Loss, Life and God's Gentle Ways..Romans 8:26

The most difficult aspect of the life of a college chaplain is working with other members of the campus community when the death of a student occurs. We work daily with young adults who have their entire lives before them. This work is all about assisting young adults in preparing for their futures. And yet, tragically, sometimes we must stand with them as they confront their own mortality because a classmate has died. There is no adequate description of the growing sense of panic that ensues whenever the news of a student's death begins to spread to all corners of the campus, and beyond. News that once took a measurable amount of time to permeate the campus now travels in an instant, thanks to social media. It is impossible to get ahead of the curve, to be there before students get the terrible news. Now, we must scramble to set up support networks as quickly as possible, and to try to identify potential sites where students will gather to console one another. We had one of those terrible events here last Saturday, when so many administrators and faculty were away from campus, enjoying the beginning of that short season we know as end of the semester. On a day that we usually take a deep breath and relax, we were called to attention, and to our posts, as the community was shaken to its core by the death of a beloved student member. Along with a thousand details that must be covered in such an emergency comes the certainty that we must gather the community together, as soon as possible. Not surprisingly, that particular task falls to the chaplain. What do we say, how do we set it up, what if no one wants to get together? One of the gifts that comes with many seasons of doing this work is knowing that, wherever we gather folks, and whatever we do, they will come, and when the community comes together, it is better than if the members cope with their loss while scattered about. And so, we gathered in the chapel at ten o'clock on a Saturday night, on the day that holds the traditional end-of-the-semester celebration. This year, it was that very celebration that contributed to the loss, but that was not the reason for gathering. The community was dealing with shock, disbelief, regret and an overwhelming, palpable sadness. The chapel was filled beyond its capacity, as people migrated there as if on auto-pilot. I am a relatively well-educated person, but no amount of training can fully prepare one to break the painful silence of the hundreds gathered there. There was not a face that was not etched in pain, not a person there who was not touched by this tragedy, if only because he or she is a member of this community. And so it began, and we addressed the reality that such a gathering is the hardest thing that we can do as a community, and yet we must do it. Several folks shared their memories of the beloved student, and no words were more poignant than those of the late student's own parents, who chose to gather with the community in one of the greatest gestures of love and support that many of us have ever witnessed. They sought to comfort the community, even while they were dealing with the most awful reality that parents can ever face. There were hugs and tears, and one-word prayers uttered by anyone who wished to offer them, and the effect was what can only be described as supernatural. From every corner of that cavernous space came words of hope, comfort, tribute, pain, disbelief and even thanks. And then it was over, and we slowly made our way back out into the night. We continue to pick up the pieces during this finals week, and one can still feel the heaviness of the pall that settled over the community. But there is something else, as well. Students, faculty and staff who were in attendance at that late night gathering carry with them a bond that is quietly acknowledged whenever we pass on the sidewalks or see one another in the dining hall. We know that, for a few moments, we were in the presence of a power beyond ourselves that took our burdens and made them....bearable. The Spirit was with us, and it made itself known to those of many, and no, faith traditions. In the horror of that day, little moments of grace permeated our lives. "The Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words."