No Doubts, No Regrets

The Rev. Dr. Skip Ferguson

Manassas Presbyterian Church

Manassas, Virginia

September 25, 2016

No Doubts, No Regrets

Selected Texts

“The most common emotion they express is regret;

regret that they never took the time to mend

broken friendships and relationships;

regret that they never told their friends and family

how much they care;

regret that they are going to be remembered

by their children

as hypercritical mothers

or exacting, authoritarian fathers.”

A prominent physician who has for many years

worked with the elderly

and those nearing the end of their lives,

wrote these words recently

in an article in the New York Times.

He was writing about the power of regret;

the draining, consuming power

that hollows us out from the inside

from pain that burns deep within.

Regret for things said;

Regret for things not said;

Regret for things done;

Regret for things not done.

The physician realized

that he was dealing with emotion

at its deepest and most profound,

where the medicine and science he knew so well

were of little use.

So he and his colleagues

at the Stanford Medical School

created what they call,

“The Last Letter Project” to address the needs

that they found to be so clear,

so obvious,

needs they kept finding,

in patient after patient.

What they proposed in their project

is that a person write a letter,

write words to loved ones,

family and friends,

write them while they are still healthy,

write them to express them;

express feelings, emotions,

words that may well have gone unsaid,

so there are no regrets,

so there is no doubt

with either the sender or the recipients.

We pastors deal with death

as frequently as medical professionals.

We are acutely aware of those words we speak

each year on Ash Wednesday:

“Remember you are dust and

and to dust you will return.”

And we, probably more than physicians,

hear words of regret,

words of anguish,

words of sorrow,

of lost opportunities

from people as they age,

as they near the end of their lives.

Regret is such a short word,

yet it is packed with such power;

a word not so much explosive

as it is searing, burning,

emotion that melts us from our very core.

I saw my grandfather and father

caught in a web of regret

as my grandfather approached the end of his life

from a cerebral hemorrhage

more than 30 years ago.

My grandfather and I were very close

and I knew he had never said to his son,

“I’m proud of you.”

On the contrary,

my grandfather was always quick

to point out to my father his mistakes,

his failures, his faults.

My father wanted so badly to hear his father

say those words, just once, before he died:

“I’m proud of you.”

But the hemorrhage had hit my grandfather

like a stroke and destroyed his ability to speak,

he was unable to utter a word;

he was unable to communicate in any way.

I suspect my grandfather knew

my father wanted, indeed needed,

to hear those words,

and I suspect my grandfather

wanted to say those words.

But his stilled tongue had closed the door,

leaving father and son filled with regret.

Father-son relationships certainly

aren’t the only ones that struggle with regret—

mother-daughter, brother-sister,

any relationship.

But they seem to be particularly fraught.

The movie “I Never Sang For My Father”

produced back in 1970,

with Gene Hackman and Melvyn Douglas,

explores those issues:

a son estranged from his father,

feeling like he had never measured up,

the two pulled together,

almost unwillingly,

as the father aged,

slipped into dementia

and then finally died,

without words of affection,

pride,

love,

passing between the two,

father to son,

and son to father.

And as Hackman’s character says

at the end of the movie,

“Death doesn’t end a relationship.”

For the one who lives on,

the feelings are still there,

regret still burning, churning.

Last week I mentioned the story of the Prodigal Son,

the story Jesus tells in Luke’s gospel:

the wastrel son who comes back to his father

seeking nothing,

but finding a fulsome, joyous, welcome,

a welcome from his father

so overflowing with love

that the young man must have been

almost embarrassed by its excess.

We tend in that story to focus on the father

and the younger, wastrel son,

but we cannot overlook the older brother.

In Rembrandt’s famous painting

that hangs in the Hermitage Museum

in St. Petersburg Russia,

the older brother stands at the light’s edge,

stern, silent, disapproving,

so clearly filled with anger and resentment.

We look at that brother in the painting

and we want to say to him:

“Forgive”,

“Reconcile”,

“Welcome”:

Hear God’s word to you:

“just as the Lord has forgiven you,

so you also must forgive.

And above all, clothe yourself with love,

which binds everything together in perfect harmony.

And let the peace of Christ rule in your heart.”

(Colossians 3:13)

        

Forgive.

Reconcile.

Welcome.

Aren’t these all things our Lord teaches us?

Aren’t these what can chase way

even the wisps of regret?

The Last Letter project,

secular though it is,

can help us to focus,

focus on forgiveness

on reconciliation,

on love.

The first thing to do, the authors advise, is

“acknowledge the important people in your life.”

Acknowledge your spouse, partner,

parents,

children,

sisters, brothers,

friends.

Acknowledge them as people

who have made a difference in your life,

enriched your life in ways small or large,

that your life has been richer for their presence,

and your life would have been so much poorer

without them.

Acknowledge them with the abandon

of the prodigal’s father.

Second:

“Remember treasured moments from your life.”

We all have special memories, special moments:

Birthdays, graduations, weddings,

the birth of children, grandchildren;

perhaps you were part of a team

that won a championship.

Those moments tell our stories,

and they invariably involve others,

family, friends, community,

those you need to acknowledge;

for what moments are worth remembering

without family,

without friends?

Third:

“Apologize”

recognize where you have hurt someone,

caused them pain,

and then apologize.

Why do we find it so hard to say, “I’m sorry”?

Why do we find it so much easier to deny blame,

responsibility?

Even shift the blame: “they started it.”

Do you see what that is – that’s pride,

and how many times does God

warn us of the danger of pride:

“Pride only breeds quarrels”

(Proverbs 13:10)

“First pride, then the crash”

(Proverbs 16:18)

Apologize.

Getting the words out may be difficult,

but the effect can be transformative.

Imagine if the two brothers,

the bitter, angry, older brother

and the humbled, humiliated prodigal brother

had apologized to each other,

and then embraced,

imagine what their life

would have been like afterward.

Fourth:

“Forgive.”

Who among us hasn’t been offended,

humiliated,

injured,

lied to,

stolen from,

hurt by someone.

We have all had someone do something,

someone say something

that hurt so deeply.

Perhaps it was something

someone failed to say,

failed to do,

a promise made,

a promise broken.

Forgive.

Don’t wait for the apology.

Yale theologian Miraslov Wolf has written,

“Forgiveness is the beginning of a

transformational relationship.

It is the beginning of reconciliation.

It is what it means to be a follower of Jesus Christ

It doesn’t just relieve us from

bitterness and resentment,

it enacts love.”

God models forgiveness

and shows us the way:

Speaking through the prophet

God said,

“I will forgive their iniquity

and remember their sin no more.”

(Jeremiah 31:34)

And, as you are forgiving others,

“forgive yourself.”

Who among us hasn’t a long list of things

we wish we had not done,

had not said,

things that we’ve carried,

perhaps for years.

Forgive yourself,

Let go,

give it to God.

and God will take away our pain.

Happy are those whose transgression

is forgiven,

whose sin is covered.

Happy are those to whom the Lord

imputes no iniquity,

and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

While I kept silence, my body wasted away

through my groaning all day long.

… my strength was dried up

as by the heat of summer.

Then I acknowledged my sin to you,

and I did not hide my iniquity;
I said, “I will confess my transgressions

to the Lord,”
and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

Therefore let all who are faithful

offer prayer to you.

(Psalm 32:1-6)

Finally, close your letter

with genuine expressions of gratitude and love,

purposely, readily, eagerly.

It is as simple as “Thank you”

and “I love you,”

words simple, clear, direct,

hardly poetic,

but yet with the poet’s power

of touching our deepest emotions.

The one quibble I have with the physicians

who put this idea together

is that they called it a “Life Review” letter,

a “Last Letter.”

I understand why,

but still, I’d like to think of it

simply as a “Life” letter,

even a “Love” letter,

something we could,

something we should write anytime

to enhance our lives,

enrich our lives

and those we love.

As Paul taught us,

“Faith, hope and love abide,

and the greatest of these is love,

for love never ends.”

(1 Corinthians 13:8ff)

Express that emotion in a letter

so that you and those you love

will have no doubts,

no regrets.

AMEN

The Life Letter Project website can be found at:

http://www.med.stanford.edu/letter/friendsandfamily.html