Thursday, May 14, 2009

Grace

This morning I attended a funeral service for my friends' daughter who had a birth defect that made life outside the womb impossible. Her name was Grace.

Her death was not a surprise, and my friends were as prepared as they possibly could be when she and her identical (and perfectly healthy) twin sister were born last Friday. In the birth announcement email, her father said "although she lived only a few hours, she was perfect, and very, very strong. She did not suffer and passed peacefully. She was kissed over 10,000 times by daddy alone."

I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I wanted to attend this service in support of my friends, but I was not sure how it could possibly be anything but heartbreaking and devastating. In my experience, funerals have always been presented as celebrations of life. I wondered to myself, "how can they do this for Grace, who only lived for eight and a half hours?"
It was a heavily ritualized and very moving Greek Orthodox service with chant-like singing and call & response between the priest and the congregation. The priest gave an intense address in which he very pointedly proclaimed that it is a human error to think of our lives as our own. He said they are not, never were and never could be. He said the fact of the matter is that we never had the chance to express our desire to live or not; it just happened, and our life belongs to God. It's all very profound to me, and I was starting to feel the weight of this dogma and rhetoric when something surprised me. The priest began speaking about the fact that Grace was born directly to God and that she was immediately born into her new and everlasting life with God. He almost shouted with joy as he proclaimed that she was flying with the angels. It gave me chills.

I doubt that there was a dry eye in the church when Grace's father carried in her handmade wooden casket and set it at the altar among dozens of baby pink roses. When he gave the eulogy, there was palpable compassion in the air. I wish I could remember everything he said. He said that there are no words to describe the emotion that he and his family were feeling. Grief, yes. Loss, yes. Incredible sadness, yes. But also a sense of joy. He spoke of his wife's incredible courage and strength from the first day they learned of Grace's condition, something which is certainly something that I witnessed every time I visited her in the last few months. He looked right at her and said, "I love you more than words or measure." He spoke of their faith in God's plan - knowing that Grace would live as long as He intended her to live. He said that he knows that God knows there is no anger or bitterness behind his words when he says he wishes he could have Grace back. He said that their beautiful family of five will always remain a family of six.

Grace:
Etymology:Middle English, from Anglo-French, from Latin gratia favor, charm, thanks, from gratus pleasing, grateful; akin to Sanskrit grnāti he praises
Date: 12th century

1 a: unmerited divine assistance given humans for their regeneration or sanctification
b
: a virtue coming from God
c: a state of sanctification enjoyed through divine grace

No comments: