From the Rector…
This past Friday night, a young man died doing something he loved. Caden Tellier, the quarterback of his high school football team, Morgan Academy in Selma, was tackled around the knees. When he fell, he hit his head in such a way as to cause a brain injury, which ultimately led to his death. Caden wished to be an organ donor, and his parents are honoring that request. His mother writes, “Caden is still fighting hard in his earthly body to bring new life to others. We continue to pray for those whose lives will be forever changed by his gifts.”
I can’t imagine how difficult it must be to lose your son so early in his life, and to watch as he is taken into an operating room not to be saved him but to give his organs away. As much as Caden offers his body as gifts for others, his parents offer their spirit in releasing him, so that he and those who receive his organs, may find renewal.
There are no guarantees in this life. Death comes to us all, often when least expected. Some people have the opportunity to prepare for their deaths and approach death as a friend finding peace in the process. Others resist death and cling to life at all costs. I have witnessed both kinds of death in my experience as a hospice social worker and now as a priest. Grief always brings deep sorrow, but there is a difference in how that sorrow is expressed and can become suffering depending on how we approach death.
It doesn’t take a cancer diagnosis or some other life-threatening event to address the fear and dread of death; it simply takes a life grounded in faith and trust in the promises of God. This is evident in the Tellier family—their Facebook posts are filled with that trust in God. Although they must be deeply grieving, their sorrow is not compounded by a suffering of doubt or fear. It is okay to question God, even disagree with God, but ultimately, our faith and hope are built on a trust in things unseen and unknown.
Grief is hard. It has been over two and a half years since my father’s death. Though I know he has received the promise of eternal life and believe that he is in that place of peace and joy where tears and pain are no more, I still grieve for his loss. Mostly, I miss my father and my heart hurts because I cannot be in his presence or share a funny story or hear his words of love for me. My grief is one of sorrow, but I do not believe that is the same as suffering. Suffering debilitates us, causing us to get stuck or lost in a place of blame and unrealized expectations, which contribute to our fear and limit our hope. Grief does not have to be that. Sorrow can be reverent and strengthen us in ways that suffering never will.
The witness of sorrow grounded in the strength of the Tellier family is powerful. Through that witness that they show us how to grieve and trust in the promises of God.
Caden embodied this strength in his own faith and witness to all who knew him and now to those who will share in his body. His spirit will be at peace—living in the resurrection of eternal life—and his body will offer renewal to all who receive the gift of him. “For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. For if we live, we live unto the Lord; and if we die, we die unto the Lord. Whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s.” (Romans 14:7-9; BCP, p. 469)
Light and Life
Candice+