On Oil Changes...

 

I had every intention of working on a chapter of my dissertation, this morning… at the Dodge dealership… while I had my oil changed…. If you know me, it probably makes sense.  The truth is, I need to work on my dissertation.  I need to be “Ph.inisheD.”  I probably shouldn’t admit this, but the thing has pretty much been writing itself in bits and pieces I have texted to my own phone number over the course of several months.  That’s just ridiculous, and it is not my obsessively organized with lists and plans and charts and slideshows way.  It’s kind of how I imagine my academic life might have been, had I been an average student.  But I’m not sure I’ve ever been an average anything.  I’m used to being pretty much all in or all out, so writing the defining piece of my educational career in soundbites is actually fairly anxiety inducing, but that’s where I am today.

 

As has been the case time and time again in recent days, sometimes I start out to write one thing and then just find myself overwhelmed with thoughts of Seth… and grief… and whatever I was planning to write is overrun by an internal dialogue that may or may not be transformed into a mosaic of unrelated thoughts on a page.  There was a time in my life when this would have turned into a great blog post or sermon or magazine article or chapter in a book.  Over the past fifteen months and fifteen days, though, it’s just been words.  Not even full sentences.  Grief is certainly not publishable.

 

This is the third time I have sat in the café at the Dodge dealership to have my oil changed, since Seth died.  The first time was hard, because I knew they were draining the very substance that kept my car running smoothly enough to drop him off.  I wish my car had died instead.  The second time I was angry, because it felt downright stupid that I hadn’t heard Seth’s voice in so many months that the oil had to be changed again.  Today it just feels unacceptable that this will happen over… and over… and over.  It’s too much time without him.  It’s just too much.

 

The very idea that time heals grief is a lie.  As we painfully limped across the one-year mark in September, a number of well-meaning people dared to ask things like, “Are you doing better?” I’m not, so mostly I just said, “No.” 

 

But there was something else I told a select few… people I love and trust… and I think today is as good a day as any to share it here.  If the question is, “Are you OK, now,” the answer to that is never going to change.  I am never really going to be OK again.  But if the question is, “Are you still on the floor, pounding your fists into the hardwood and screaming until your throat is filled with blood and you can no longer speak?” the answer is also, “No.”  I got up off the floor. I am not doing better, but I have developed coping mechanisms so I can keep living.  I suspect I’m good enough at it now that most people probably think I’m OK, and that’s a plus.  I’m functional.  For now, that has to be enough.

 

As you may know, last night was the first night of Hanukkah.  Traditionally, my favorite Hanukkah blessing is the third blessing, which is only sung on the first night, “Blessed are You, Lord our G-d, King of the universe, who has granted us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this occasion.”  I could barely choke it out last year, because I was furious with God for not sustaining Seth’s life or enabling him to reach that occasion.  I’m still regularly asking God where he was when we needed him most, and I’m still angry.  God can take it.  But last night also hit differently, because as we sang and danced and ate jelly donuts and latkes with our Jewish neighbors, I could sing the blessing again, because I am thankful for those of us God has sustained.  And I know… I know it deep inside myself… that this attitude probably really isn’t enough, but I am nothing if not honest.

 

And so I’m thinking about another kind of oil today… the oil that burned for eight nights of Hanukkah and Elisha’s oil that filled every empty vessel in II Kings.  I’m thinking about how sometimes not enough becomes exactly what we need it to be, and I’m hoping it’s true.

 

L.        

 

It’s the Ash

We have an altar at our house.  That’s normal, right?

I was recently at a conference, where I found myself seated at a table filled with people who would all describe themselves as sacramental.  I knew, within seconds, that I was going to be way out of my league when it came to conversation about the sacraments, but let’s be real… that has never stopped me before.  I dove in with a question about how we might encourage our Protestant churches to embrace more than two sacraments.  Asking questions is a risk, especially when you are surrounded by highly educated people who have no idea who you are.  I generally ask questions to gain insight into what other people think, unless it’s a question like, “How do I make this stupid computer do (fill in the blank).”  If I’m asking that, I really need to know…  But if you ask a question, people assume you don’t know.  That’s cool.  I’m a ‘take one for the team’ kind of girl.

At any rate, questions are often answered with questions, and I found myself trying to defend confession as a sacrament.  This was a huge misstep on my part.  If you’re Protestant and you have an opportunity to defend one of the five Catholic sacraments that are not ordinarily recognized as such in Protestant circles; you should always pick anointing!  I know this, and still I was like, “Let’s talk about confession (people I don’t know)!”  Great move, L.

Well, it wasn’t too long until I was shot down and decided to keep my mouth shut for a minute. 

Dominical institution?  Of course.

Means of inward grace?  Yep.

But there is no outward sign for confession.

Fast forward a couple of weeks…

Our altar at home started out as just the wooden bench that we picked up years ago… for pennies… at a Salvation Army sale.  When we added the crucifix (itty bitty as it is), all of our Protestant friends just about died.  The rest began to come together piece by piece, and not long ago our ash pyxis arrived in the mail. 

Around this time, I realized that I actually needed to dust some things, so I sort of took the altar apart and then began to put it back together… The crucifix… the paten and chalice (Eucharist)… the oil (Anointing)… the baptismal font and holy water (Baptism)… The pyxis—the ash…

It was after midnight, when in our little house, I exclaimed, “It’s the Ash!”

Could there be a better outward sign of confession?  Of penance? Of our lives, completely broken and burned away to nothing because of sin?  Of our corporate need for forgiveness?  Of our systemic responsibility to those whom we have come to view as dispensable?

In the time honored words of Charlie Brown, “That’s it!”

Ash Wednesday…  May we stand in solidarity, recognizing that we are all formed from the same dust.  We need grace to rise.

L.

The Anointing of the Sick: Magic, Faith, or Sacrament?

The following is the first in a series of guest posts

as my family embarks on a much needed vacation!

This post was written by my new friend, Walt Gessner,

whom I met through my husband, Phil,

who met Walt when they were in the same cohort at

Northwest Nazarene University, studying Spiritual Formation.

Walt gives you a little bit more of his background

in the post that follows.

Thank you for sharing with us, Walt!

I am aware that those of us that have aligned our work and ministry with the Church of the Nazarene have varied opinions and thoughts in regard to the anointing of the sick. A mentor and very good pastor friend of mine does not like to use oil in praying for the sick. His position is a well-reasoned and understandable one: many people that sit in the pew will see the oil, receive the oil, and somehow missing the prayer in being healed will think that it was the oil that healed them. I guess he feels that many Christians do not have a very good grasp of the basic tenets of the Christian faith to recognize that the power is not in the oil, but in the one whom the oil represents: the Spirit of God.

Other Nazarenes that have a more conservative approach to theology and Christian living quickly pick up on the other name for the anointing of the sick, the Sacrament of Last Rights, and cast it aside as being “too Catholic,” and thus something that we Nazarenes best stay away from so that our theology and Christian living are not corrupted. I see their point, especially since our roots are in the Protestant stream of things. To be too Catholic might somehow pull us into that void of works over faith salvation, and thus we would fall into the trap of thinking our being good is being good enough to “make it to heaven.” It should be noted, however, that the anointing of the sick in the greater context of Christian history was practiced before the Roman Catholic Church became the Roman Catholic Church and was seen in terms of Christ’s healing of the sick and as a valid practice of the early church through the Apostle James.

Now before we go any further, I should explain that I am an ordained elder and pastor in the Church of the Nazarene, I hold a BAMin from Nazarene Bible College, two Masters degrees from Northwest Nazarene University (am I still allowed to admit that?), and am in the dissertation phase of a PhD from Regent University (an odd relationship where Fundamentalists and Pentecostals are bedfellows in the School of Divinity). My PhD will be in Theological Studies with a Christian History concentration – of course should I actually get the dissertation written and defended. My call and spiritual gifts are to be a pastor/teacher, and specifically, to encourage the body of Christ to be re-created in the image of God and ministry students to be spiritually formed in preparation, not simply complete a course of study for the piece of paper.

Why is it important to know my pedigree before we continue? Because I see sacrament in historical as well as ecclesiastical contexts; helping me at least to peel away the uninformed clichés that we often found our beliefs upon. Please don’t get me wrong. I do not feel that we are living less than Christian lives because of cliché. I do feel, however, that cliché has become the easier thing to preach and teach which is up and against good biblical exegesis and the exhortation to study to show one’s self approved. I also am forced to reconsider presupposition and allow the stories of the church to speak for themselves, even being willing to raise controversial questions at the expense of my own notions and temperament.

So why is the anointing of the sick a varied practice in the Church of the Nazarene? Really it comes down to that old saying, “In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, and in all things charity.” We Wesleyan types like this saying and attribute it to John Wesley, but it was probably something that was said before Wesley, but in principle was practiced by Wesley and was embraced by early Nazarenes.

The man that is considered the founder of the Church of the Nazarene, Phineas F. Bresee, was not a fan of the proponents of the Divine Healing Movement, which has its origins in the American Holiness Movement, but was not embraced by all Wesleyan leaning holiness folks – Bresee fell here. Before he set out and started that very first Church of the Nazarene in 1895, Bresee worked with a city holiness mission, Peniel Mission, in Los Angeles. At one point, Bresee got wind of the Mission’s inviting another holiness preacher by the name of A.B. Simpson (Simpson would become the founder of the Christian and Missionary Alliance) who was a divine healing proponent and considered an extremist. Whether coincidence or intentional, when Simpson agreed to come, Bresee pulled out and the Church of the Nazarene was born.

E.A. Girvin, a Bresee biographer, gives great insight into Bresee’s position on healing and of the anointing of the sick in writing:

I never knew a man who was freer from all forms of fanaticism, and from that presumption which so often masquerades under the guise of faith. He insisted upon our using all the means which were placed at our disposal, trusting God for the outcome, and giving Him the glory. While he frequently prayed for the healing of the sick, and his prayers were marvelously answered in many cases, he never anointed with oil. He would pray with and for those who desired to be anointed, but invariably have someone else do the anointing. His exegesis of the passage in James, referring to anointing the sick, was that the oil was used as a kind of medicine, and that we complied with that requirement when we gave to those who were ill the best remedies at our disposal. He claimed that God healed in all cases, whether means were used or not, and that healing was always divine healing.[1]

While Bresee had this position, it is also obvious that he considered divine healing a non-essential.

In October of 1907, the Church of the Nazarene would form a union with the Association of Pentecostal Churches of America, becoming the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene. One of the leaders from the Association instrumental in the union was Hiram F. Reynolds. Reynolds did see divine healing as having an important place within the Holiness Movement having testified to being healed and sanctified after suffering a nervous breakdown in 1880.

To read the articles submitted by both Nazarenes and those of the Association in The Nazarene Messenger in 1906 and leading to the union in 1907, it is easily seen that one of the “issues” leading to the union was healing. Equally interesting is to read the reports published in The Beulah Christian, the official paper of the Association. In 1906, there were reports of healing and of supernatural occurrences at the college that would be the precursor to Eastern Nazarene College.

Why are these articles, testimonies and reports important to our talk? They are important because they reveal that unity, liberty, and charity were very much at the heart of the union. Our early foremothers and forefathers in Nazarenedom would not allow non-essentials to unhinge the greater mission: to proclaim scriptural holiness to the world. So, where Bresee was not a fan of the tenets of the Divine Healing Movement, he would not allow divine healing to be the divide of a holiness people. In fact, a statement on divine healing was added to the statement of union between the two formerly separate bodies now made one and called the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene.

The anointing of the sick with oil whether one is comfortable with it or not, is indeed a valid practice within the Church of the Nazarene. If one believes that anointing with oil is an important “sacrament” (a Christ directed and biblically instructed practice of the church), then let those who desire to be healed call upon the elders (spiritual leaders) of the church, be anointed with oil, and prayed for in faith. If one should see the potential of spiritual downfall for the local gathering of Nazarenes in the practice, then let them still pray the prayer of faith, all in agreement, so that sins would be forgiven, bodies made whole, and spirits set free to be healed in heaven. If two Nazarenes disagree on the matter in fellowship, then let them commit themselves to unity, offering liberty, and sharing charity as sisters and brothers in Christ – for the Kingdom come on earth as it is in heaven. After all, this is our founding, this is our heritage.

---

[1]E. A. Girvin, Phineas F. Bresee: A Prince in Israel  (Kansas City: Beacon Hill Press, 1916; repr., Third, 1982), 377.

Prayer and Anointing with Oil when Ministering to the Dying

The following is the first in a series of guest posts for

Sacramental Saturday.

This post was written by my friend, Katie Boner,

whom I met through the GTOE program at NNU,

where Katie earned her M.A. in Theology/Spiritual Formation.

We spent two years together in the program,

and Katie had many valuable insights to offer.

She is well qualified to speak to the subject of

anointing of the sick and ministering to the dying.

I am thankful to her for agreeing to post here,

especially in the midst of my very busy summer!

I serve as a spiritual care provider in hospice. My background is Christian/Protestant, but I am trained as an interfaith chaplain. I meet people wherever they are in life, whatever belief system they may have, to love them as Christ loves us. Many times facing death brings a person closer to their spiritual roots. It causes that faith to be tested, questioned, confirmed. It is amazing to see how God works in the lives of Christians and non-Christians alike during this time.

A dying person comes face to face with what they believe about life, death, God, and the afterlife. For some, a strong faith in God exists and it brings peace. They know where they are going and though there is sorrow, there is also hope. For others, there is no belief system regarding God, other than that He does not exist. This life is all they have. There is both sorrow that things are ending and pride over a life well lived. Fear can also play a role in those last days. Others face death with no prior eschatological thoughts or relationship until the terminal diagnosis. The common threads are belief systems, traditions, and sacraments, all woven together.

Perhaps the most commonly known sacrament surrounding death is the Catholic sacrament of Last Rights, also known as the Anointing of the Sick. This is when a Catholic priest anoints a person who is gravely ill, or near death. “The anointing of the sick is administered to bring spiritual and even physical strength during an illness, especially near the time of death. It is most likely one of the last sacraments one will receive.” (http://www.catholic.com/tracts/anointing-of-the-sick) When a catholic patient requests this sacrament, as a chaplain, I contact a catholic priest, preferably one who knows the person. The priest will then visit the patient and perform this rite. This sacrament’s meaning is to help the person to become ready to face God in eternity.

During a recent visit, I met a patient in her late eighties. She had a Catholic background, but had not been active in church for many years. Her family had varying belief systems, only a few were Catholic, but all agreed that she should receive the Anointing of the Sick as it was one of her last wishes. The patient was unable to speak for herself at this point. I was able to contact a Catholic priest who arrived and performed this sacrament for the patient. It brought the family so much relief that her wishes were followed and that she received this blessing.

Anointing with oil is most often accompanied with a blessing or prayer. Throughout the Bible there are examples of people being anointed with oil. Many of these are of kings and prophets being set apart for God’s purposes. James 5:14-15 takes on a different tone for anointing with oil. “Is anyone among you sick? Let them call the elders of the church to pray over them and anoint them with oil in the name of the Lord. And the prayer offered in faith will make the sick person well; the Lord will raise them up. If they have sinned, they will be forgiven.” (NIV, www.biblegateway.com). There are differing interpretations of this passage, however it gives way to the idea of anointing those who are hurting, sick, and dying. It is again intended to set a person apart for God’s purposes.

In some Christian denominations, the sacrament of prayer and anointing with oil is an integral part of a person’s passing into eternity. Anointing with oil symbolizes something special, to be set apart and marked for God. The prayers offered at this time can bring peace, help the person get closer to God and deeper in their faith; it can bring a sense of hope, comfort, and peace. Many people request prayer for a swift and easy passing as the time gets closer. An important thing to remember here is not the sacrament itself, but the One to whom the prayers are offered. When a person gets closer to the end of their life, these sacraments bring them closer again to God and their beliefs, reuniting them with Hope.

Sometimes sacraments are not familiar to the dying. They once practiced these sacraments, or maybe have only heard of them, but dismissed them or walked away. I am amazed how this group of individuals responds when asked if a prayer can be offered. Some reject, some show ambivalence, some cry and are reunited with the faith and God of their past. The response is varied, but usually quite honest.

During another recent visit, a patient who believes in God, but also believes in working her way into heaven through good acts, was struggling with peace. She worried about all of the things she had done wrong in her life and felt she could not pray for herself. She asked me to pray. I prayed for peace in her life and for her to understand the full extent of God’s mercy and grace. She felt more peace than she had felt in awhile. It was God who brought the peace, but I also think God was working through having someone listening to her struggles without judgment or correction, letting the patient be herself. It opened her heart to asking God for peace and forgiveness.

I believe being fully present when we are ministering to people is vital. We can miss so much if we are preoccupied with our own judgments of what the person is saying, or our responses to what is being said. I am guilty of this. But I have found that when prayer for direction, awareness, and discernment is given before and during a visit, God opens my soul and my eyes to amazing things. The sacrament of prayer is not only important for the dying person, but also for the minister. If we are tuned into His voice, we see and understand more. Being fully present and listening to God’s direction allows for one to hear the meaning behind what another has said. A person’s facial expressions hold a myriad of information, as do their surroundings. The mention of a pen and tablet on a table can lead into a conversation about what is not yet written in a person’s life and is left to accomplish.

I have had the privilege of being present when a person takes their final breath. It is a sacred event when someone breathes their last and steps into Eternity. Those who know God and are at peace with life, their past, and what lies ahead, often die peacefully. Many times a family will ask me to pray over their loved one who has just passed. It gives closure and peace for those left behind.

In approaching physical death, we approach the unfamiliar, a doorway into God’s presence. It is something no one currently living has experienced before and all of us will likely only experience once. It is new territory. Medical personnel can tell us what it will look like and what we may experience physically, however the only first-hand experience a person has is when they walk that path themselves. Faith brings us comfort in this journey. Traditions and sacraments bring hope and relief for emotional and spiritual pain and questioning. They bring reassurance. Anointing with oil and prayers offered before and after death, are sacraments that bring closeness to God. This in turn brings peace, meaning, and a sense of that which is holy.