Sunday School

Last night temperatures were low and snow fell again upon the city of Pittsburgh. On these nights our downtown church offers shelter to the homeless. As a result, this morning as we joined the adult Sunday school class, we saw a few new faces in the social hall as we passed through.

As we joined the class and were introduced to the topic--Facing Death Faithfully, a couple of men joined us carefully setting their tattered backpacks to the side. One man pulled a worn Bible from his and set it gently on the table.

Introductions were made amongst the diverse little group. As we were prompted to read the Psalm 139 together "popcorn" style (reading for as long as one desires and jumping in as needed), the younger man finished the selection. He was a kid who openly admitted he had very little background--he was just here because he spent the night. He hadn't read from the Bible before, but he was good-natured about it, as he willingly jumped in. His voice was strong, thoughtful, and slow as the emotion emerged through his voice as he absorbed the meaning of the words as he read. As I followed along the power of the words was enhanced for me as I read it through his eyes. I paused and reflected more deeply as I was drawn into his emotion.

As he finished the selection and the discussion prompted us to explore our own wishes for our final days, it was fascinating to listen to the different perspectives. The man with the worn Bible was incredibly well read and insightful as he referenced verses that reflected his thoughts. He exuded an inner peace.

The spirit of Christ filled that little room this morning. I can feel the presence in my heart still. The retired ministers...members of the congregation...the homeless...my husband...all made me reflect from the heart. From many different places in life, we joined in an intimate conversation about a journey we will all take...death, with our only point of reference our personal experience with death thus far in our journey.

Images of the worn Bible carried by a man whose mother was a faithful Methodist though he was Catholic, a young man who had never opened a Bible, a minister whose face was lined with wisdom, compassion, and laugh lines who had spent a lifetime studying the Bible, and the tenderness in the face of a mother-to-be will reside forever in my heart of our humble gathering.