Many years ago I was asked to give a dying woman ‘Last Rites’. I am a Mormon, and in this church some men are entitled, indeed required, to do this when asked or moved to do so. If you are not religious, or have a certain animus toward Mormons, you are excused. I wrote this story soon after it happened so as to never forget. Reading it just now, I had to get a tissue to blot my eyes. I can’t recite it church, I get way too emotional. Marianne Shlisher was actively passing through the Veil. She only had one hand holding onto mortality. People wanted her on the other side. This act of mine convinced me of life after death in a most personal way. I needed convincing at the time. I don’t anymore. I am certain we go on, and I have no fear of the event. I lost this story in my computer for a while and had to have Aaron search it out for me. This time I will publish it in my blog ‘Slicesdotlive@wordpress.com’.
What is Priesthood Authority? It is the power to act for God on the earth. When you join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, this is explained to you, but, unfortunately, it is very difficult concept to believe and accept. I think many never do accept and consequently never have the gift. However, many of us have been given an experience that shakes us to the core and forever convinces us.
MARIANNE SHLISHER
On the short drive over to the Shlisher’s apartment, I was filled with…what? Dread? Fear? No. I turned to Cheryl and told her, “I am totally inadequate for this. I am not a spiritual man. I have no experience with this sort of thing. I haven’t done it before. I am not worthy to do this.” Cheryl, of course, was filled with….confidence? She always has great confidence in what I can do. “She asked for you. You have to go.” But, I could see a little shadow cross her eyes.
I had known Marianne Shlisher for many years, from way before I joined the church. She was a member, I wasn’t, but I attended services occasionally, and was acquainted with a lot of members, just not very well. Sister Shlisher had gone inactive at some point a few years ago. I found her one day when I was out with the missionaries (I had finally joined the church.), living in a retirement complex with her ex husband. They had gotten divorced so that they could live together in the apartment, for if they were married they could not get assistance. Brother Shlisher was not a member and Sister Shlisher had quit going to church because she and her ex were living in sin. We talked with her a lot about this and the church, and after a few months of reassurance she started attending again.
When Sister Shlisher came back, I had been a member for a couple of years and was the Sunday School President. She enjoyed being back in the ward. Her husband, Gene, even came sometimes. A few months went by. I was abruptly called to be Elder’s Quorum President, and Sister Shlisher became ill. It turned out she had cancer. Soon, she was hospitalized and in the care of the Relief Society. But, it was no good. Cheryl was visiting her one-day when Marianne told her she was going to die soon. Cheryl said, “Yes, I know. It’s going to be a wonderful experience.” Marianne’s daughter, not a member, happened to be there and was appalled. I understood. Dying is the second big adventure of mortality, birth being the first. Marianne said she wanted to go home and die in peace.
That was arranged. She was made comfortable at home. A hospice nurse came by to help, Gene was there, and so was her daughter. I don’t remember who called me, but Marianne had a request. She wanted to take the sacrament one last time. She wanted me to bless it, and then bless her, one last time. Doubts assailed me. Why me? Why would this women call on me to send her through the Veil? Knowing my own history entirely too well, I simply could not believe I was worthy to do this. But, as Cheryl said, “She asked for you. You have to go.”
It only takes four minutes to drive from our house to the retirement apartments. I tried to compose myself. I didn’t want to choke up and ruin it, whatever it turned out to be. I couldn’t rehearse what I was going to say, I couldn’t even think about it. I am normally pretty calm in emergencies. This definitely classified as an emergency, at least to me. But now, my heart fluttered and my fingers trembled. I was frightened.
I had to go. She asked for me. We walked up to the apartment and knocked. It was full of people: Marianne’s relatives, Gene’s relatives, two missionaries, Brother and Sister Day, Brother and Sister Martin, and Marianne. She was on a hospital style bed in the dining room, barely enough room to move around. She was unconscious. The air smelled of death. Cheryl had brought things to do the sacrament, but it was apparent that Marianne was not going to drink or eat anything. I would have to make do, or not do it all.
I thought to ask for help from the Elders, but they were clearly in no condition to assist. Besides, there was no room for two to kneel together. So, after just a little small talk, I placed my scriptures on a chair with the bread and water and kneeled in front of it. Marianne woke up a little. I blessed the bread, and taking the tiniest of pieces, placed it between her lips. Cheryl thought later that I should have given her more; she couldn’t even see the piece. But Marianne wouldn’t have been able to swallow it. I blessed the water, and wet her lips with it. Now she was ready for her blessing.
I stood at the foot of the bed and looked at the brethren standing around the head. In my doubts, I asked Brother Day if he would like to give Marianne her blessing. Brother Day is a High Priest and very experienced. He said softly, “No, no. I think you had better do it.” So, this was it then. I worked my way around, and with two brethren on each side; I took a deep breath and placed my hands on Marianne’s head. Other hands were placed on mine.
I started: “Marianne Shlisher, by the authority of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood which we hold, we lay our hands upon your head and give you this blessing….” From that point on, I remember nothing of what I said. I do remember thinking about the veil. Seeing the veil as if backlit. Shining. And feeling a great wonder at what lay behind. Anticipating the experience of passing through and beyond. I remember speaking clearly. I remember tears running down my face.
Apparently, I finished, and my surroundings swam into my awareness. I saw that everyone was crying. I had to sit down. I felt hollowed out and weak. That Someone had used me for a speaking tube. I had to leave the room, the apartment, right then, no staying to visit. When we were safely driving home, I asked Cheryl what I said. She couldn’t really tell me the exact words, but she assured me it was good. It was good. It was exactly what the Lord wanted Marianne to hear. It was what He wanted the others to hear.
He made Priesthood Power clear to me.
I wish I could remember what I said.
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