Dancing the Pain Away:
Mourning the Death of Nelson Mandela
Introduction to the Tree of Remembrance spiritual message, December 8, 2013The Rev. Dr. Martha M. Smith
Today I want to invite you to take this time we have together to remember and celebrate the memories of all of the loved ones we have lost both in this past year, in recent years, and those who died years and years ago. My parents have been gone now for over twenty years but at this time of the year I think about them making the fancy pink and green candy we called "divinity" and the nutty, brown sugar bars we called "chewies." Most of the chewies were mailed to friends far away, so I never got to eat enough of those. I have so many good memories of them, and the older I get the more I realize how much my life stands on the foundations they built.
So many of our memories in our families focus on food, so I suppose it's very proper that we celebrate with lots of goodies today. Food means love, and at feast times we are knit together with our food traditions. So I bet we have on our table today many of your favorites, at least I hope some of my favorites are there. So let me add my thanks to those who have provided such a spread. Now I'm one of those people who prefer cornbread dressing, but I have come to love some of the stuffings and filling from this part of the world. But we can talk about that later. For now, let me share a few thoughts.
We've seen a very different style of grief expression this week with the death of Nelson Mandela.
The pictures and videos say it best: Singing and dancing in South Africa mark the memorial expressions to Nelson Mandela. While his political impact was great, his personal courage and his leadership toward reconciliation of his country has left an even more enduring legacy. In the face of opposition, he was able to mix patience and forceful action.
The larger than life icon who emerged from prison after twenty seven years went on to become President of South Africa and making real the end of the formal divisions between the races. Mandela and his followers, very much like Gandhi in India, defied those who would have made him a king and left the Presidency, like our own George Washington, after his term ended. He was able to lead and then able to walk away from the trappings of formal power, trusting that others could carry on what he had started.
The larger than life icon who emerged from prison after twenty seven years went on to become President of South Africa and making real the end of the formal divisions between the races. Mandela and his followers, very much like Gandhi in India, defied those who would have made him a king and left the Presidency, like our own George Washington, after his term ended. He was able to lead and then able to walk away from the trappings of formal power, trusting that others could carry on what he had started.
Those of us old enough to remember the world before the campaign against apartheid may be able to grasp the significance of the change that came about in South Africa. But the impact went far beyond.
For me this week, I was most captivated by the joyful spirit of celebration that arose out of the cries and tears. Watching the news coverage around the home where Mandela had died just hours before, I was startled by the show of deep emotion. Women and men and even little children were wailing and weeping and then would break into the songs of liberation. For the last several days the sadness of grief has been mixed with the joyful sounds of triumph --for a life and for a death that places Mandela among the ancestors. Much of the world, I've learned, find our quiet and somber funeral customs to be very strange. Those of us who have spent time with loved ones who are dying, when they died, and after the death and through the grieving rituals know how hard it is for many people to deal with these times.
When we exercise our grief muscles and our capacity for deep mourning, we are able to make a transition in our minds, in our bodies, and throughout the everyday reality of our lives to a reinvigorated level of living. Now all of this is not a smooth and easy process, but the effort is worth it. So may I wish for you a time this season to share your memories and find ways to celebrate in joy and hope.
Finally, here is a poem that sustained Mandela during his twenty seven years and beyond. What songs, poems, movies, and books help you remember your loved one.
For me this week, I was most captivated by the joyful spirit of celebration that arose out of the cries and tears. Watching the news coverage around the home where Mandela had died just hours before, I was startled by the show of deep emotion. Women and men and even little children were wailing and weeping and then would break into the songs of liberation. For the last several days the sadness of grief has been mixed with the joyful sounds of triumph --for a life and for a death that places Mandela among the ancestors. Much of the world, I've learned, find our quiet and somber funeral customs to be very strange. Those of us who have spent time with loved ones who are dying, when they died, and after the death and through the grieving rituals know how hard it is for many people to deal with these times.
When we exercise our grief muscles and our capacity for deep mourning, we are able to make a transition in our minds, in our bodies, and throughout the everyday reality of our lives to a reinvigorated level of living. Now all of this is not a smooth and easy process, but the effort is worth it. So may I wish for you a time this season to share your memories and find ways to celebrate in joy and hope.
Finally, here is a poem that sustained Mandela during his twenty seven years and beyond. What songs, poems, movies, and books help you remember your loved one.
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
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