Friend and fellow pastor Jim Harnish put me on to the story of Sarah Winchester, wife of William Wirt Winchester who manufactured the Winchester repeating rifle.  After Sarah’s husband and infant daughter died, Sarah began construction of a house in San Jose, California. If you’ve been to San Jose, you’ve probably heard about this “haunted house.”  There’s more to the story.

With unlimited financial resources, Sarah Winchester hired enough workers to continue construction around the clock, without interruption, for 38 years. The 160 rooms include 40 bedrooms, two ballrooms, 47 fireplaces, 10,000 windows, 17 chimneys and two basements.  It is a maze of confusing corridors with doors that open into walls and stairways that lead nowhere. Tour guides warn visitors not to stray from their group or they may be lost for hours.

What’s behind this haunting tale of excess and upheaval?

Some say Sarah Winchester was trying to elude the ghosts of all the people who had been killed by the Winchester rifle. Others say she believed that as long as construction continued on the house, she could outwit death. But death found her anyway. Construction stopped the day she died in 1922.

Jim Harnish suggests we may not be as rich or as eccentric as Sarah Winchester, but most of us find more subtle, more acceptable ways to try to outwit death. “We avoid honest conversations about some of the most important decisions we will ever make, namely, decisions about how we will come to the end of our lives.”

It’s true, isn’t it?  Until we or someone we love comes to the end of life, we often don’t discuss the need for a written will, a “living will,” designating a health care representative, completing medical directives, or making plans for our funeral. 

Thanks to our Care & Nurture Ministry Team, there is a chance to learn more about these important decisions in a series called, “Living Fully, Dying Well.”  You can find out more about the series HERE.

Easter people don’t have to hide from death the way Sarah Winchester did.  The end of life, whether that life is ours or the life of someone we love, can be frightening.  But we don’t have to face death alone.  The community we call the church is alongside us to prepare in very practical ways, and to assist us when there is nothing more important than to be deeply present with one another.

I hope you’ll be present this summer for “Living Fully, Dying Well” as members, friends, and healthcare professionals share their personal and professional stories that equip us all to build a home that offers hope for our living and our dying.

Shalom,