Graduation is the moment we begin to live what we have learned

It has been nearly a year since my friend Elizabeth died. Elizabeth and I were friends all our lives. You could even say that we were friends before we were born because our mothers were friends before they married our fathers. Elizabeth’s mother was Russian Orthodox, and her father was Episcopalian. This made for an ecumenical richness in the bond that linked our two families.

Elizabeth’s brother, Alexander, married Sharon, who is a former officer in the Salvation Army. They shared with me one of their experiences that became for me a favorite ecumenical story: Sharon was called to attend a Salvation Army meeting held in Alaska, and Alexander went with her for the trip. Because of its closeness to Russia, there is a strong Russian Orthodox presence in Alaska, and Alexander, with his Russian Orthodox roots, visited the local Russian Orthodox church.

The trip took place in the spring, and in talking with an official at the church, Alexander learned that there was an important interdenominational event planned to take place for the Blessing of the Fishing Fleet. The official mentioned that they were looking for volunteers to strengthen the choir, and Alexander, who says he can’t carry a tune in a bucket, volunteered Sharon, who has a lovely alto voice.

Sharon agreed, and when the liturgy took place, there, among the various singers in their choir robes, stood Sharon wearing her Salvation Army uniform. It caused quite a sensation!

This ecumenical richness was shown when Alexander, Sharon and I met and talked about Elizabeth’s death. Sharon told me that in the Salvation Army they refer to death as a “Promotion to Glory.” I said that is like my own idea of death as “graduation.”

Graduation is the moment when all that I have tried to learn is confirmed and I am given the go-ahead to put it into practice. Graduation is a time of joy, of relief and anticipation as I move forward into fully living what I have studied.

How can the word “graduation” be applied to death? As Christians, we are disciples, disciples of Jesus, and the word “disciple” means “learner,” so we are all in the process of learning something. What we are called to learn is described in the Gospel for the Solemnity of Christ the King: “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left.  Then the king will say to those at his right hand, ‘Come, you that are blessed by my father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.’”

They are blessed because they have fed the hungry, clothed the naked, visited the sick and imprisoned. They have practiced love to those in need. That is what we are here on this earth to learn: how to put into practice the love that is poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit.

Does everybody graduate? Everybody passes through death, and everybody will practice what they choose to learn in this life. Those who refused to love others will practice that refusal in unending emptiness. Those who choose to try to love in this life will find themselves sharing love with all their fellow learners. Together they will live the limitless love that is God and together they will all live his love throughout the timeless expanse of glory.

The limits of this life form the scaffolding for our learning experience. Scaffolding is meant to be removed. That is what happens when we die:

A little time, a little space
Are lent to me to grow in grace.
When finally, I’ve learned to love
Both space and time will be removed.

 

Sister Gabriela of the Incarnation is a member of the Discalced Carmelites order in Flemington. Learn more at www.flemingtoncarmel.org.