My experience on Palm Sunday: Descending into the Valley of Holy Week where I already dwell

On the church calendar, we officially began Holy Week yesterday on Palm Sunday. But for me, Holy Week began in early March with the deaths of several people dear to us at St. Paul’s. My experience of Holy Week this year is especially woven into the memorial services we held last Thursday for Thomas Buckley and on Saturday for Joseph “Pepe” Humphrey.

Tom Buckley was a member of St. Luke’s Episcopal Church in Simeon, a small church a few miles from here. His family asked if we could use our space for his service, so of course we opened our doors and our hearts. He was only 53, and died suddenly the Saturday before last. Tom was a neo-natal care nurse, and known and loved by many both inside the University of Virginia Medical Center, and in the community at large. He was a friend to many in our congregation, so a service for him with us was only fitting. We had more than 600 people at his service, and the outpouring of love for him and his family was huge.

Pepe Humphrey was a scientist of formidable intellect and achievement, holding professor posts in both the engineering and the biology departments of the University of Virginia. He was among the first people we met when we came to Charlottesville; he and his wife Sally were members of All Souls Parish in Berkeley, where I had previously served before coming here. He had been fighting cancer for several years, and it was my privilege to walk with him the last two years of his illness. To me, Pepe was a theologian; he never tired of asking where God dwelled in the workings of the universe. Pepe died March 1.

We’ve recently lost three other beloved members of St. Paul’s: Carol Hine, Kitty Olton and Charlotte Scott. It was my privilege to preside at Mrs. Olton's memorial service earlier this month; although I did not know her, I was much touched by the reflections of her children about their mother and her love of life and love of people.

So I must acknowledge at the outset that I enter Holy Week with a weariness of death, and a weariness of so much sadness. I’ve been dwelling in Good Friday for a few weeks already. I did not need the passion story to get there.

Indeed, hearing the passion story of Jesus on Palm Sunday felt particularly difficult for me this year. I could hear the cries of those who loved Jesus as he slipped from their grasp; those cries felt very real to me yesterday for they were the cries of real people right here. The story of the crucifixion so long ago seemed very present in the pain of families living now with the reality of losing someone they dearly love. As we told in church the age-old story of the passion, I found myself listening for a glint of hope, a place of rest, a moment of comfort, but I heard none – at least not in the words.

The hope for me Sunday was in the palms.

The hope was the in laughter as we circled the nave, waving our palms and having a bit of fun in church. I saw hope in the faces of our children as they carried their palms, and later as they marched back into church to the hymn “Seek Ye First the Kingdom of God.” And my hope came in seeing people – so many people – come to the Table for Holy Communion, to share with each other for a few moments in the hope of life eternal, and life where weeping is no more. The hope that will carry me through Holy Week was in the faces of kids, and in tasting the bread and wine, and hearing the music.

This is the week we descend to the valley of the shadow of death; this is the week when we march to the Cross, and the week we when we come face-to-face again with the hard questions of death and life.

Easter will come, but not yet.

Collect for Monday in Holy Week

Almighty God, whose dear Son went not up to joy but
first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he
was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way
of the cross, may find it none other that the way of life and
peace; through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord, who lives
and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever
and ever. Amen.

Art by He Qi (Chinese)

To pray you open your whole self

Yesterday afternoon, our daytime Education for Ministry group gathered as it usually does on Mondays. It has been only a week since one of our members, Pepe Humphrey, died of cancer.

His presence is still much with the group, and his loss much on our minds. A member of the group, Kelli Olson, offered this poem to the group yesterday. She said it reminds her of Pepe and what he brought to life and to us. I share this poem with you today:

Eagle Poem
By Joy Harjo

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can't see, can't hear
Can't know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren't always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circles in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe, knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

Sad news about a treasured friend and member of St. Paul's

I have some very sad news. Joseph "Pepe" Humphrey died early Monday morning of cancer. For followers of this blog, last week we featured a deeply moving reflection he wrote, My Room, about his spiritual walk through many adversities. You can read his writing by scrolling down, or clicking HERE.

I got to know Pepe soon after we arrived in Charlottesville. Pepe and his wife, Sally, had been members of All Souls Parish in Berkeley, my last church before this one.

Pepe was part of our daytime Education for Ministry group, and he had opened his heart and his home to the group. Until recently, our regular meeting place was his living room. Today our EfM group read the Litany at the Time of Death. There were a good many tears in the room.

Pepe's memorial service will be March 27 at 11 am at St. Paul's.

Pepe was an accomplished scientist and a major presence on the faculty at the University of Virginia. Here is what the University's website has to say about him:

Joseph (Pepe) Humphrey joined the Department of Mechanical and Aerospace Engineering of the University of Virginia in the summer of 2000. He is the Wade Professor of Engineering and Applied Science and was Department Chairman from 08/00 through 12/05. He has earned degrees in chemistry (Ingeniero Quimico Diplomado, Barcelona, Spain, 1970), chemical engineering (M. A. Sc., University of Toronto, Canada, 1973), mechanical engineering - fluid mechanics (Ph.D., Imperial College, London, U.K., 1977) and received the D. Sc. Eng, degree from London University in 1997. Between 1978 and 1995, Dr. Humphrey rose through the faculty ranks at the University of California at Berkeley. Subsequently he was Head of Aerospace and Mechanical Engineering at the University of Arizona and Dean of Engineering at Bucknell University.

Dr. Humphrey's research and teaching interests revolve around experimental, theoretical and numerical investigations of flow, heat and mass transfer phenomena, especially in relation to biomedical and biological systems. These include: application of particle image and laser-Doppler velocimetry, and other flow visualization techniques; computational fluid mechanics; turbulence modeling; buoyancy-, curvature-, and rotation-driven instabilities and transition to turbulence; two-phase flow and erosive wear; rotating and strongly curved flows; buoyancy driven flows in open cavities and enclosures; flows past bluff bodies and flow-structure interactions; development and application of interactive computational-experimental methodologies based on adaptive/learning strategies for thermofluids research; sensors and sensing in biology and engineering; biomedical catheters for cardiovascular and neurological applications. He has over 135 journal papers and 100 refereed conference papers in these areas, and is active in various professional societies including the American Society for Mechanical Engineers of which he is a Fellow. Dr. Humphrey is the founder of the biennial International Symposia on Sensors and Sensing in Biology and Engineering and a co-founder of the biennial International Symposia on Turbulence and Shear Flow Phenomena.

"My Room" - A powerful homily by a treasured friend and member of St. Paul's

For the past year we've invited St. Paul's people to offer a reflection at our Wednesday Evening Prayer. We've been treated to some extraordinary meditations from some extraordinary people.

Last night, it was my privilege to read one of these reflections from

Joseph "Pepe" Humphrey. I need to explain a bit.

Pepe, and his wife Sally, were among the first people I got to know when we moved to Charlottesville. They are from Berkeley, and they had been members at All Souls Parish until he took a professor post at the University of Virginia. My All Souls friends told me to look them up, and of course I did.

Pepe has been in our Education for Ministry group. We've been meeting in his house until recently.

Pepe could not be there last night. He has cancer. He was scheduled to read his homily a few weeks ago, but then the snow hit, and he couldn't get to St. Paul's. We rescheduled for last night, but he is now so weak he could not come to read it.

He asked me to read this for him. I have to say it was one of the most powerful Evening Prayer experiences I have ever witnessed.

Before you read this, first read John 14:1-6. Then take your time reading, and please keep Pepe and Sally, and his daughters, in your prayers:

MY ROOM

In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, and when He placed the stars in the firmament of the heavens, I like to think He brought into existence a universe replete with galaxies, each with innumerable solar systems supporting many, many earth-like planets vibrant with life at different stages, with intelligent God-loving creatures like us created in the image of God. Jesus says in John’s Gospel, "Let not your hearts be troubled; believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, so that where I am you may be also.” I like to think that the “Father’s house” Jesus speaks of is the universe God created, and that the “many rooms” are the collection of life-supporting planets in this universe.

I have a dwelling place that I call “My Room.” I have lived in My Room all my life. My Room has many windows and a door, and I control whether they are open, half open or shut, and what passes through them. I have lived a very insulated, self-focused and self-gratifying life in My Room, with the door to it often shut except for special visitors of my own choosing. But now and then I have opened or half-opened some of the windows to deal with the world outside. In fact, some of the windows have mail slots at their base, so that if I do not wish to open a particular window I can still interact indirectly with the world outside by posting a note.

One window that is fully open all the time is the Window of Knowledge. For I am a scientist you see, and my livelihood and much of my intellectual excitement rest largely on the knowledge I receive and transmit through that window. I have no problem keeping that window open.

Another window that I thought was fully open is the Window of Family Relatives and Friends. But when I look carefully I see that it has been only partly open. Over the years I have taken for granted my wife and children and not bothered to fully open that window to let pass through it all the responsibilities and joys associated with being a husband and a father. I have now fully opened that window.

There is also the Window of Health, another window that I thought was fully open but which, in fact, was only partly open. Again, for years I took good health for granted and did not let enough fresh air and sunshine pass through this window, to really promote my good health in the company of others. I have done exercise all my life, but always alone, inside My Room, cut off from the outside world.

Then there is the Window of Love and Compassion. This window has always been mostly shut, any interactions with the outside world being through the mail slot at its base. The window was mostly shut because I thought I knew all about love and compassion. But I was wrong. By opening this window I discover that, to know about love you must allow yourself to be loved, and to know about compassion you have to experience suffering. In the self-satisfied smug world of My Room, I had cut myself off from both real love and true compassion. Now this window has been pried wide open and I know more about love and compassion, especially for others.

There are other windows to My Room and we need not explore them all, except perhaps to tell you about the Window of Faith and Hope. I knew this window was jammed, painted shut, but I gave it no importance. I had never questioned my “faith;” and what did I need to “hope” for?; I had all I needed to hope for in My Room. Then a series of devastating events occurred in relatively quick succession...I was diagnosed with advanced prostate cancer and started to receive a long and painful therapy...

In my desperation and suffering I ran to the Window of Faith and Hope and tried to pry it open, but I could not budge it. I pounded on it, I clawed with fingernails at the paint hoping to loosen it, I pulled as forcefully as I could on the handle. But all to no avail. And yet I could hear whispering on the other side of the window, and I yelled in anger “Open this window!” But nothing happened, just a continued gentle whispering on the other side. Eventually, I slumped against the window and finally crumpled to the floor miserable and exhausted, a very sad and broken man. In my sobbing I begged God’s forgiveness for my great sin and, eventually, I fell into a deep sleep. In my sleep I heard more whispering, I heard these words being whispered to me: “For behold, you look for truth deep within me, and will make me understand wisdom secretly.”

Hours later when I awoke, the first thing I noticed was that the window of Faith and Hope was wide open, letting fresh air and sunlight into My Room. The window showed no signs of having been forced, and it moved easily on its hinges. The other thing I noticed was that the whispering had stopped. But now that the window was fully open I could read some words the Whisperer had scorched into the outside wooden frame; the words read: “The sacrifice of God is a troubled spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”

I come to the end of my story. The point is to remind you that each one of us lives in a room of our own making, with windows and a door, and it is important to open the windows and the door fully to allow the joy and gladness of the outside world to enter your room carried by the Grace and Love of God. I think the psalmist new all about cosmic houses and rooms when he wrote: “One thing have I asked of the LORD; one thing I seek; that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to behold the fair beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple.”

Joseph A.C. Humphrey

Painting by Edward Hopper