“Jesus said to her, ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, even though they die, will live” (John 11:25)
Kairos: while Chronos measures wristwatch time, Kairos is not time passing, but moments filled with divine possibility and meaning; “appointed” times.
I’m writing Easter Alleluia IV at the confluence of two religious holidays: the sixth Sunday of Eastertide and Mother’s Day Sunday – remembering Jesus’ death and resurrection, and my mother, Ellen’s, death and victorious entrance into heaven, “…because He lives, we too shall live.” (John 14:19)
The resurrection is the cornerstone of a Christian’s faith, for “if Christ has not been raised, our faith is vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:14). It continues to be the subject of debate, and while the debate is interesting, it doesn’t impact my faith. There is no substitute for personal experience. Each of us needs to make faith our own:
Late August 2005. My mother is dying. She’s drifting in and out of consciousness. Suddenly, she begins speaking. I’m startled as I realize she’s talking with family members who’ve died. She tells her mother that it won’t be long now and says hello to her sister, Marie. I wonder if she’s losing her mind, but her conversations are completely lucid. Then she begins chatting with someone who’s standing at the foot of the bed, my father, Henry! While she drifts back asleep. I’m alert and super-charged. I can’t believe what I’ve just witnessed.
Kairos time: a divine encounter, a transformative, decisive, life-changing moment, when circumstances are perfectly aligned.
During the last years of her life, Ellen’s body began to wither and fade. For my mother, who was strong, hardworking and independent, becoming weak, homebound and dependent was a challenge. But, just as the other defining moments of her life - eking out a living with Henry on the farm, losing a daughter, being estranged from her youngest son who survived the jungles of Vietnam but wasn’t able to return home and the death of her beloved Henry — had tested her faith and taught her submission to the will of her heavenly Father, she accepted her limits and faced death with peace and serenity. Perhaps, because she had already died to self, ego, and personal ambition, dying was a fearless experience for her.
Kairos: a moment “thick” with grace and truth.
As Ellen’s body faded, her spirit grew stronger. Her skin was as thin as an onion's, yet she glowed with an inner radiance. There was an aura around her; being with her was like being on holy ground. My mother gave her loved ones the ultimate gift – she showed us how to die.
September 1, 2005
“Ellen.” The voice is familiar and tender.
“My Lord.”
“Ellen. It is time.”
“Time?” She seems puzzled. “Oh, my Lord, I have overslept. I must fix breakfast and tend my roses.”
“No, Ellen. You have fought the good fight. You have run the race. Your earthly chores are done.”
“My Lord, I do not understand.”
“My dearest, the One who formed you in the beginning is calling your name.”
His words were thick with meaning, yet, hardly daring to believe their import, she stammered, “My Lord, can it be true? I have waited so long for this moment!”
“Ellen, today you shall enter into the joy of your Lord. See, the angels have come to bring you home. Can you hear them singing?”
Ellen's voice is animated. “Yes, I hear them. They are coming closer. And someone is with them.”
Joy gushing forth like a geyser from the ground. “Can it be? Yes, it’s my Henry! My Lord, I am ready to go home.” ("In the Garden," pgs. 108-109)*
Kairos: a life-changing encounter, which calls for a response.
Watching my mother die is forever etched in my memory. In the years following her death, I reflected on how the way she lived affected the peaceful, victorious way she died. I felt compelled to tell her story. I began writing her memoir.
Easter Alleluia IV is dedicated to her.
