I have seen water move rocks. I have seen thistles break through boulders. If water and flowers can move stones, surely love can. Becca Stevens, from Funeral for a Stranger In this meditation on living and dying, Becca Stevens shares moving and hilarious stories about her life, love, friends, and our many families. This delicately formed narrative is also a window into the soul of a priest. I loved it and will hold it in my heart with gratitude for years to come. -Phyllis Tickle, author of The Great Emergence: How Christianity Is Changing and Why Loneliness finds connections, depair meets celebration, and fear discovers faith. Join Becca on her journey to a funeral for a stranger. God will be there. -Don Schlitz, Hall of Fame songwriter of The Gambler With elegant simplicity Becca Stevens escorts the reader to the banks of the deepest spiritual wellspring. Surely she ranks among our most gifted teachers on the things that matter most of all. -Stephen Bauman, author of Simple Truths: On Values, Civility, and Our Common Good Poignant anecdotes, musings, stories, and theological insights on life and love Becca Stevens books have grown out of her work as chaplain of St. Augustine's Chapel at Vanderbilt University, and as founder and director of Magdalene, a residential community for women with a criminal history of drug abuse and prostitution. Her work with Magdalene has earned national attention and spawned both a cottage industry, Thistle Farms, and related programs here and overseas. To date, she has raised nearly $13 million and gained nationwide press coverage for the organizations she supports. She has won numerous awards from organizations including the Frist Foundation and the Academy of Women in Achievement. She has been named the "Alumnus of the Year" by the School of Theology at the University of the South, "Nashvillian of the Year" by the Nashville Scene and "Tennessean of the Year" by The Tennessean. In October 2011, she was recognized as a "Champion of Change" by the Obama White House. She has written a number of articles, is a widely traveled speaker, and has both a Funeral for a Stranger Thoughts on Life and Love By Becca Stevens Abingdon Press Copyright © 2009 The United Methodist Publishing House All right reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4267-0244-0 Chapter One the call I was the minister for her funeral because I hate to say no. As an Episcopal priest, I'm not obligated to bury people who are not part of my congregation. I had received a message from the family asking me to bury their mother. I had planned to call them back and make a polite excuse, saying I was sorry I couldn't help. Then I was going to give them the number of a United Methodist minister who helps me when I get busy. Before I had time to call them back, though, the minister called me and said he wasn't available. I hate the idea of someone getting left out, especially in crisis, so when the family called again, I just said, "I would love to help." Less than twenty-four hours later, I was driving to the visitation to meet the daughter and regretting my openness to the whole thing. I knew how much energy I had to invest to be present pastorally, and I was feeling the weight of a congregation that needed tending and charitable organizations to manage. I also thought about how the trip across town was going to ruin any hope of seeing my family that night. A wave of guilt washed over me. I wanted to be a good priest and a good mom. Most of the time the two roles complement and inform each other, but sometimes they are in direct conflict. "Okay," I thought resolutely, "I will get there, take some notes on this person whose name I have now totally forgotten, and try to get back home in time for the end of dinner." I am not sure how conversations happen inside my head. They seem to bubble up with possible solutions presenting themselves in the midst of all the information. Then, once I figure out a way to move forward, the conversations rest in peace for awhile. I get that ability from my mom. She raised five children as a single parent while directing a community center. She must have had thousands of conversations in her head while driving between meetings at the office and running children around town. My mom would walk through the front door after work and tell us what was going to happen that evening or the next day. There were never any real discussions or attempts to work out problems as a group. By the time the words came out of her mouth, it was a done deal. Our job was to get in line and carry out the plan so that everything could get done in the shortest amount of time. This is a great example of how I didn't want to be like my mom. Even as I was driving, though, I could see myself running into the house, just as my family was beginning to relax, and delivering the list of orders: begin homework, let the dogs out, turn off the TV "for the love of God," and head toward the dirty dishes