“You shall not be afraid of any terror by night, nor of the arrow that flies by day.” (Psalm 91:5)

Over the past year, numerous friends of mine have died. Some of the deaths were expected, and some were unexpected. In each case, I have felt the sting of death.

My friend Llewelyn Heigham was a dear friend and mentor who showed me how to love a congregation. He wasn’t perfect, and he was more than a little bit eccentric. He looked like a cross between King Lear and Archbishop Rowan Williams, and he was a poetic man who radiated joy and love. I knew he was dying, but his loss still stung me. I thought to myself, “There goes another piece of me. There goes a great soul back to God.”

My friend Rod Wiltse died this year. I knew he wasn’t in the best health, but I thought he would live for a few more years. He taught me about prayer and a love of liturgy. I thought to myself, “Another dear friend has gone and left me. What am I to do?”

Two weeks ago my dear friend Jack Foshage died. He died suddenly of the flu. I had no inkling that he would be gone so soon. I had just seen him a week before in St. Louis. I cried tears of lament. I wondered where God was in the midst of all my sorrow and loss.

Jack had a way of making me laugh at the absurd corners of our lives. He could be joyful, sad, stoic, and numinous all within the same minute, and he could make me feel alive and surrounded by beauty and spirit even when darkness and death loomed nearby.

We all know that death is part of life, but knowing this fact in our head doesn’t make the loss any easier. Death stings each time a friend or family member dies, and sorrow attends to us and cloaks us with its reality. I wish I could forget all of the death that clings so closely, but sorrow is a part of life.

A person who does not suffer sorrow is but a child without depth. We know that in our lives we must touch death honestly and closely if we are to become the people we are truly called to be. I wish I could sail through life without ever suffering, but that is not what God promises any of us; rather, God offers his presence and love in our time of sadness and sorrow.

Jesus continually tells his disciple that I will be with you, and fear not. I will be with you even as I hang on the cross. Jesus knew that our lives are made full when we can stand with courage and love at the foot of his cross and attend with love and faithfulness to all of the parts of our life. I take with me the great gifts of love, faith, and joy that my friends gave me in their lives, and I sit with the sadness of their deaths as well. I know that God is present in the midst of both life and death, in the midst of both joy and sadness.

“God shall cover you with his pinions, and you shall find refuge under his wings; his faithfulness shall be a shield and buckler.” (Psalm 91:4)

Father Robert Ard, Holy Cross Episcopal Church