Beloved of God,
The voice on the other end of the phone sounded familiar. “Pastor Erik, this is Kevin. Do you remember me?” I did remember a young man named Kevin who I’d met some months before. He’d come to Seattle from Paulau with his young family and everything had unraveled. All he wanted to do was get back home.
“Are you Kevin from Paulau?” I asked. “No, I’m from Saipan. This is Regina’s son.” Finally it clicked. I’d met Regina a few years before. She was a woman of few words but great dignity. A mother who had raised eight children on her own. Kevin was her second youngest son.
Kevin was calling from the Spruce Motel in Tukwila to see if there was any way I could help cover the cost of their family room for another night. There was emotion in his voice. He hated to be in the position of asking for help, but now that he was, he was committed to succeed. I told him we would be able to help this time, and with a great deal of relief in his voice, he thanked me.
A month later, March 17th, I got another call. This time it was Regina. Her words were clipped, her voice weary. “Pastor Erik, did you watch the news last night? My son Kevin is dead. He was shot yesterday morning outside our room. Pastor Erik, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
When I arrived at the motel, police tape still marked off the area where the shooting had taken place. Regina had moved to another room and was waiting for me with her daughter in law and other women from her community. I heard the story and offered to help in any way I could. Over the next week I became deeply involved with the arrangements for Kevin’s burial and ended up serving as the officiant at his funeral on March 24th. As of this writing, Kevin’s killer is still at large.
I can’t wait for Easter.
Death has been stalking close this Lenten season. Susan, the younger daughter of Esther Seccombe, has lost her battle with cancer. A dear Peace elder, Bernice Williams, whose health had deteriorated markedly in recent months, fell ill with pneumonia and died. And this week we learned from Don Hillier of his decision to no longer seek aggressive treatment of his cancer condition but to shift instead toward hospice care.
During this run up to Easter I am more aware than ever of the deep life questions that are being lived out and reflected in the lives of people who I have come to know and care about deeply. Does the Christian faith tradition we practice equip us to grapple with these fundamental issues of life and death? The answer, unmistakably, is YES.
We need a Savior who has experienced the deep tragedies and terrors of life. One who can stare death in the eye and not shrink from its demands. Only a Savior who knows the suffering of the world and enters completely into that experience with his own self can save us. Yet, the way of this Savior, the way of our God, is that we are not saved from death; we are saved through death. First, death; then, and only then, comes resurrection. This is the order.
When we understand this, then we understand that only a Suffering Servant will do, one who reaches out to all who dwell in the valley of the shadow of death and declares – Do not be afraid. I am with you. At the end of this tunnel, there is light. I will not leave you orphaned. I am with you, even to the end of the age.
Alleluia!
Pastor Erik
To read an article about the Camacho family published in the Seattle PI, and to learn how you can help, go to: http://www.seattlepi.com/local/404271_tukwila26ww.html
What does this mean?