The Old Guard, Blood and Water

by the Rev John W Beckman, Epiphany Lutheran Church, Conyers, GA

Dear Friends in Christ:

I have recently returned from my annual trip to the Midwest to visit my aging parents as well as a beloved 90-year-old aunt who lives alone in a 110-year-old farmhouse in rural Wisconsin. The trip is counted as part of my vacation but I am hard pressed to know how to answer when folks ask me about it.

My sister Sara comes from California to meet up with me. We coordinate this in order to make the most of the time and share the cost of travel. We also know that we cannot make this trip alone. We need each other. It is a time of re-union. It is also a time of grief. It is so very hard to see one’s parent’s age. The hands that once held ours have changed. The eyes that once looked both ways for us at intersections have grown dim. The minds that once could go toe to toe with us in playful banter have now been reduced to vacuous stares unable to comprehend our tears and pain like they once so quickly responded to.

I know many who read these words know of what I am speaking. Others only know it is coming. It is a part of life. It is a hard part.

I remember a couple years ago a good friend penned a reflection about saying good-bye to the lions of our past. Like Napoleon’s storied Old Guard these were the ones who held the line at all costs. Napoleon escaped from Waterloo because they held the road in which he was retreating. They fought to the last man. They could be counted on.

So too for those who can claim good parents. They weren’t perfect but their gracious love made their flaws insignificant. They provided a safe haven of home and hope. Always happy to hear our voices and respond. Always on our side even when they corrected us. Who better to do that? Who better to know our potential? Who better to know our flaws and yet instead of counting them, holding them against us – Grace – Love - held the day as they gently corrected our mistaken paths.

My friend’s reflection spoke of the pain of watching the old lions ultimately lie down and the sense of loss that accompanies their passing. And then comes the recognition that the guard has changed. We no longer can rely upon them like we once did. Now we have blessed memories and a learned faithful path to take as they once did. They showed us how now it is our turn to be for others what they were to us.

I have heard it said that blood is thicker than water. I understand this. Our families often become the bastions against a frightening and often cruel world. Where else can we turn?

Some two thousand years one came to show us another way. It is a way that turns the blood and water metaphor on its ear. From the moment of his birth to his eventual tortured death upon a cross – his life was dedicated to sharing with us the truth that our families are much bigger than we are. Through the waters of baptism we have been each grafted onto a family tree that includes no other than God himself. And in this tree we have our ultimate hope and solace. No matter our backgrounds, our lineage, and our gifts of family or lack thereof – our connection is simply faith and the waters of our baptisms.

As the words of Scripture ring true in our midst – truly we are like the flowers of the field – that whither and fade – we cling and hold fast to our ultimate truth and hope: but the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.

Shalom,

Pastor John

O God, you have taught me since I was young, and to this day I tell of your wonderful works. Now I am old and gray headed, O God, do not forsake me, till I make known your strength to this generation and your power to all who are to come.
Psalm 71: 17-18