Where the Bodies Are Hidden

This is a two-part post about both the sacred and the profane. It’s about our personal calling and our corporate calling.

Yesterday, when I finished Say Nothing (again) about the conflicts in Northern Ireland, I was reminded what happened to the body of Jean McConville. For many years, her children suffered the horror of not knowing.

It occurs to me today that not knowing what happened to our loved ones must be one of the most traumatic griefs imaginable and yet there are countless people on the earth right now – and throughout history – that have gone to their grave not knowing.

This is our corporate calling:

• To tend to the grievers and especially to those who grieve without answers. It is surely horrible not to know what happened to those we’ve lost.
• To refrain from looking away from those who grieve. In every nation on every continent from those kidnapped and murdered by Hamas on October 7, 2023 to those disenfranchised and murdered by Israel since, we must do what we can do to alleviate violence. Address injustice where we are able. Comfort the sorrowful at every opportunity. Vote for peace.

As I return to my own vocation after my first adventure with Covid last week, I’m reminded daily of choices that congregations and those serving congregations make that result in difficult but avoidable situations.

This is our personal calling:

• To tell the truth about ourselves. It’s healthy to tell a search committee or a board of elders or a supervisor the truth about ourselves: that we are not gifted in administration, that we don’t love ministry with youth, that we are extroverts only for Jesus which means we need our Sabbath time.
• To tell the truth about our congregations. My favorite question for a candidate to ask a search committee is, “What are the skeletons in your church closet?” In other words where are the bodies hidden and why? My favorite comments made about our own congregations include these: “We say we want to grow, but honestly we don’t.” “We know we exist only for ourselves, but we are too tired to care about anything else.” I would rather we express the truth than waste everybody’s time making unnecessary efforts.

These two topics make seem totally incongruous and they are, to a point. But here’s the touchpoint:

We can be a different Church – a Church that offers presence to those in pain in ways we are not already offering. Who are the broken people we are called to serve? The world’s pain and trauma are overwhelming and it’s no wonder that so many of us tune it out/stop watching the news. But Jesus never looked away from pain.

Rejoicing today for those moments when we learn the truth.

And speaking of learning the truth:

Image used with permission by my PCUSA colleague Becky D’Angelo-Veitch. This was her great-uncle’s gravestone for 80 years before it was identified as her grandmother’s brother, PFC Bartholomew Loschiavo who died in WWII. Some bodies are known only to God, but what a blessing when we get answers.