Remembering Joy from those we loved and see no longer

Remembering Joy from those we loved and see no longer

“But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them.” Wisdom 3:1.

 My experience is that those who have known the death of a loved one around Christmas may find the holidays not always a joyful time in their memory. So today, I remember my brother again, and Archbishop Desmond Tutu, who died on Boxing Day in 2021 at age 90.

I have written about my brother, who died in December eleven years ago in 2014, on Boxing Day, the second day of Christmas. He died four months after his 70th birthday, almost precisely at the same age as our father died. My brother was born on Labor Day and died on Boxing Day. We will have to work on the significance of all that. Boxing Day is traditionally the day after Christmas when servants in English households receive a gift from their employer in a “box.” Of course, Labor Day honors those working and gives them an extra day of rest. I do know Jim loved Christmas. My brother also died on the day our church calendar commemorates Stephen, the first deacon and martyr. I don’t know about a martyr, but my brother was a survivor. He had open-heart surgery, three cancers, and at least three strokes.

cousins

I did something I had never done before shortly after my brother died. I prayed to hear what he would like us to know about him. This message immediately came to me that my brother said:” I tried to be a good man, and I loved my family.”

“I tried to be a good man and loved my family.” So that was my brother’s message. He dearly loved his family and was very proud of his three sons. He loved his community, serving faithfully as a banker, a Boys and Girls Club member, and on the school board. I know he especially loved his church, where he also served faithfully.

Since the Episcopal Church is something we share, we often discussed it. However, we had the privilege of serving together at an altar only once. That was at our mother’s funeral, when we both served as Eucharistic ministers, passing the chalice. 

My brother was an eight o’clock churchgoer. They are a different breed, a little more private, quieter, and sometimes more reserved. They get the rector’s ear after the service, since so few people are present that early. My brother loved serving on the vestry, another rare breed. If an eight o’clocker is a lector or Eucharistic minister, they serve more often than those at the later service, as my brother did. I tried to talk my brother into becoming a deacon, which I think could have happened if he had more time. The church is in our family’s genes. It comes in many forms, but we cannot escape it.

Seiberts at my brother’s service

My brother was a believer, and there is no doubt that he now lives in the resurrection, just as he experienced so many resurrections in this life.

So today, I am sharing some memories of my brother, my only sibling. I miss him daily, especially on the holidays.

When we were children, I remember how we would wake up in the early morning, too excited to sleep and lie together in bed, hoping by some miracle that our parents would wake up early. He so loved Christmas. I honor him by sharing Christmas stories about him and celebrating the holiday as he loved to do. He always brought joy to my life, and I hope to continue sharing that joy, especially at this time of the year. Sometimes, when our family shares stories, I hear his distinctive laugh caught up in others, and I give thanks for our life together with him in our family.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Gesu Bambino on Boxing Day

 Gesu Bambino on Boxing Day

“Upon a winter night,

Was born the Child, the Christmas Rose,

The King of Love and Light.

The angels sang, the shepherds sang,

The grateful earth rejoiced.” Frederick Martens, music by Pietro Yon (1917)

My younger brother and only sibling died in 2014 on the day after Christmas, Boxing Day, or the Feast Day of St. Stephen. I still miss him.

On a past Christmas Eve, as I prepare in the early morning to go to the eight o’clock service, I hear on our National Public Radio Station (NPR) a piano arrangement of Gesu Bambino. This is an Italian Christmas Carol with O Come All Ye Faithful for the chorus, with the music written by Pietro Yon and the lyrics by Frederick Martens. 

Suddenly, I feel my brother’s presence. My brother sang this solo at a Christmas program when he was ten or eleven in the basement of the Baptist church in our hometown, West Point, Virginia. He was taught Gesu by the minister’s son, Bobby Pleasants, an organist and my piano teacher. I wonder where he is now. I thank Bobby for the gift he gave me today by teaching my brother to sing this ethereal Christmas anthem so many years ago. I see and hear my young brother singing like a cherub in the candlelight, lifting his head and eyes as he strains for the high notes, singing with all his might.

This is a Christmas gift from my brother. He was physically powerful, while I now have numerous mobility issues. On that particular Christmas Eve, we had four services at St. Mark’s since this was a short Advent, with the fourth Sunday of Advent and Christmas Eve falling on the same day. I was concerned about whether I could physically serve as the deacon at all these services, which would attract almost a thousand people. However, that morning, I was empowered. I felt my brother’s strength beside me. I did not doubt that I could do this.

On this second day of Christmas, I pray that each of us is empowered by God’s love as manifested in those before us whom we love and love us so that we can do the ministry God calls us to do.

Love is born at Christmas. It is gifted to each of us. That love never dies.

Joanna     https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Where are We in the Christmas Story?

Where are We in the Christmas Story?

Guest Writer Eve Turek

One of the best and most creative ways I have ever heard to make Scripture fresh and relevant to your daily life is to imagine yourself as a character in a familiar story—the Christmas Story, for instance. Now, I don’t do this myself nearly as often as I should, but here are some thoughts for your contemplation. Who would you be in this story? Who do you most identify with today?

Would you be Mary? Challenged to believe something about yourself that seems literally impossible, so much so that you are risking your reputation, your future with your beloved, in fact, perhaps your very life, to say “yes” to this new role?

Or maybe you could be Joseph, steadfast, faithful, loyal. Steeped in tradition that dictates only one response, a response that has crashed into your love for your betrothed. So you plan to compromise, send her away quietly, saying yes completely neither to love nor to law…and then, you have a Dream. Now the choice is even harder. Go all in for love over law, and undertake the first of what will be several perilous journeys, to shelter, protect, and nourish what God is bringing forth into the world?

I kind of like the Shepherds. Watching over their sheep, sleeping under the stars, taking turns watching in the night. Sounds reasonably peaceful and bucolic. Yeah. I could do that. Oh, wait—what was that?!? What is that Sound?? What is that Light?? I am in an open field, I have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide… Angels? Holy Child? Go see and then go tell?? Notice the first impulse, the first response is terror. Honestly, that sounds like what my response would be, too. They found the courage to believe the improbable and follow through. Do I? Can I bear witness to what I believe I have seen and heard? How about you?

Or maybe you relate more to one of the Three Travelers. Some traditions name them Kings—wielders of both power and authority. Other traditions call them Wise Men, sages, mages, or even astrologers. We don’t know precisely how they met, but they each received the same sense of calling, to follow a star and bring gifts to a newborn Child-King. Notice their response, what it was, what it wasn’t. It wasn’t rejection, jealousy, guarding their own position, possessions, and power. It was humility and recognition that Someone Greater was coming on the scene.

And that brings us to a fourth king, Herod. He could have made the same choice as the Three Travelers. Instead, he chose the opposite path, of protecting his earthly dominion at any cost, including subterfuge, lies, and eventually, even mass murder. His own personal royal power mattered more to him than anything else. As a king, Herod stands in stark contrast to the Three who journeyed on to find and worship the Christ Child.

He is the one figure missing in every nativity scene. He couldn’t bring himself to believe and receive. He held on to what he thought he had, rather than risk, as all these others did, moving beyond what their lives had always been and embracing a new reality and a new identity for themselves and for the larger world.

For we are no longer estranged, but embraced, as Mary and Joseph.

No longer alone, but accompanied, as the Three Travelers.

No longer silenced and shunned, but seeking and sharing, as the Shepherds.

Who are you in the Story?

Eve Turek

Joanna Seibert joannaseibert.com