Today I did a graveside service for a family. I had sat with them as their loved one slowly let go of this life and embraced the next. It took a lot longer than any of us expected, but then you could always count on this person to say or do the unexpected.
It got me thinking about what I would want when I was the one lying in that bed, looking nothing like myself and certainly nothing like I would want to look. I am thinking I'd like to hear my children tell stories and laugh; I'd like to hear some solid hymns (I'll be sure to leave a list) and a few pieces of classical music; prayers would be nice, especially the old liturgical ones.But in the end, I think I would like to have someone reading scripture: the stories I have come to love which have opened the door to the transcendent God for me. The story of Moses arguing with God; Jeremiah's complaint that the Word of God was a fire in his belly. I'd like to hear again Mary's song of praise and trust in God from Luke and the story of the woman with the 12 year flow of blood who touched the hem of Jesus' garment. Perhaps in the end I would like to hear again of how Mary anointed Jesus' feet and then Jesus turned around and washed the feet of the disciples.
Then finally, Mark 16.1-8 Early in the morning on the first day of the week the women went to buy spices.and then went to the tomb. They said to one another "Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?" When they looked up, the stone had been rolled away and a young man said, "Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here....."
When the moment comes when those who have loved me (for reasons I will never truly understand but for which I am deeply grateful) see that I am no longer there, I want them to know that those were the words that shaped my life and they are my legacy to them.
As for me, I will be with the risen Lord.
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