Remembering for All the Saints: Post 1
The following is the first guest post as a part of the Remembering for All the Saints series - a series of posts on pastoral and theological reactions to Alzheimer's and other forms of dementia in observence of All Saints' Day.
This post is from Art Ruch, a Methodist layman and occassional lay preacher, who hails from my old stomping grounds in Middle Tennessee.
Bill* was recognized by the pastor during our time of "sharing joys and concerns". Bill stood and began to speak but he did not ask for prayer. Instead, he spoke about... jet fuel.
Bill had been a successful man. He was well-educated, had held an enviable job at the local Air Force base and had a seemingly happy marriage and loving children. But in late middle age, Bill was afflicted with Alzheimer's disease and became unable to perform his job. His marriage eventually failed and he became estranged from his children as well.
By the time I first met Bill, he rarely spoke coherently, required full time care by his second wife and could no longer drive. Yet Bill always attended the worship service. He could not sing in the choir or teach a Sunday School class. He could not serve on a committee or vote in a council meeting. But still he came to church and, on this particular day, he wanted to share something. He wanted to participate.
The pastor ignored Bill's outburst, immediately recognized someone else and the service continued. This had become a pattern. So many had warmly greeted Bill only to receive a blank stare - so they ignored him. Others found themselves in conversations they did not understand - so they ignored him. Some were frightened of or uncomfortable with Bill - so they ignored him.
Are those who cannot be of service to others somehow lesser children of God? Do those whose afflictions make us uncomfortable have no value? Are we relieved of any duty or responsibility to them? Are we to ignore them?
In some ways, those like Bill are gone from us just as those we usually remember on All Saint's Day. Many of them can no longer interact with us, they cannot serve in the church or the community in any significant way. But in one very important way, they are profoundly different than those who have gone on to God's glory: they remain with us physically - living, breathing and existing. And, just possibly, thinking and feeling as we do. Those with Alzheimer's disease and dementia of any type often lose the ability to express themselves and therefore those around them sometimes ignore them. So for people like Bill, one of the most basic human needs is not being met: the need for human interaction. Perhaps it is appropriate that we remember them but we can do much more than that. We can choose to not ignore them.
Stanley Hauerwas wrote that "All men have a significance beyond what they can be for us - our friend, our playmate, our brother; each of us is precious and significant because his being is grounded in God's care. The retarded the poor, the sick, are particularly intense forms of God's call to every man through the other. God calls us to regard each other as significant as we each exist in him, as we are each God's gift to the other." Hauerwas wrote those words in an essay on the Christian's proper response to our mentally retarded brothers and sisters but I think his words can apply equally well to those with neurodegenerative disease.
Today, Bill no longer comes to the church. He cannot. He is confined to a bed in a nursing home. He does not speak and requires assistance eating, bathing and dressing. His family doesn't visit him. But once a month, the Church comes to him. Holy Communion is brought, hymns are sung and scripture is read to Bill and his fellow residents in the home. Some participate joyously and some do not. Some may not comprehend what we are doing there but I like to think that, at the very least, they know they are not ignored.
*"Bill" is a composite character.
Other posts in the series:
* Remebering for All the Saints: An Introduction to the series, posted by Pastor David.






