...but to console

I was invited over to Gloucester Academy last night. Sadly, the school is mourning the loss of a member of staff, who suddenly died over the Christmas holiday.

Elaine's work was focussed on supporting families from travelling communities, who's kids we often find hanging out in the prayer room during weeks of prayer.

So, the chaplain invited Helen from Redcliffe college and myself to help him take an informal service thing for staff and any of the travelling families who wanted to come. 

To be honest, I felt awkward. I didn't know Elaine, but I wanted to support these guys in their time of sadness. And it's really impacted the school. So many people were impacted by this lovely ladies life. I quietly sat during our time together as people recalled stories and shared them together. 

One thing stood out to me. One lady in tears, said "it's like losing one of your own family". It reminded me, in Brother Ramon's book on Franciscan Spirituality, that he says in there that his aim in mission is to treat everyone he meets as if they were his own brother or sister. And here, I was listening to unrelated families talk about a teacher as if she was their sister, or aunt. It was really something.

Though uncomfortable, these things are so important. Not only to celebrate the lives of those we've loved, but also to build bridges again with people who are often cast aside. I'm humbled that the work of our simple prayer weeks could lead to something like this, in a school like this. And so, in the words of Francis;

Lord, make me an instrument of thy peace.
Where there is hatred, let me sow love,
Where there is injury, pardon;
Where there is doubt, faith;
Where there is despair, hope;
Where there is darkness, light;
And where there is sadness, joy.

O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved, as to love.