Rector’s Ramblings – November 21, 2024

I recently changed vehicles, saying goodbye to my large and thirsty SUV in favor of a
very efficient car: a plug-in hybrid sedan. My decision to make the switch was really
driven (pun not intended but noted) by two things. First, my growing unease with driving
a vehicle that consumed so much fuel despite typically carrying one passenger, and the
growing cost of ownership – fuel and upcoming repairs. I loved my SUV, and I had
nearly 200,000 miles on it – just a fraction of what is possible with that particular V-8
motor. At sixteen and half years old, the motor’s longevity was not my only concern,
however. While the motor might make it a half a million miles, various parts and some
important systems would need replaced simply because of age.

I belonged to a few Facebook groups for owners of that particular SUV, so I knew what
repairs were coming. The timing belt and water pump were due for scheduled
replacement. The valve cover gaskets and the rear main seal were beginning to weep.
The front CV axles needed replaced. I am pretty sure I didn’t have long on my brake
calipers, especially the rears, as I cooked them a bit a few years ago dragging the
brakes when towing it down the mountain into Yosemite. A little incident after a long trip
last Christmas reminded me they needed attention before too long. And those were just
the things I knew I needed to be addressing relatively soon. All of it was within my
scope of ability, yet was still going to be expensive, and would have exceeded the
vehicles value. And truthfully, as much as I like working on my own cars, all those jobs
would certainly have induced headaches, too.

When I sat down to calculate the “cost to own” for that truck and the car I ended up
choosing, it became an easy choice. Yes, the newer vehicle will cost more over the next
four years, but most of its cost is absorbed by the high fuel and repair expenditures, and
the equity at the end of the period is radically different, too. In addition to the financial
realities, using 90% less fuel and what should be relatively headache-free ownership
sealed the deal. So far, I have been affirmed in my choice. I don’t really miss the larger
vehicle, and it’s been really nice to realize 120 mpg in the first 1500 miles of driving. I
only wish all such decisions were so easily arrived at.

In a recent Hospice meeting I was reminded what a difficult choice it can be to decide
when to enter into end of life care. Our bodies age, just like cars, and as we age, we
pick up diagnoses because some of our systems don’t work the way they once did.
Sometimes we have parts that go bad. And even if we’re relatively healthy, there are
some terrible illnesses that upend everything we had expected, which suddenly bring
our mortality into focus and make it appear a lot closer than it did for most of our lives.
We all know that at some point we will breathe our last. Despite our faith in what comes
next, however, it’s still a sobering and challenging reality to confront.

When we are facing our mortality in very specific ways, maybe because a doctor has
told us how serious things are, there are usually some choices. It may be a choice
between treatments, or it could be a choice between treatment or not. While the world of
medicine has bell curves, it does not have crystal balls. Sometimes, doctors are reticent
to suggest a timeframe for a prognosis as a result. Veterinarians seem to be less so, as
we’ve had vets tell us it was time for both of our first two dogs. But with humans, those

clear messages seem to be rarer. I know why; it’s not easy to tell someone that it’s time
to truly and finally embrace their death. We spend our lives taking medicine and
receiving treatment so that we can be healthy and extend our lives, so it’s literally a
complete turn-around entertain a different way of thinking. Many doctors struggle with
that moment. Their training is to extend life, in the most basic sense.

We rarely have clear analytics when we face such choices. It’s not as easy as it is with a
car, where we can calculate the various costs and determine if the value is there to
make the repairs. Our lives are priceless, so cost isn’t typically the question. In such
times we are dealing with realities beyond the measures of this world. These moments
are spiritual moments more than practical ones. The measuring of days, weeks, and
months is very different than anything else we might try to measure. Because our lives
are so full of love, we’re not exactly eager to waste any moment of them.

The question should shift to quality at some point, though. Modern medicine can extend
life in incredible ways – sometimes to the extent that it is literally labeled miraculous.
Ask a person whose had a quadruple bypass, for example. Or someone who has had
the risky surgery and the chemo that followed it and has celebrated being out on the
sliding side of the bell curve. Nonetheless, there comes a time when there really aren’t
good options for extending life with any quality. In those cases, we must choose
whether we undergo procedures and treatment at all costs, physical, emotional, and
spiritual included, to carve out what may represent a comparatively small gain in
lifespan. Or do we focus on making the most of the time we have left with as little
discomfort as possible?

I haven’t had to make that kind of decision for myself or someone I love, but I have been
with countless families who have faced such choices. In most cases, I would say we’re
measuring in weeks before the typical decision is finally made. Granted, there are cases
where there are only weeks from diagnosis to mortality, but those instances are
blessedly rare. Instead, it’s typically our best intentions to treat whatever the presenting
problem is, if for no other reason than to see where things stand afterwards, in the
hopes that another outcome will come to fruition. Eventually, however, we all get there.
When we do, I’m glad we have options like hospice care to being comfort to patients
and families who face those final chapters. I’m also aware that no one has ever told me
that they wished they had waited to enter hospice care. By contrast, I’ve heard the

opposite more times than I can count.

I don’t want anyone to give up or give in or choose not to fight when they face a health
crisis. Not at all. I also grieve to watch the struggle and the pain that can come with
never-ending treatments and toll they can take on a person and their loved ones. On

some level, our faith is informative in these moments, if we are attuned to what it can
offer. We proclaim first and foremost the life that we find in the resurrection of Jesus.
Knowing that we have an eternal life doesn’t make us automatically ready to leave this
world, any more than that knowledge takes away the grief when we lose a loved one.
They may be enjoying the fruits of their faith, but we miss them terribly. As it should be.

The recent story of Lazarus in the lectionary reminds us that even Jesus, who had and

used the power to break the bonds of death for his friend, experienced grief at the loss
of a loved one.

Our faith doesn’t make hard choices easy, but it can make them a little easier,
remembering that God wants life and health and goodness for us. It is also worth
remembering the words that will be said at our funeral as we ponder our last days: “you
were formed of the earth, and to earth you will return.” We will all die, as it has been
designed. Understanding that, and the promise of life on the other side of our death can
reshape our lives, not only as we consider the final moments, but every day that we get
to spend in this world. We don’t have to fear death because we’re already dead…and
yet we live.

I wish it were as simple as using the metaphor of the new car to suggest that we should
let go of these mortal bodies with ease because there’s something new and shiny
waiting for us. That’s true, in the broadest sense, but it’s not at all the same, either. Or
maybe it’s closer to the reality than we can imagine? Who knows. All I want to say today
through all of this pondering is that when we face these moments we must strive to be
brave, be grateful, and be faithful, and trust that there is no right answer. Whatever we
choose, we God goes with us, and that’s a gift without measure.

Tom+

Direct us, O Lord, in all our doings with thy most gracious
favor, and further us with thy continual help; that in all our
works begun, continued, and ended in thee, we may glorify
thy holy Name, and finally, by thy mercy, obtain everlasting
life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.