Drained but satisfied now.

I was asked to take the funeral of this twenty one year old who died in his bed. It was totally unexpected with some medical event causing it. His dad had done some contract work for one of my chaplaincies, that is why I got asked. I got the request the day before I had to take the funeral for my 97 year old childhood minister.  That along with other stresses had stressed me out to the max already, and I wondered how I would cope with this funeral.

On Saturday I went out to the family home and sat and talked with the family - mum, dad and two sisters.  They of course were very sad but talked fairly freely and openly about their son/brother and about how they wanted to celebrate his life. I came home quite drained because I had been listening (which involves watching intently) and concentrating. I found it hard to concentrate on preparing the service for Sunday with this funeral on Monday hanging over my head. I did however manage to type up the content of the newsletter and got a service constructed and on Sunday morning, delivered. On Sunday late afternoon/evening I set to composing the funeral service from notes I had scribbled over the last day or so. I had talked to the father on the phone and he also had suggested I peruse the tributes on line. On Monday morning I continued editing and revising the words again and again. I had to do some sort of sum-up eulogy and to my amazement somehow the way I should do it came to mind in a "penny drop" type experience. I prepared, but was still not sure they were the right words or the best way of doing things. The family were not religious and wanted to be honest about that, so the prayers were turned into affirmations. Through the wording I wanted to affirm life without resorting to religious cliches. It is a very worthwhile exercise to do, making you realise that ministers can be quite lazy resorting to well worn religious cliches.  

The thing that hit me was that I was so very nervous. (I have taken funerals for thirty nine years and I still get nervous with every one) On two nights I lost a lot of sleep thinking about how I would go. On Monday morning just after breakfast my wife cut my hair, and as I sat patiently in the chair I felt this knot in my stomach - six hours before the funeral.  Nearly thirty years ago I had taken the funeral of a seventeen year old girl killed as a pillion passenger in a motorbike accident. It had been hard, but I don't remember it being as hard as this one? I knew her and her family a bit better and I guess I was full of the confidence of youth. 

I conducted the funeral and there were of course gut wrenching moments during it as the family and friends shared their story and as they said their final farewells. There were heaps of young people there, and many were very upset. Perhaps their first encounter with death. I hardly knew any of the congregation. Afterward I stood around and guided people around the building. About four different people came up and commended me on the service. There were so many there that I did not get to talk with the family. I came home quite unsure about whether I had done a good job. I went for a walk in the dark to unwind. I found myself waking up at 3 a.m. still wondering whether I had done the right thing. 

Today I got a warm email from the family. Here is just a part of it....   "Thank you so much for conducting  _____’s service yesterday. It was just a wonderful celebration of his life.

 You set a great tone for the proceedings, and captured perfectly the essence of his personality."

I do not charge for a funeral. There are three reasons. (1.) The amount the funeral directors suggest they pay you for me anyway, is an insult to the work I do.  The minimum number of hours I put into each funeral would be eight hours. If you work out the hourly rate it would be quite small. (2.) It is always difficult to know who to charge and who not to charge. Somebody sees you as a friend?  There is a long serving Church member who has probably paid for his funeral hundreds of times with his offering? A poor family? It just seems easier not to charge anybody. (3) The Church pays me a living wage. I use Church time to prepare for and conduct the funeral, to me it would seem like double dipping to make extra money on the funeral.

To receive the letter above and to know that I really helped a family during one of the toughest moments of their life is the best reward I can get. I am very tired tonight but inside I am deeply satisfied and fulfilled.

A quick post...

The latest picture of our Christchurch grandson, Theo.

Arthur Templeton's funeral on Friday.
On Friday I led the funeral for a 97 year old retired minister who was my childhood minister.  For a 97 year old he had a very big funeral with perhaps 200 diverse people there. He often annoyed me in recent years because he could be pedantic and sometimes imnappropriate. But he had a big influence in who I am today. In the week before the funeral I had many memories. I recall him baptising me. I recall him bringing my mother home from the hospital after my father died, he looked as hurt as we did. He guided me helping a very nervous young teenager open his mouth in public. I recall him being sent by the elders to tell us off at the Youth Group for playing our records too loud and too long, the Church neighbours had complained. One other time he drew us Brown boys aside to tell us that the neighbours in our street had complained directly to him that we were working on our cars too late at night. I had such great feedback about the funeral, and I am still getting it. Members of my congregation said this morning, "We were so proud of you!" The funny thing is that I am not sure what I did that was right? 
Funeral for a young man
After Church this morning we went out for lunch and came home exhausted. I had a nap this afternoon and have been procrastinating, putting off doing the final preparation for the funeral I have to lead tomorrow. On the day that we were celebrating the first birthday of our grand daughter, this young man's mother discovered him dead in bed. I don't really know how you make the final farewells any easier. A funeral for a 97 year old who has accomplished a lot is a breeze, but for a young man at the beginning of his adult life it is so much more difficult. It is funny how so often I find myself indecisive and procrastinating when there is something really hard to do. I hope I can do no harm!

Not for the faint hearted...

In my last post I told you that I was stressed. It is a strange reality in Church ministry that you often cannot control your workload. I arrived at the office this morning and had about an hour and a quarter conversation with a very upset and distressed woman. I then had to make phone calls related to that and later received an email about the topic that demanded a reply. Issues continued to crop up throughout the day with the biggest one being a request to lead a funeral for a twenty one year old son of an acquaintance on Monday.  What on earth do you say to the grieving parents? I have had a newspaper reporter asking Night Shelter questions, a couple of long phone calls about night shelter issues and I am still working on tomorrow's funeral for my 97 year old childhood minister. Add to these there are also deadline things that are part of the usual preparation that needs to be done for Sunday's service. I will cope but I just don't know how to respond when my GP tells me "You work too hard, take life easier". How?  He has never been a minister.

Mid week report, goodbyes, stress and celebrations.

Edith - one year old today!

A goodbye...  On Monday morning I drove my beaten up Toyota Corolla to the auction place where they sell off written off cars. Even though the insurance payout is better than expected it is still sad to see the end of an essentially good car that I had hoped would last us a long time. 
No day off...   On Monday afternoon I drove out to spend time with the daughter of the man whose funeral I will take on Friday. In the evening I did some work toward helping her to plan the funeral. Monday is meant to be my day off and now it is midweek I am really feeling the lack of a day of rest. 
Night Shelter challenges...   I am chairman of the Dunedin Night Shelter Trust and we also run Phoenix Lodge which provides transitional housing for ex-prisoners.  Both places are always raising issues that get passed on to me to deal with. The numbers of people using the Night Shelter are increasing and the problems that these people bring with them are becoming more complex. K2 drug is causing issues in the house and the clientele seem to be more unsettled in general.  Funding for the shelter is never easy and sometimes I feel like throwing in the towel. I don't know how to tackle the issues, where to begin even on some of them. All of us on the Trust have busy lives so it is often not easy to make headway on problems.  But we have come a big distance from having no Dunedin shelter, and I guess we will continue to overcome the obstacles. It will always be an ongoing journey and problems will always be the nature of such work.
Stress...   I always get stressed about leading funerals and this one is no exception. It is so distracting having it hanging over my head to do. The Night Shelter issues stress me. Ongoing uncertainty about my prostate/bladder and not moving past the problem is a frustration. Realising that some of the good work we have been doing at the Church will in all probability come to an end makes me feel sad and a little guilty for planing to retire. There are also the accumulated stresses of frequent things happening in the last few months, even good things along with the bad.  (A son's wedding in January, a new baby in February, coping with a catheter, visitors, an operation and recovery period, followed by two further days in hospital, funerals and the car accident. etc.) I just notice that every day I sense a level of stress. I sometimes lie awake at night wondering how I am going to work my way through things and even feel a mild panic attack when I think of some problem I have not dealt to. 
Celebrations....   Today is our grand daughter Edith's first Birthday. My wife has travelled up to Auckland to celebrate with the family there. Tonight I talked via skype. The wee girl is growing and changing by the day. We of course celebrated our 44th wedding anniversary and mother's day. It is interesting that I keep hearing positive things about our ministry and church. People say, "Everyone knows that is the church that is open to the community!" "Oh that's the community minded church isn't it - it does such good work!" "You have put that Church on the map!" One of our guys was visiting a rest home and when a lady found out what church he attended she raved on about "David Brown" and "his generosity, and the great work he does through that Church." I don't think they know that it is not as much as they think. Neither do they know that this church is really quite fragile. But it is good to know there is a positive impact. My wife gets impatient. "If everyone who raves on about the wonderful work we do, came and joined us in that work it would be much easier!" 

A good question for every day.

"This is awesome!" - Another week done and another begins.

Arthur Templeton, my childhood minister in October last year.

Habitat for Humanity memories.
Twice this week I bumped into a guy we built a house with in the early days of Habitat for Humanity in Dunedin. It would be in the late 1990's. At the first meeting he introduced me to a young boy he said was a "foster son". He said, "The wife and I realised we had been given a lot in life so we decided we need to give a bit back."  In the second meeting later in the week he was with his wife and they both greeted me warmly.  We were at the insurance office and as they walked out arm in arm I could not help but think that the hours I put in working alongside this couple were probably well spent. I recall once he and I were together, stripped to the waist shoveling and moving a huge pile of dirt. We paused briefly when we had filled two more barrows to wipe the sweat off our brows. He, a big gruff blunt fellow, looked at me and said, "Are you really a bloody parson?"
Insurance payout...
Tomorrow we hand over our beaten up Toyota Corolla to the people who will dispose of it for the insurance company. We were quite pleased with the market value that they are to give us for the written off car. We knew when we bought it off the local Dominican Sisters that they were being generous with their price. Now we are to get a fair price off the insurance company, we really appreciate the sisters' generosity. We have not lost money on it. People are good.
This is awesome!
We had five fourth year social work university students come to our drop-in centre to help out on Friday night. It was a part of their study program. They helped prepare the food and also stayed and mixed and mingled during the evening. It was interesting watching their reaction to what we do. One guy just kept saying, "This is awesome what you do here!" He wants to bring some members from his church along to it. Another lady is keen to come back next week when we are going to be short staffed.  One other was brilliant, she spent the night quietly talking with people. She asked if it was alright by us if she came back again at other times. Maybe we will help inspire other drop-in centres.
Mixed feelings
While at the drop-in I was approached by one of the guys. "Are you really going to leave us at the end of the year?" he asked. "Yes that's the plan." I said. "What will happen?" he asked. "I don't know at this stage." I replied. In all probability, without us I suspect the drop-in centre will close. That will be sad, and I wish it could be different. I do know that in 32 Sundays I need to be finishing ministry. But there are parts of what we do that I will miss and feel sad about.
Guest preacher
The inner city ministers are arranging an ecumenical service at Knox Church on the evening of May 26th, Trinity Sunday. Because I have been in Dunedin for so long and am finishing at the end of the year, I am to be preacher for that service. It looks like it could be quite a service with various choirs, singing groups and congregations taking part. What do I want to say to inner-city Christians in Dunedin? It has been a tad distracting with my mind wandering to an evolving sermon for that special night. One thing is for certain my style of sermon will probably be different than what they are used to at Knox Church. 
Another funeral to prepare for.
I learned yesterday that a man in my congregation aged 97 had died over night. He was minister at our church when we were growing up. (North East Valley Church of Christ) While he and I were very different, and to be honest he often annoyed me, I recognise I owe a tremendous amount to him. He stayed ministering in Churches until he was 85 years old! He kept learning and thinking theologically right throughout his life.  He had a passion for preaching and communicated to me a love for the gospels and the nature of Jesus. Somehow through his preaching, Jesus made sense to me. He baptised me; he taught me how to read the scriptures in a church service; he gave me a starter prayer I could use when I had to pray in public during communion services; and he gave me hints when I graduated to presiding at Church services in my late teens. At the same time there were parts of his style of ministry that I did not appreciate and in a way that prompted in me a determination to rethink the things I do.  He was also the mysterious person who nominated me (gathering together information and references) to the government ministers to receive the Member of the New Zealand Order of Merit medal in 2002. A big part of the week ahead will be taken up preparing for and leading his funeral service.  Wish me luck. 
Forty four years of marriage
Friday was our 44th Wedding Anniversary. I find it hard to believe that we have been married that long! I joked with my wife that 44 years ago we were "doing it" four times on our wedding night. "Come on" I said, "We've got a few to go!" She just laughed... Days of "doing it" four times in a night are long gone, but I am glad we're still doing it. I think the unity of purpose, "two people living for the same purpose bigger than themselves" has enabled us to stick together reasonably happily. So far it has been an interesting, adventurous journey. 

Me (20yrs old) waiting in the vestry looking shocked before our wedding ceremony. 

Wasting Human lives . ... special connections.

Why do we do it?
#1. On Monday my wife and I had to go out to South Dunedin. We went down one street and we saw a young woman who comes to our drop-in centre. She was stomping along the road with an angry expression on her face scratching her behind. When she comes to our drop-in centre she is just obnoxious, demanding and a "loser/user".  She sometimes stinks. She is not the brightest kid on the block, but she does have enough up top to be different. She is aggressive in her contacts, is either angry or stupidly giggly and disruptive. Emotionally, personality wise she is a mess! How did she get like this? After seeing her our conversation went on to list off other people whose whole demeanor and lifestyle is chaos.  One man we know is having a protective order served against him for acting stupidly toward a woman who was his girlfriend.  He has had court trouble before for inappropriate actions toward a woman. I took him down to the court to sort out the procedure. He (a 58 year old) is basically illiterate so needed my support. He often acts as an arrogant know it all!  I went to quite some trouble but it seemed to be something he just expected me to do, I received no "thank you" at all. His family life as a kid, particularly from his dad, was diabolical. We know heaps and heaps of these sorts of dysfunctional lives.  What the hell are we doing wrong as a society to produce them? Is it parenting? Is it schooling? Is it family dynamics? Is it just purposeless living by generations of people producing another dysfunctional generation? However it happens here are human lives vandalised, wrecked and poisoned by .... whatever! We ought to be doing better. We ought to be asking ourselves some hard questions about our lifestyle, our society and our values. What ought to be beautiful lives turned to shit. It is deeply sad.
#2. On Tuesday morning I was still groggy when our phone rang. A man told me that a young man  who had imbibed in K2 had been uncooperative, aggressive and abusive. He told me that he had called the police and I think he was quite shaken up by the whole event. How can dairy owners in good conscience sell this stuff? I hear of so many lives wrecked by it.  Lives are completely stuffed up. Like wise with the use of marijuana. I am sure that a lot of the mental health patients aimlessly wandering the streets, unemployed and bludging from drop-in centres or any other easy touch have had conditions worsened by this stuff.. They may have had troubles but I am sure their issues are made exacerbated by their drug taking. Why do we imbibe in such destructive behaviour?
#3. I was talking to a person who is part of a friendship/support group. There is a split in the group and it seems it is caused by power hungry people wanting to be the centre of attention. It is so sad, what was once a positive, useful friendly group is ruined by the attitudes of a few! I could list off untold Churches, charitable groups and other community groups ruined, limited or distorted by such battles and attitudes. Why do we do it?
Eleven "Hello's"
I ventured away from the Church twice today. I went about a block to talk with the local Volunteer Centre. On the way there I bumped into a man I knew and needed to speak with. We talked doing the necessary business but also enjoying each other's company.  Before I got back to the Church I encountered two more people I knew well. After spending three hours talking with people at Space2B I went to visit a firefighter at the hospital about two blocks away. In my walk to the hospital and back I encountered eight people I knew in various capacities. A retired fire fighter, some people I knew through our drop-in centre, the local street sweeper who lunches in our Space2B and even one young woman who greeted me warmly by name as if we were old friends, but I still haven't a clue what part of life she fits in.  I could not help but smile as I reflected on the number and warmth of these encounters. I figured that sometimes I must be doing something right.

Another week of interest.

Sunset on my Mount Cargill

I would love to know what forces make this mist creep over the hills like this. 

Love these bright little flowers beside the track.

Hospital visit disappointment

On Thursday I was to spend the day in hospital for a TROC – trial removal of my catheter. I went in hoping to come out with a “normally” working plumbing system. Short story is that I failed their tests.  Because I retain too much I still need catheterisation.  They instituted a different system of regular self-catheterisation. (don’t ask - it is not much fun!) Anyway it does mean that I am “normal”, don’t have to wear an embarrassing catheter nor connect to tubes and bag at night. I may have to have this for the rest of my life, but they are hoping for improvement.  It is disappointing; it feels like the operation was a waste of time and energy.  While sitting in the bed for the day I read another book so my time was not wasted.

I came out of the toilet to see Mark a local Catholic Priest who does some time as a hospital chaplain visiting the patient next to me. I have known Mark for about 25 years and admire his energy, his compassion and his quiet spirituality.  When he left his friend he saw me in bed and came over and we chatted warmly. “Would you like a blessing?” he asked. “Yes” I replied, well I could hardly say “no”.  So Mark got out his oil and prayed for me while tracing on my palms and on my forehead the sign of the cross with the oil. It was a “blessing”, somehow humbling and warming to receive this ministry from my colleague in ministry.

These days I have more proactively adopted a philosophy of trying my best in any situation to enhance life about me.  During my recent visits to hospital I asked myself, “What can I do in this situation to enhance life?” I purposely went about trying to make sensitive encouraging connections with the patients in my room and to express appreciation to the nurses and doctors for their care. Disappointment at the results meant I had to use more will power to continue to be positive. I found it helped me not to wallow in my predicament. On this visit as I left the ward and went into the lift I saw a man wearing the jacket of a rural volunteer fire fighter. I asked him what brigade he served in. He told me and I happened to know his chief very well.  As we descended to the ground floor I told him I was chaplain to the fire service in Dunedin.  In the foyer of the hospital the conversation moved on to him telling me about the friend he had been visiting who had terminal cancer and his feelings and experiences of his visit that day. He seemed to have a need to talk and I had a need to listen.  I still don’t know his name but it certainly made my wallowing in disappointment disappear.

“We have a photo of you…”

On Saturday a lovely Indian couple we have held a belated “house warming” party celebrating their purchase of a house.  It was held in the Church and we helped them set up and I led in a blessing.  There was a crowd of friends there most of them Indian families. Indian women are so beautiful and their men seem to look like perpetual teenagers. An Indian family arrived and the father seemed keen to talk with me. “I know you” he said, “We have a photo of you holding my son when he was two months old.”  The son, now fifteen stood there as tall as I am grinning. “How? When? Where?” I asked. He then told me that fifteen years ago they had come to New Zealand and had just arrived in Dunedin. He said that finances were low and they heard of our Christmas Day dinner so registered and came. I had arranged their transport and during the day had spent time chatting to them and at some stage held their baby.  It was a warm experience.  After stewing on it for some time my memory banks filled in the gaps.

“Man’s search for ultimate meaning.”

I have been reading this book by Viktor Frankl, the Psychiatrist who came up with “Logotherapy”. Logotherapy claims that humans have a “will to meaning.”  It says that in any given situation in life we need to see meaning and if that search is frustrated we suffer. Frankl himself was a survivor of Auschwitz and I find his theories ring bells with me. I believe we have a whole heap of problems as a society because people do not find meaning in life (Living in an “existential vacuum”).  The Bible says, “Without a vision the people perish.”  In a nutshell that is Viktor Frankl’s message. I want to just share a few disjointed quotes from this book.

“I for one think that if morals are to survive they will have to be ontologized. Ontologized morals, however, will no longer define what is good and what is bad in terms of what one should do and what one must not do. What is good will be defined as that which fosters the meaning fulfilment of being. And what is bad will be defined as that which hinders this meaning fulfilment.” (I see “ontologized” as “seen as part of the essence of life”.)

“Logotherapy is, as it were, trifocal. It focuses on three fundamental facts of human existence: a will to meaning, a meaning in suffering, and a freedom of will. As to the last, man’s freedom of choice concerns the freedom to choose not only one’s own way of living, but even one’s own attitude of dying.”

Frankl was speaking to a group of tough criminals in prison. A prisoner interrupted saying, “Dr Frankl, would you be kind enough to say a few words through the mike to Aaron Mitchell, who is expected to die in the gas chamber in a couple of days?” Here is some of what he said to this prisoner on death row.  “Mr Mitchell, believe me, I understand your situation. I myself had to live for some time in the shadow of a gas chamber. But also believe me that even then I did not give up my conviction of the unconditional meaningfulness of life, because either life has meaning - and then it retains this meaning even if the life is short lived – or life has no meaning – and then adding ever more years just perpetuates this meaninglessness. And believe me, even a life that has been meaningless all along, that is, a life that has wasted, may – even in the last moment – still be bestowed with meaning by the very way we tackle this situation.”

“..in fact, each life situation confronting us places a demand on us, presents a question to us – a question to which we have to answer by doing something about the given situation.”

“…. three avenues lead to meaning fulfilment: First, doing a deed or creating a work; second, experiencing something or encountering someone; in other words, meaning can be found not only in work but also love.  Most important, however, is the third avenue: Facing a fate we cannot change, we are called upon to make the best of it by rising above ourselves and growing beyond ourselves, in a word, by changing ourselves.”

“I would like to offer you a peculiar definition of God at which, I confess, I arrived at the age of 15 years. It is in a sense an operational definition. It reads as follows:  God is the partner of our most intimate soliloquies. That is to say, whenever you are talking to yourself in utmost sincerity and ultimate solitude – he to whom you are addressing yourself may justifiably be called God.”

While there are parts of the book you need a psychiatry degree to fully understand I enjoy his approach to life and therapy. It calls people to broaden their thinking, to transcend selfishness and thus find a more peaceful and powerful life.