‘Our work done?’
Good afternoon,
Today’s Companionship reflection comes from Barbara Davey, Honorary Quaker Chaplain:
Alongside the heartache, the anxiety, and the distress of recent weeks, there have been unexpected riches, and one of these has been the Office of Compline that we can join via Zoom each Thursday evening. The word ‘Compline’ derives from the Latin ‘completorium’, signifying the completion of the working day and services are usually held at 10pm (but 9 pm more recently). Compline tends to be a contemplative Office that emphasizes spiritual peace and it concludes with an extended period of silence that, as a Quaker, I feel very comfortable with.
I have been attending Compline at St Leonard’s Chapel for several years, always enjoying the music sung by the choir at the opening and close of each service, but it is the prayers especially that speak to me in our present condition. They talk of being cherished Keep me as the apple of an eye, and of safe-keeping Hide me under the shadow of thy wings. They acknowledge We who are wearied by the changes and chances of this fleeting world and they offer eternal changelessness, a place to rest.
The closing prayer carries particular resonance:
Support us all the day long of this troublous life, until the shades lengthen, and the evening cometh, and the busy world is hushed, the fever of life over, and our work done. Then, Lord, in thy mercy, grant us safe lodging, a holy rest, and peace at the last.
As the pandemic continues to take its toll, I hear daily of the rising number of deaths. With people dying isolated or in circumstances of great distress, it seems fitting, in a way that is hard for me to articulate, that I join with others in offering such prayers with their images of peace, alongside the stories of grief and suffering.
William Penn, an early Quaker, gave another image of comfort, writing in 1693 Death is but the crossing of the world, as friends do the seas; they live in one another still and he continued Death, then, being the way and condition of life, we cannot love to live, if we cannot bear to die. Over the years I have had several close encounters with death and reflecting on Penn’s words helped me recognise its mystery, and to see a way in which accepting death freed me to live more fully. My attention shifted and coming from a place of love, I asked of myself, how can I express what is truly of value in my living? How can I let my life speak?
But now the current pandemic, with its fierce unpredictability, is stirring up fresh fears and there is a phrase in the closing prayer of Compline that has begun to trouble me. Our work done speaks of a life completed, with echoes of the sense of a long life richly lived. So many of the current stories I am hearing speak of a life cut short. What if I die before my work is done? The fear can hang like a grim cloud, darkening even these sunniest of days. It is taking me time to acknowledge the concern, and to tenderly explore it.
An approach I am finding useful is one shared with me by Friends in New York when I was visiting with them: it is based around The Four Things that Matter Most. Ira Byock, a US doctor in Palliative Care, has written about the value of saying to those you are close to, these Four Things that Matter Most in life:
Please forgive me – I forgive you – Thank you – I love you
Through his work, Byock saw how precious our relationships were and how important it was to say what needs to be said, however obvious it sounds, before it is too late. Even in the best of relationships there will be mistakes and regrets. The idea has developed from its roots in palliative care and we are encouraged to be mindful of the Four Things at any time, and with wider relationships than simply family. I am realising that to express forgiveness, gratitude, affection need not wait until there is serious illness, it can be a practice bringing wholeness and a sense of completeness to my daily living, each and every day.
Byock has also written about saying good-bye in a way that recognises our vital connections one with another. The word ‘good-bye’ derives from the traditional church blessing “God be with you” and while not all our good-byes are final, they can all be meaningful, acknowledging our relationship within a sense of being held in loving care. The practice of leaving nothing unsaid helps us capture something of the original meaning of the blessing, our good-byes becoming treasured gifts to others as we part from them, whenever or whether we expect to see them again.
As I feel my way into a different and affirmative understanding of a completed life, the fears of my life cut short are being transformed and they no longer hold such sway over me, but it isn’t always easy. It takes courage and I am helped by the assurance of a loving presence that I receive both from Quaker meeting for worship and Compline. I try to end each day restfully, in a spirit of peace and gratitude, looking to the morning with hope.
None of us knows what the future will hold and I’d like to close with some lines that I cherish from one of our Quaker advices – these words open another perspective on my individual life. They speak to me now with urgency and poignancy –
Pray that in your final years you may be enabled to find new ways of receiving and reflecting God’s love.
The final Compline of the semester will be next Thursday 21 May, Ascension Day, at 9 pm – invitation to follow.
Yours,
Donald.