Memorial Service

As some of you know, a student on Semester at Sea was killed yesterday in a tragic boating accident.  We are having a memorial service tonight for the entire shipboard community.  I am the final speaker.  Here's what I will be saying:

The thought that has been running through my head since soon after I learned of Casey's death is this: precious things are fragile things.  And the more precious they are, the more fragile.

That seems to be a truth of our existence as inescapable as the laws of thermodynamics and the slow working of evolution.   We may not like it; it may not be the best of all possible worlds; it may not be the way any of us would have made the world if we could have our way.  But its true isn't: the more precious something is, the more fragile, the more vulnerable it is.   Our earth is precious; eco-systems are precious; our bodies are precious; our souls are precious.   And they are subject to decay, to injury, and to death.    They must be cared for.

Last night, one of you said something to the effect that  people of your generation tend to believe that they are indestructible.   She was suggesting that what happened yesterday was a tragic and shocking reminder that it isn't so.

And surely, it isn't so.  You are not indestructible.   But I hope that you have not learned that lesson too quickly, And, I hope you will not give up your illusion of indestructibility without a fight.  I say that because I believe it is a part of the source of your exuberance, your courage, and your sense of adventure.

It was that exuberance, courage, and sense of adventure that made it possible for you to choose to spend this semester at sea.  It was that exuberance, courage, and sense of adventure that had you couch surfing around the Atlantic, and doing homestays in remote villages in Ghana.   It was that exuberance, courage, and sense of adventure that had Casey out snorkeling yesterday.

And it would be a tremendous loss if you were to abandon your exuberance, become fearful.   Life isn't worth living if it's lived without joy, without enthusiasm, without passion, without adventure.

But, of course, there must be balance.   You are precious; each of us is precious!  And because we are, for better or worse, we are fragile.  WE must be cared for.

You are precious so you must take care of yourself and let others care for you.

And continue to take care of each other as you have been.    Remember the lesson of Ubuntu:  I am because you are.  As Bishop Tutu has said, "We don't come fully formed into the world. We learn how to think, how to walk, how to speak, how to behave, indeed how to be human from other human beings. … We are made for togetherness, we are made for family, for fellowship, to exist in a tender network of interdependence."

Because we are precious we are vulnerable; we must be cared for; so we have been made for each other.  So balance your exuberance and sense of adventure with a deep sense of care.  

 And channel your exuberance into caring.   Throw yourself full force into some of the things you've tentatively begun to commit yourself on this voyage. Dare to believe you can help end hunger and poverty in your life and throw yourself joyfully into it; dare to believe that you can help to discover a cure for cancer or HIV.  Dare to believe that you can learn three more languages so that you can truly connect with and care for more people.

I don't suggest that any of this will keep you from feeling the pain you are feeling now. Hey, if you want to make sure you never feel again as awful as you felt in the last twenty four hours, then learn how NOT to care about yourself, about others about the earth; abandon you joy, forfeit your commitments.

 Your pain is the price of your caring.  I wish it weren't so, but I think that's just the way it is.   

 So how do we find the persistence to carry on in such a world is this. In the face of the fact that everything precious is fragile and most be cared for.  How do we go on living with exuberance and joy if inevitably pain is the price we must pay for caring?

Each of us has to discover the answer to that question for ourselves.  But one of the ways we care for each other is to share whatever works for us.  So let me share with you what is working for me based on how I've come to understand the story that lies at the center of the Christian faith tradition in which I stand.  It is the story of the cross and resurrection of Jesus, who we believe to be the incarnation of God.

For me that story is the source of my conviction that God is with us; that God bears and shares with us all the pain that accompanies our precious vulnerability and the that intensifies as we learn to care.   And God has promised that the way to whatever joy, fulfillment, and salvation is possible for us is only through suffering and not around it.   And it is this conviction on which I draw as I struggle to care even as I understand that such caring puts me at risk of great pain.

My hope and prayer for you is that you find your way through this season of suffering and come out the other side with deeper love, deeper commitment, and deeper joy because of it.  I believe you can.  I believe you will.