took our doggie to her house for the week - thank you!!).

Michael's step-mother lives here in Florida, but the rest of the Rehbaum family will start coming into town tomorrow, and it will be wonderful to be with them all and swap some stories and relish in our shared love for this dynamic, loving man. I am trying to figure out how to go through a death from the side of family, instead of the side of the church. How many funerals have I walked beside grieving families, and yet I have little clue how to be a wife in this scenario. Luckily, I have an emotionally aware and communicative husband who is usually able to tell me what he does (or does not!) need at any given moment, and I just try to read his cues. We've been doing okay, especially since we are both feeling in much better physical health after a good long sleep last night. (That's to say nothing of the night we arrived in Orlando, during which the fire alarm at the hotel went off, starting at 1am and continuing 2-3 hours, and we were allowed in our rooms to try to sleep through it. Not quite the restful and peaceful night I had prayed aloud for us before we fell asleep!)

Even as I am trying to be the wife/daughter-in-law here, however, I am ever the pastor, and so not surprisingly this experience made it into the newsletter article I just wrote. I share it below, in case you are interested.

Many of you have been praying for us during this time, We are grateful for that. Keep it up! The funeral is Wednesday, and we have every hope of it being a meaningful opportunity for worship and a celebration worthy of a man with a great zest, love, and determination for life. Thanks be to God!

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            “Peace be with you,” in the name of the Risen Christ.

            As I write this article, I am in Florida, having just learned of my father-in-law’s death following a long and courageous fight against cancer. We as a congregation have been praying for Karl for quite a while, and many of you were aware of his declining health. Though his death was not a shock to us, we didn’t expect it to be quite so soon; we thought we had at least a few more weeks if not months. Whatever the case, it is difficult ever to be fully prepared for the death of a loved one.

            Experiencing a death during the Easter season has always made this season so much more real and important to me. Easter, you see, if not just one day, but a full “week of Sundays,” a season seven weeks long. During that seven weeks, we continue to reflect on the Risen Christ and what this means for us and for our faith. It certainly brings a sense of hope to what can otherwise be a devastating time of loss. As one person quoted on my Facebook status announcing the death, “We do not grieve as others do who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). Because the whole point of the resurrection is to show us that death is not the final victor, it is not the end. It is the beginning of a new life, basking in the light and love of our glorious God. Whatever we may imagine “heaven” to be like, we can be certain of this: that death means the beginning of an eternity being in the glow of God’s love, where cancer doesn’t hurt, where brokenness doesn’t prevail, where fear has no say.

            I am reminded of this when I feel (or even see!) Karl’s granddaughter moving inside me – an active new life in the midst of grief! We can experience this when we share stories and love and compassion with family and friends who share our love for Karl. We can know the magnitude of God’s love and promise when we gather around Christ’s table and hear once again those words that Christ was given “for us,” knowing that when we gather, it is with all the communion of saints – those still with us on earth and those who have gone before us. We can remember it every time we hear those oft-uttered words of the risen Christ: “Peace be with you.” The peace he offers to us these difficult days is the peace that comes from knowing the promise of the resurrection! What a gracious God to have given us so many ways to know life, even in the midst of death and sadness.

            Even as we cling to this hope, this peace, Michael and I have been extremely grateful for your prayers and support during this whirlwind. We have been so blessed by you in our lives, over and over again. Thank you for being such beautiful witnesses to Christ’s love and grace in our lives.

                                                                                    In peace and hope,

                                                                                    Pastor Johanna