Walking the Valley

In spite of the bursting sun rays, the pulse of sap in the veins of trees, and the territorial songs of feathered creatures, death is walking.   In the clear blue air of yesterday, the information was transmitted that Dave Smith, a beloved and vigorous pastor, died suddenly.  

 He was 55 years old.  I was with Dave last week at a meeting, and his response to the typical question:  "How are you" was "I feel great!  In fact, better than ever."  He was in between pastoral calls, and was eager to discover where the Lord was leading him next.   That was last Thursday.  And by Monday he was gone from us, embraced in the arms of eternal, loving life.  


To say we are walking the valley of Death seems like an understatement.  Bottom line, many of us are paralyzed with shock and sadness -- the breath has been knocked out of us. 


There is no shame in expressing grief as individuals or as the church community.  This loss, quite frankly, makes no sense.  When the church needs passionate vigorous and articulate people, how can we get our heads around the untimely departure of a man who, quite frankly, was one of the brightest and the best on our roster?  When the proclamation and the activation of the gospel was Dave's most fervent desire and  his most abundant gift, how can it be that his voice is now silent and his hands are now still?  Nobody knew that Dave was close to death, and in fact, he seemed to be one of the most healthy, functioning pastors around.  


Frankly, there is no hope of reasoning ourselves into understanding this.  Mortal birth, life and death are mysteries.  When I think of everything that needs to be in order and functioning for any millisecond of my life to occur I stand in awe.  How can it be that so much of life works well without my notice or intention?  


I wish it wasn't so easy to live with a sense of entitlement.  


When we well ought to be exhaling the words "Thank you" every moment, we tend to wander about wondering "Is that all there is?"  When we walk in isolation or self absorption it is so easy to become blind to the outpouring of life and potential that is all around us.  That is why it is so important for us to be together in a community that looks beyond individual interests.   Together we listen for God's voice.  Together we walk towards God, knowing that nomatter what is going on about us, we are guided and sustained by the "rod and the staff" of His Word.  


In that certainty we can encourage each other to pay attention to what is really, really, real!  Even though pain and obstacles may create a dark valley and narrow our scope, our shared faith lifts our eyes to expansive horizons of hope.   When somebody we encounter has stumbled into the mire and is suffering, we can offer words and deeds that will relieve their strife until they can partake of life's goodness again on their own.  And when we are the ones who have wandered off into the darkness of fear, doubt or despair, we can trust that our brothers and sisters will help us find the path of light.  


It is ok, and in fact it is appropriate to hold one another in the inevitable questions about the loss of Dave.  However, I know Dave well enough to know what he would want to say to us.  It would be something like:  "I am well, folks.  I have been led to the house of the Lord, where I will dwell forever.  Now get busy about the work of the Kingdom, knowing that there is a place here for you as well."  


It seems to be no coincidence that this week's readings include Psalm 23...  a psalm of David!  

Psalm 23 

The LORD is my shepherd, I shall not want.He makes me lie down in green pastures; he leads me beside still waters;he restores my soul. He leads me in right paths for his name's sake.
Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff-- they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD my whole life long.