Many of us are afraid of death even when we say that we believe in the resurrection.  We try to avoid using the words "death," "died,” “dead,” or “dying” in order to protect ourselves from discomfort and from the weight of loss.  Instead, when someone dies, we use code words and phrases such as "they passed away," "they passed on," "they lost their battle," "they succumbed to their illness," "faithfully departed," "they were called home," "they didn’t make it," "they went to meet their maker,” and so on.  We convince ourselves that phrases such as these are more compassionate and easier for delivering bad news.  We have developed ways to distance ourselves from the discomfort, pain, and unpredictability of death and dying.  Even though death is part of life, many people are still uneasy talking about it, calling it what it is, and accepting it.  It is even more difficult when the one who died was someone we knew and loved, someone we couldn't imagine dying before us.

How are we expected to love someone or anyone and then watch them die or hear of their death from a distance without dying a little bit inside ourselves?  How are we expected to let go of a spouse, a child, or a friend whom we spent years loving and suffering alongside, only to see them slip away from our life?  How are we expected to move on and tend to other things as if it were that easy to put a timeframe on grief?  If I refuse to stop grieving and if I refuse to move on, would grieving too long disturb the dead?  If I refuse to believe that time heals all wounds, would grieving too long rob me of the life I'm still yet to live?  Believing the dead are still with us in spirit, believing in the resurrection, and knowing that death is not the end, but a new beginning, implies faith, trust, connection, relationship, love, and hope.  Would it mean I am faithless, hopeless, and loveless if I don't know or can't tell whether they are still with me or far from me or if I am still angry?

Those who have died have shed their physical body, a body that ages, hurts, breaks, and sometimes becomes a prison of illness.  Still, their souls are immortal and can only be reunited with God.  So, they are not lost or gone; they made it.  They live in a new form and a renewed spirit.  They are always with us in our memories, their legacy of deeds, their impact on the lives of others, and even those stories yet untold.  Those who have died live on in their family -- families they were born into, and families fostered over time in unexpected places.  Yes, they were called home; we are their home, the temples where God resides, and their souls are reunited with God in full communion.  Yes, they died, but only so they may live again closer to us than ever before.  Yes, they are no longer physically here, but when we remember how they laughed, when they cried, their scent, their hugs, their smile, their favorite meal, how they walked, and whom they loved, they show up in our minds as real as the last time we saw them.  We never stop loving them; we never stop feeling their presence.  Thank God for that grace and mercy.  They manifest in our memories to assure us of their profound peace and to share some of that peace with us.

Merciful God, give peace and rest to the dead and pardon them of any sins.  
To those living, give mercy, grace, and comfort as we tend to our aching hearts.  Amen