Behind-the-Scenes Blog

R-rated?

I feel as if I should put an R-rated warning on this blog post: “For mature audiences only.”

Because I’m going to talk about death. Starting with Jesus’s death. And then my own.

The Narrative Lectionary reading for “Passion Sunday” is the text where Pilate hands Jesus over to be crucified (John 19:16b-22). One important detail is Pilate’s order for an inscription to be put on Jesus’s cross saying “The King of the Jews.” As John records it, Pilate had it written in Hebrew, in Latin, and in Greek, the most common languages in that region, so all could understand it.

As I sit in front of my computer to write this blog post, I wonder: What might Jesus have chosen for this inscription? What would he have wanted the people gathered at the crucifixion to know about him? A few possibilities come to mind:

“Love you!”
“As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.” (John 15:9, NIV)

“With you!”
“… remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matthew 29:20)

“Remember me.”
“Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks he broke it and gave it to them, saying, ‘This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’ ” (Luke 22:19)

Then I turn the same question to myself. What do I want people to know about me? What kind of inscription would I want?

When I bring my lively imagination down to life-sized proportions, I can think of three places in our contemporary society where we use “inscriptions”:

• An epigraph for a book
• A plaque on a door
• Words on a tombstone

I realize not everyone who reads this post will be at the stage of life I am, where I’m starting to think about things like funeral planning and bucket-list wishes, but I think the questions I’m asking connect with each of us, at multiple stages of our lives.

• An epigraph for a book sets the context for the story that unfolds.
• A door plaque shares something important for people who pass by to know.
• A tombstone inscription identifies and honors a person’s life.

Epigraph for a book

Epigraphs can refer to engraved inscriptions on a building, a statue, or a coin. But the epigraphs I’m most familiar with, especially since I’m an avid reader, are the epigraphs authors choose for the beginning of their books. These introductory quotes usually suggest a theme for the book and often give the reader a bit of insight into the author’s thinking.

So I let myself imagine this: If I were to write a book, what would I want the epigraph to say?

Last fall, after launching the Narrative Alive graphics project, I was looking for ways to let people know about the graphics. One of the calls I made was to Ben in the Working Preacher office, which coordinates the Narrative Lectionary readings, to get his input. We talked about several possibilities, but he made one suggestion in particular that sunk in:

“Write a blog.” He thought it would be a good way for people to get to know me.

Over the years, I’ve edited countless books by a wide range of authors, from Ted Loder’s Guerrillas of Grace to Joan Brown Campbell’s Living into Hope. Along the way, I’ve learned a fair amount about the craft of wordsmithing. I’ve also done a fair amount of journal writing, but that has always been private. I’ve written a few pieces here and there for devotionals and retreat settings, but I’ve never considered myself “a writer.”

Yet here’s the thing: I’d never felt such a strong, compelling call to write as I do now. Ben’s encouragement lit the spark, and the Spirit beckoned, “Don’t just light a candle; light a fire!”

So I decided to give it a try.

What I did not expect was the intensity of this burning within me to write. Each week, there was—and is—this drive to delve into my thoughts and feelings in response to the scripture text and pull them to the surface for examination. Not to change anyone’s life but to integrate the pieces of my own.

I have to smile: When Ben suggested I write a blog so people could get to know me, he probably didn’t have THIS much of me in mind! But when I started asking myself, ‘When in my life have I experienced something that relates to this text,’ I knew the only way I could write was to share my story, to share who I am.

Five months into this blog experiment, and I’m already beginning to think about gathering the posts into some sort of book form. Given my experience as a book publisher, I have many hesitancies about publishing these days, but that doesn’t stop me from considering what quote I might use for an epigraph of such a book.

I’d want people to know how important writing has become for me, how much understanding about my life writing is giving me.

The quote that immediately comes to mind is from a book I’ve read several times and keep coming back to:

“In God’s reign ‘everything belongs,’ even the broken and poor parts.”
—Richard Rohr, Everything Belongs: The Gift of Contemplative Prayer

Everything belongs. My painful, crushing bouts of depression. The hard slog to start several businesses. Deep soul-connecting friendships. Creative outbursts of words and images. Awe-filled explorations of woods and mountains. Joy-filled love of my brothers and sisters.

Everything. Each experience is part of who I am. Each experience has made me who I am.

The words “everything belongs” feel like a loving embrace from God that says every part of my journey matters.

I invite you to consider the same question: If you were to write a book about yourself, what quote might you use for an epigraph? What important theme in your life would you want others to know?

Plaque for a door

It’s common in office buildings for doors to have a plague announcing the person’s name and perhaps their title. It’s also a familiar sight to see welcome signs or banners on the doors of people’s homes.

This past year I’ve been visiting senior living residences to see if I might find one that would fit for me. One of the facilities I toured was the place where my mother had lived. As I walked the familiar hallways, I had to smile at all the little plaques people had hung on their doors.

In those long, anonymous halls, each plaque revealed a glimpse of the unique person who lived behind the door. Often the signs conveyed a cheery, welcome message. That prompted my sister who was touring the facility with me to tease me about what cutesy thing I would put on my door.

I can tell you this much: I’m pretty sure my door plaque won’t include fake flowers or a sentimental saying. And I’m much too much of an introvert to have a sign that suggests “come in.”

But I had a dear aunt who embodied that kind of welcome. The door to her home was always open and the coffee pot always on. No knocking required. All you needed to do was step into the kitchen and call out, “I’m here,” and she’d welcome you with open arms.

I loved her ability to greet people with such enthusiasm, no matter the time of day. But that’s just not me. I cringe at the thought of people popping by unannounced, surprising me. Still, I would want my door plaque to let people know “I care.” And I’d like to offer something hopeful or inspirational.

Right now, I’m considering this possibility:

“We don’t need to be the sun to illuminate the world; even the faintest light of kindness can make it shine.”
—Bhuwan Thapaliya

I invite you to consider the same question: If you were to hang a plague on your door, what would you want it to say? What might you offer that would inspire others?

Inscription for a tombstone

One thing that’s become increasingly clear as I age is that death isn’t some abstract construct in the far-flung future. And, death takes a little planning. Who’s going to handle all my financial trails and close out all my accounts and credit cards? Who’s going to dismantle and distribute all my “stuff”?

Since I don’t have adult children who might step up and take care of those things when I die, I want to make it as simple as possible for my brothers and sisters who would inevitably be part of the post-dying clearing process.

One of my brothers suggested something called a Nokbox (next-of-kin box). I’m not trying to put a commercial in here, but I have to say I’m finding the suggestions of what information to include in such a box very helpful. I keep adding things as I think of them: tax returns, bank accounts, digital accounts, passwords, auto-paid bills to cancel, etc.

There’s one folder in the box that has been empty for a while: plans for my funeral. About as far as I’ve gotten is to google information about a “natural burial” (the practice of burying someone in a natural setting without a casket). Recently, I’ve also started putting a few songs on a thumb drive that I want played at my memorial service.

But I hadn’t thought about what I wanted on my tombstone until last week when I had a Zoom call with my friend Marjory. Marjory Bankson is a gifted author and retreat leader whose books I’ve edited and whom I’ve been fortunate to know for over forty years. She was telling me about a recent retreat she led on death and dying. One of the exercises she included was an invitation for people to consider what they wanted on their tombstone. Some people chose just their name and dates. Others added a phrase.

After that call, I knew I couldn’t write this blog post about “inscriptions” without considering this last inscription on my tombstone. How do I want people to remember me?

What I choose today for my tombstone might be different from what I would have chosen ten years ago. And if I live another ten years, it might change again. But, right now, the most authentic words for me are these:

She lived fully.

I think of Jesus’s words: “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.”—John 10:10 (NIV)

I think of the quote on my therapist’s website: “The glory of God is a human being fully alive.” *

I think of the jagged edges and winding paths of my life. It’s only from the perspective of age that I can look back and see that I’ve lived a LOT. I’ve tried a lot of different things. I’ve ventured into a lot of unknown territory. I’ve learned a lot. I’ve traveled a lot. I’ve had the privilege of editing some amazing authors. I’ve also hurt a lot. But even during those times, I’ve met some incredible souls who loved and helped me along the way.

I know I’ve had a deep, rich, full life. And I’m thankful to (finally!) be in a place where I can claim it and be grateful for all of it. And be eager to discover more of who I am becoming.

Regardless of your current age, I invite you to consider this question: What might you want people to read on your tombstone? How would you want people to remember you?

—Marcia Broucek, graphic designer for Narrative Alive

I welcome your comments about my reflections. If you have anything you want to share about your journey, I invite you to share your experience in the Comments field below.

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* “The glory of God is a human being fully alive”(Latin: Gloria enim Dei vivens homo) is attributed to St. Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 130–202 AD).

Click here to read more of Marcia’s blog posts.

Click here to see the Narrative Alive graphics and sermon themes for the Narrative Lectionary reading “The Crucified Messiah.”