Oaks Muxbow

My sister-in-law emailed me this morning with these words: "Oaks Muxbow died last night." I read those words and my heart just ached; it aches still.

Oaks Muxbow (yeah, I know, with that name he was either going to get beat up a lot or be the next Sufjan Stephens) was the 10-month old fourth child of a family that my sister-in-law is very close to. About a week and a half ago, a terrible accident occurred at the Muxbow home that left little Oaks on life support. Despite the best efforts of the medical team around him and the prayers of thousands, Oaks died.

In the midst of my own heartbreak over this news, I quickly emailed my sister-in-law back with these words: "I hate this broken world." I'm still in that place right now and I can only imagine what his parents and siblings are experiencing. The words of the author of the 88th psalm seem to sum things up well: "...my eyes are dim with grief...darkness is my closest friend."

Where is the hope when a child dies? I don't know. Theologians say that we are living in the middle of the two Advents. The first being the incarnation--God coming in flesh in the person of Jesus to announce that the Kingdom was beginning to reign. The second Advent, we are told, is when Christ will come again and usher in the fullness of that Kingdom. The promise of this second Advent is that everything that is wrong will be set right: no more wars, no more liberal and conservative, no more AIDS pandemic, no more 10-month olds on life support.

Sigh. I believe this promise even if I don't feel it right now. Right now it feels empty; like your parents telling you as a five-year old that one day you'll be able to drive. It seems impossibly far off and what good does it do you now?

"Faith is standing in the darkness and a hand is there, and we take it."
--Frederick Buechner, The Magnificent Defeat

"Faith is a footbridge that you don't know will hold you up over the chasm until you're forced to walk out onto it. I'm standing there now, over the chasm."
--Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son

The following prayer is from the Presbyterian Book of Common Worship. I pray it for Oaks.

Oaks Muxbow, our brother in the faith,
we entrust you to God who created you.
May you return to the one who formed us out of the dust of the earth.
Surrounded by the great cloud of witnesses beyond all time and space,
may Christ come to meet you
as you go forth from this life.

May Christ, the Lord of glory,
who was crucified for you,
bring you freedom and peace.

May Christ, the Hight Priest,
who has forgiven all your sins,
keep you among his people.

May Christ, the Son of God,
who died for you,
show you the glories of his eternal kingdom.

May Christ, the Good Shepherd,
enfold you with his tender care.
May you see your Redeemer face to face
and enjoy the sight of God for ever.
Amen.