Good idea to move your repy to this section. Thanks for doing that. It is very relevant here.

Glad that the performance went well. I have a friend who when he lost him mother (and his father had already been gone for some time) mentioned that he did feel like an orphan even tho he’s already in his 50s. So yeah, it appears some feel that way even when their parents pass when they are adults.

I was wondering, tho, what the word orphan was in Greek whether it’s the same as how we understand orphan today in English. I “suspect” it may be different. The reason I wonder that is because orphans and widows seemed to be classed in a similar category. It didn’t appear to include parents who lost a child or even a widower, and I wondered why. One thought is that in the older days, the man was the one who took financial responsibility of the family. If a man were to die, then his widow and children could technically be left destitute. That would not happen to a parent who lost a child. Losing a child would not endanger a parent to becoming destitute. However, inheritance didn’t go to the females (neither the wives or the daughters). Similarly with the children, if they lost their father, they could be left destitute. We don’t see it like that now because women these days are bread winners now, too, and can commonly financially support the children without the man. Today women can even manage their own finances separately from the men. So today we think of orphans as being a child who has lost “both” parents. It seems in the older days that “may not” have been so, but only in reference to losing the father or husband since the man’s death could literally mean destitution. If that’s true, then orphans and widows were those who lost either the father or the husband, and thus were left without help. “To visit orphans and widows in their time of trouble” *may* mean to help them out with their needs, not only spiritual or emotional needs, but every day needs as well. If that is the case, then anybody can help them, not only pastors or ministers. For instance helping them could be as simple as helping with groceries or school work or occasional companionship. Or if needed, some articles of clothing or bedding if they’re lacking. Things like that. There’s a passage in James that says,

“15 If a brother or sister is naked and destitute of daily food, 16 and one of you says to them, “Depart in peace, be warmed and filled,” but you do not give them the things which are needed for the body, what does it profit? 17 Thus also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.”

This passage seems to indicate to me that we ought to “do” something, not just “say” something, when we encounter a brother or sister who is destitute of daily food. I wonder if this could be extended to shelter and clothing as well since being “warm” is mentioned. Basically, it seems to be saying, “what good is it if someone is in need, and all you do is say, ‘Good luck, be well!’” That doesn’t really help the person in need. What that person needs is real help. Maybe a nice meal, or some warm clothing. Now I realise we can’t help everyone, but I do think that if many who are able pitch in, then we can help a significant amount of people. I’m sure that even if one person is helped that is significant as well. The story of the Good Samaritan seems to have a similar theme in that the Good Samaritan was the one who actually helped the injured man on the road and didn’t just lean over and ask, “Are you okay?” Anyway, I think you can get my drift here. What I’m also wondering now, tho, is how do we find orphans and widows who could actually use help, but at the same time not to “intrude” or disrespect their privacy. Hmmm.

Interesting story about those composers. Thanks for sharing that. And I do like the idea of prayer. We can always use more of that!

Your last comment,

“It someitmes appears to me that, the more we grieve, the closer we can, if we choose, come to God. I wonder if this is what Jesus meant when he said ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit . . .’”

I think is a good observation. I agree. The other passage I’m reminded of is “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

Thanks again, Andrea, for the great feedback. I am encouraged with the “food for thought.”

Marla

I thought a Blue Christmas service was a wonderful way to care for the bereaved as it was that essential spiritual care that is so often lacking, especially at Christmas. It wasn’t depressing (although some people stayed away because they feared it would be), but very comforting.

I don’t know how those of us who aren’t pastors could deliver this kind of care, except maybe to alert our own pastors to the possibility if they dont’ already know about it. Although, come to think of it, after 9/11, I filled a bowl with sand and got some candles and we sat around as a family and lit candles for the victims, for missing people, for (I remember my daughter saying) “everyone everywhere.” And it really helped.

You light the candles and put them in the sand. It looks very very pretty. There were of course prayers and songs and a “blue advent wreath” affirming our losses, both of loved ones and of dreams and of relationships, and finally affirming Christ’s presence in everything.

As people were coming in, I play two of my favorite hymns–Precious Lord, Take my Hand, and It is Well with my Soul. Now the interesting thing is that both of these were written after the writer had experienced great, great tragedy.

Thomas Dorsey lost his young wife and firstborn baby–and then wrote Precious Lord. The composer of It is Well lost his wife and 4 daughters in a ship that sank.

It someitmes appears to me that, the more we grieve, the closer we can, if we choose, come to God. I wonder if this is what Jesus meant when he said “Blessed are the poor in spirit . . .”

Andrea