Searching for Grace

 SEARCHING FOR GRACE

Rev. Kit Ketcham, PUUF, Sept. 25, 2022

 

         As I’ve met with the four coffee klatch groups this past month, I’ve noted the heavy, heavy load that accompanies trauma, hearing about trauma in others, and dreading the impact of the next traumatic moment.

         At our Water Ceremony on Sept. 11, we had asked each participant to name a trauma that, for them, had been life-changing, unexpected, and shocking.  When Meredith and I read the cards at the end of the ceremony, we were both in awe of the heavy load each person there was bearing. 

         Not just in their own lives but also in the awareness of the load their friends and neighbors were experiencing.  Right now, we are all living with trauma and the effects of trauma, in a sort of churning stew of tension and uncertainty.

         But I’m reminded of the kids’ TV show long ago “Mr. Rogers Neighborhood”.  Fred Rogers was a guiding light for kids and their parents in the 70’s and 80’s with his show.  And one story he told has stuck with me.

         It was a personal story for him, for when he was a little boy, worried about a scary incident that he had observed and wondering what would happen, his mother took him in her arms and said “When you see something scary like this and you are worried and afraid, to comfort yourself, look for the helpers.  Look for the people who are stepping in to help.”  

Not just the firefighters and the police and doctors and nurses, but the ordinary people, the ones who run first to the emergency or trouble, offering their help.  Mr. Rogers made that his life’s work.

         I was reminded about Mr. Rogers’ childhood question on a recent weekend when I learned that a Gearhart friend of mine had been found dead in her home.  She and I were members of a group we called Freddy Girls and we met on Monday mornings at the Fred Meyer Starbucks to gab and gossip about Gearhart goings-on, a practice we’ve had for several years.

         These women were helpful to me when I was going through the scary situations of retinal surgeries and heart rhythm irregularities a few years ago, driving me up to St. Vincent and OHSU for treatments.

         As I learned more about this sudden, shocking death of my friend, I found that two of the women in our little group had worried about this friend on Friday when they saw that things didn’t look right at her home and decided to check on her.

         They found our friend seated on a chair inside the sun porch, her head resting on her arm against a small table.  She was clearly dead and had been for several hours.

         Our friend’s husband has Parkinson’s and Alzheimer’s, so they immediately checked on him in the next room, found him naked, incontinent, and incoherent.  They called 911 for help and then washed the husband, clothed him, gave him something to eat and water to drink, as they awaited the ambulance.  They called the son and daughter of this couple who live in Stevenson, to break the news and ask them to come.  And then they sat with our friend until help arrived.

         I tell you this story not to stun you with another story of trauma, because this story is about the two women who were the helpers, who did what needed to be done in a terrible situation, for a friend at the end of her life.

         I know trauma stories are awful and triggering for many of us.  We hate to hear them sometimes but if we listen to the “rest of the story” as newscaster Paul Harvey used to say, we often find that there is hope and grace in the aftermath.

         Last Saturday when I visited the tiny Tillamook county coffee klatch, each person had experienced something difficult during the past month.  They also wanted to know about the Water Ceremony, how it had gone, and when I mentioned our closing hymn, Amazing Grace, one woman looked at me with tears in her eyes and said “It’s the grace, the unearned, unbidden acts of kindness and love that help me to get through trauma.” And she told us of her personal experience with grace.

         Last week, two unscrupulous American governors hoodwinked a planeload of migrants and flew them to Martha’s Vineyard in the Atlantic Ocean, expecting that “this would own the libs”, when they arrived, poor and hungry, in the wealthy community of both ordinary people and celebrities.

         Instead of rejecting the migrant families, Martha’s Vineyard opened their hearts to these strangers, fed them, found them shelter, clothing, welcomed them into their midst, and helped them acclimate as best they could.  With limited language skills and unfamiliar with New England customs, these homeless people found grace, mercy, and kindness, not angry rejection.

         By the way, the Unitarian Universalists in our sister church on Martha’s Vineyard were right in the middle of the welcome.  Because that’s what UU’s do.  It’s our mission in life.

         I got to thinking about ministry and pastoral care and realized that my work as a minister is helping people who are experiencing trauma.  It is my work, it is my calling.  I listen and love and understand how hard it is.

         I know personally how hard it is to hear about trauma, whether in others’ lives or mine.  I know how hard, indeed impossible at times, it is to NOT be triggered.  But it is a learned skill and many of us have learned it, having experienced that moment of grace in our lives when somebody really listened, listened without jumping in at the wrong time or with the wrong words.  

Or they volunteered to drive us when we could not get to the doctor ourselves.  And they stayed with us to help us understand the doctor’s instructions.

         The helpers are all around us during every traumatic situation.  Sometimes we are the helpers, sometimes we are being helped.  It is all grace, grace given and grace received, and Grace is our Super Power---as UUs, as human beings whether we are religious or not, as people who understand that kindness and mercy and just being willing to help might be the real trinity!

         I know that many of you have experienced both the trauma and the moment of grace that often accompanies trauma, whether it comes unexpectedly from friends or family who appear and hug us and feed us and clothe us at a terrible time of our lives.

         It’s been a hard month at the coffee klatches, I know, and I’m glad to be able to refocus our gaze at the times when someone came to help us pick up the pieces of our lives and move on.

         At the South County coffee klatch yesterday, munching away on the goodies folks brought, we shared stories of trauma and the healing grace that often comes unexpectedly and without expectation of reward.  This has been a tough month in many ways but it’s time to focus on our SuperPower, the ability to help, to bring hope, to listen without interruption and to soothe and strengthen our fellow human beings.

         I’d like to spend a little time discussing what we’ve learned this month, in the coffee klatches or in our personal lives.  (Discussion for about 15 minutes)

 

BENEDICTION:  

Our worship service, our time of shaping worth together, is ended, but our service to the world begins again as we leave this place.  Let us go in peace, remembering that we have the power as individuals and as a congregation to bring Grace to those in time of need.  May we watch for opportunities to use our SuperPowers in the service of love and justice.  Amen, Shalom, Salaam, and Blessed Be.

 

CLOSING CIRCLE.