October 24, 2010
Poured Out for Others
- 2 Timothy 4:6-8
- Dr. Teri Thomas
We currently have 7 members of our congregation in hospice care. Hospice is specialized care for the dying and those who love them. The focus of treatment is on comfort and quality of life, rather than cure. The goal is to enable patients to be comfortable and free of pain, so that they live each day as fully as possible. The philosophy of hospice is to provide support for the patient's emotional, social, and spiritual needs as well as medical symptoms as part of treating the whole person.
I love visiting folks in hospice and when it is time, if I have a choice, I will die in hospice care. I think it is great. There is an honesty and integrity about it. Everyone acknowledges that the patient is going to die and that gives the patient and the family a chance to prepare for death. You can talk about hopes and fears, wants and desires, accomplishments and unfulfilled dreams. When you know death is near and you know you cannot stop it- you have a freedom to talk about what really matters.
Tradition says that Paul was in the equivalent of hospice when he wrote this morning’s words to Timothy. Paul was in prison and would soon be executed for his faith. He knew he was going to die.
There is a calm surrender in his words- I have run the race, I have fought the fight, I have been poured out as a libation. It is not a sense of hopelessness- but rather is a surrender to hope- one which dares to believe that ultimately there is God and one need not fear. Not everything has to be sorted out. We cannot and need not try to control the world- we do not have to fix everything - and we cannot. It is OK to say we have run our race. It is something about acknowledging our human limitations - even about forgiveness. It is certainly about grace. Heading to the end of a marathon, exhausted, or at least reaching the end of his ministry, this Paul has a sense of peace. The words inspire a kind of letting go.
Preparing for death is never easy. An interesting psychological drama usually attends these final departures.
The heartland Film Festival just concluded here in Indy last night. I didn’t get to see nearly as many films as I would have likes but I did see some- and the theme that many of them seemed to share was death and dying.
In several movies there was a character who knew he was going to die soon. The focus of his final days- in each case was trying to fulfill his last wishes and determine how he would be remembered. In two different movies young boys wanted to set world records so they would be remembered as having done something significant in their short lives. In another film a young boy gave up the possibility of lengthening his life in order to establish a friendship and do something helpful for another person.
The movies all seemed very real to me because the issues and the questions and the struggles were all the same ones I experience with patients in hospice. There are questions about death- but more often than that there are questions about life. What did I accomplish? Can I be forgiven for the mistakes I made? What will my grandchildren remember about me? Did I tell the people I love how much I love them? Did I show them? Do they believe it? If I had a chance what would I change? What do I regret doing in my life? What do I regret never doing? What was my purpose? Did I accomplish it?
Paul’s reflection in this morning’s reading gives us some insight into how he is preparing for the end of his life. He has a sense of satisfaction that he managed to stay on course. He knows that it was God’s power in him that made that possible. But he found a peace that comes from simply pouring oneself out. He was a libation.
The key word is "libation." The libation was the drink offering, an offering of wine poured over the sacrifice on the altar. The wine has two effects, one theological and one physical. The theological effect is a generous and joyous offering, outpouring, to God. The physical effect is that the wine hits the flame and "poof" -- bigger flame, lots of smoke, and the aroma spreads everywhere. There is nothing of resignation in the drink offering at all, but rather of joyous abandon.
A wonderful way to live and also to end life. Let it flow.
Paul remembers what God did for him and what he was able to do for others because of that.
It is common for us to think of these things as we approach the end of life. In our leave-taking we "sum up" or try ultimately to make sense of the life we are given. It is a very human process not simply to put one's physical affairs in order, such as providing for loved-ones and paying debts, but to put one's psychological affairs in order. We need the sense that there is some kind of explanation for life, for our life. What flowed out from us and where did it end up? Who has been touched by the libations of our lives?
There is a story of a priest in a small Italian village. One day as he was preparing for services he went to draw some wine from the barrel so he could celebrate the sacrament. Much to his dismay, the barrel was empty. So he ran next door to a parishioner’s home and asked her to spread the word that the church was out of wine. By the time he returned to the church folks were already lined up outside with bottles, jugs, pitchers, and buckets. They went into the church one at a time and poured their containers into the barrel. It seemed as if the entire village responded to his plea and the priest was thrilled that they could celebrate the presence of Christ that evening.
When the time for worship arrived the priest donned his robe, gathered his prayers, and he went into the sacristy to draw some wine from the now full barrel. He turned the spigot and out poured pure, clear water.
Each villager simply assumed their water would blend in with everyone else’s wine and no one would know the difference.
You are a libation- a serving of wine poured out to honor God.
The Lord stands by you to give you strength
so that through you the message might be proclaimed
and the world might hear it.
May we find that peace that comes in the end
from simply having been poured out.
Amen.