“Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth…But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven” (Matthew 6:19)
It happens more than you may think. I find persons in the church sitting or kneeling in the empty seats. Not those looking at the icons on the walls, but the ones alone or just lonely, staring ahead or with bowed head. Do I leave them to their reflections and prayers, or should I offer some counseling or consolation?
Some I recall more than others. I remember one such on a summer weekday. A young thirty-something woman. She seemed forlorn. I approached to break the silence.
Hello, I wonder if there’s something I can do for you?
No, thank you. I’d just like to sit here for a while if it’s OK.
Perfectly all right. I’ll be in my office if you should need me.
It’s just that I was married here, and today is my tenth anniversary.
“My” suggested that she was no longer married. I hadn’t married her and recalled that this week used to be my vacation time. My replacement must have performed the wedding.
Unfortunately it just didn’t work out. We were divorced two years ago.
Was a third person involved in your marriage?
No, we were both faithful—as far as I know.
Was he ‘downsized,’ as they say, or were you forced to relocate and chose not to move?
No, nothing like that. We both worked. It was just stuff.
Stuff?
Yeah, well, you know. Things. Material things. Stuff. Like that.
I’m not sure I do know. You both worked, you were true to one another, you were evidently well off, but you parted because of material goods?
Yeah. We were always arguing about things. He wanted a sports car. I wanted an SUV. He wanted a boat. I wanted a condo. He wanted to go to Hawaii. I wanted to see Paris.
And that was sufficient cause for you to divorce? Surely you fell out of love somewhere.
No, that’s the funny thing about it. I miss him. His folks say he misses me too. I think about trying to get together again. Our friends keep trying to get us to give it another try.
Why don’t you?
‘Cause I know it’ll be the same thing all over again. I don’t think he will ever grow up.
Nor will you, I thought.
If this civilization does survive another century and continues its obsession with material “stuff,” I can envision a funeral style something like that of the Vikings of a millennium past. In their ritual of passage, they would load up one of their elegant sailing ships, filling it with the clothing weapons, goods, tools and even the pets of the dead hero. They then brought his favorite steed aboard and slaughtered it. Food and beverages were stocked for the long voyage to Valhalla. After that a night of carousing and revelry took place. The last act and the most awesome—a young maiden was selected to accompany the dead man’s soul. She was plied with alcohol until she reeled and thrashed about, losing her strength if not her tears. Older women brought her aboard, where she was put to death. The living left the boat after having set it ablaze. As the craft went up in flames, it was shoved from the shore and pushed out into the sea, there to burn all that was aboard.
Some even now do something like this in a minor way—they include the favorite articles of the deceased in the coffin or the box in which the person is cremated…a fitting rite of passage for a society obsessed with things and stuff.