In an attempt to connect today’s worship with that of the saints of history, we confess the Apostles Creed. Within that wonderful catalog of praise is this confession: “I believe in…the communion of saints…”

This year, I have said goodbye to a best friend, a life-mentor of my profession, and a favorite student, three generations of those I loved. Sometimes life seems to be a series of such losses, one on the heels of the last, as names on our personal lists shift from one category to another. We say things like, “This year I lost my…” Like an empty chair at the table, there is a vacancy in our hearts, a hole no one else can fill. This vacancy must not be filled for to do so would be an injustice to the one who is missing. We should feel the loss of such a one forever and we do.

We also feel their presence. Somehow, they are gone from us but still with us. In Jewish culture, the departed dead are spoken of with the phrase, “of blessed memory” following their name. This is accurate for the departed ones remain with us in more than mere memories, but “blessed” memories, gifts from God. There are a thousand little things no one else sees or hears that fly to the heart and warm a cold day or cool a heated one.

• The mental imprint of a face, quickened by photographs, brings them momentarily back to our hearts.

• We hear in the words of others phrases unique to them.

• Life-lessons, learned in the classroom of our relationship, are confirmed in the day’s events.

• Perspectives shared from their minds help us unscramble the confusion of the world.

• We see their shape in the forms of strangers or family and it seems their shadows pass over us once again.

We don’t need to go to the cemetery for we know that the grave does not confine them; they abide in our hearts.

The ancient church called this mystery “the Communion of Saints.” We need not go so far as to pray to them to honor their continuing impact on our lives. The Bible speaks of a heavenly gallery where the faithful departed are gathered in the Throne Room of God. (Hebrews 12:1-2; 22-24) They rest in a place of revelation with all questions settled and all peace supplied; a place near the Throne of God. They are not omnipresent like the Lord Himself, but somehow when we go to that heavenly Zion in private prayer or public worship, as we draw near to Him, He draws near to us and they are nearer to us as well. They do not return to us in a physical or spiritual proximity, but in a state of “Blessed Memory.”

These moments of their nearness allow us a present communion, a sharing with those we loved here on earth and will meet again someday. We must embrace this communion with tears and laughter and with warmth to fill the hole they left behind.

Stephen Phifer, December 27, 2018