EDITOR'S NOTE: In October 2021 I began a new venture writing a newspaper column titled "Finding Faith" for the Forum Communications Co. network of newspapers and websites. I was asked to contribute to the company's ongoing conversation about faith, lending a Lutheran and fairly ecumenical approach to the discussion. The column was published in several of the company's papers and websites, including The Forum of Fargo-Moorhead. This column originally appeared as a "Finding Faith" column on Sept. 8, 2023.
By The Rev. Devlyn Brooks
“You have fixed all the bounds of the earth; you made summer and winter.” (Psalm 74:17)
As I write, I am staring at a mature elm tree in our front yard, which happens each year to be our harbinger of fall. For the 10 years we’ve lived here, this tree has always been the first to reveal a blush of the yellowing leaves of autumn.
Fall, if not already here, is on the doorstep.
After all, God made summer and winter … and fall. It is part of God’s brilliant creation, this magnificent earth that pulses with symmetry.
Our family is also in a new season. Now that we have laid Mom to rest, my remaining six siblings and I now are charged with carrying on the family legacy. And just as some mourn the loss of summer with fall’s onset, we now mourn the loss of the long season Mom was at the head of our family.
I’ve had time to reflect on this in the days since the funeral. It seems too easy of a way out to just say that mom’s passing is just part of God’s grand design, a well-intentioned cliche many faithful use to comfort others. … I imagine I’ve used the same words to grieving families in my own pastoral practice.
But today I am not as comforted by such a plan, as I am comforted by a line in our oft-stated Apostle’s Creed: “I believe … in the communion of saints.”
We teach that when our beloved faithful die and enter God’s glorious kingdom, there is a communion among all of the saints, those past (our ancestors), those present (our recently deceased) and those to come (those who are living).
So I can’t tell you what part of God’s infinite cosmic plan our mother’s death has played. Nor do I particularly look to understand it. Maybe one day I will.
But, meanwhile, what does comfort me in the tender days following her burial, is the fact that we know that our saints, the faithful loved ones who pass before us, still commune with us. They are never fully taken from us, and if we lean into our faith, I know that we will hear them. I know that our family will hear our mother.
Yes, it is a new season for us, and for a while it may feel like autumn when all of the color drains out of the world, and creation aims for a fresh reset. But, I do know for certain that spring will come for our family, and we’ll once again hear the beautiful words, guidance and encouragement from our mother, a beloved saint with whom we can commune. Because our creator promises us so.
Now that is comfort. Amen.
Devlyn Brooks is an ordained pastor in the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, and serves Faith Lutheran Church in Wolverton, Minn. He also works for Forum Communications Co. He can be reached at devlynbrooks@gmail.com for comments and story ideas.