Funeral sermon for a
lovely Christian woman and a good friend
Names have been
changed as an expression of care for the family
I
mentioned it to Dana when I saw her that day. We knew she was dying and that
she didn’t have long. Although I regularly thanked her and encouraged her for
all she did here, I told her that day that I wanted to formally say “thank you”
on behalf of everyone at Saint Mary’s for the immense contribution she had made
to the life and growth of this church.
“Oh,”
she said, “I haven’t really done that much.” So I ran through the list I had
made in my mind. She looked genuinely and pleasantly surprised. “Oh,” she said,
looking over her glasses in that slightly disarming way she had; “I suppose now
you mention it, that is quite a bit.”
It
may be that she was just becoming a little tired and forgetful as her illness
progressed, but I don’t think so. I think it was genuine humility. She really
hadn’t ever calculated the sum total of the investment of her life here. She
gave of herself gladly, without expecting any applause and she did that
because, above everything else, she loved the Lord. She loved the Lord.
So
when Dana died, and I asked God what passage of the Bible I should speak on at
the funeral, my mind immediately jumped to this story in John’s gospel when
Jesus looks at Peter and asks “Do you love me?”
It’s
one of the shortest conversations recorded in the New Testament and also I
think one of the most moving.
It’s
situated after the resurrection. Peter and the others have already seen Jesus
alive. There have been several appearances. But several days have gone by. He’s
no longer with them all the time. Everything has changed. They’re at a
crossroads. So now what? And Peter finds himself right back where he had
started three years beforehand, when Jesus first met him on the shores of the
same lake.
So
now what? Peter says “I’m going fishing.” It’s what he used to do of course
before he met Jesus. So Peter goes back in time, he turns the clock back and
returns to what is familiar.
Most
of us, especially as we get older, tend to like the old ways best. Some
Christians hanker after the traditions and familiarity of previous times. They
want to use archaic language or have everyone sit on ancient, uncomfortable
furniture, or just do things in a way that people outside the church cannot
relate to.
Dana
was absolutely not of their number. She was a champion for leaving the past
behind. She wanted a church that is relevant and contemporary. She had an
instinctive impatience for anything stuffy or sanctimonious. She was great to
have on the worship committee (and that’s another role she had here that I didn’t
mention earlier) – but she was great on that because she was imaginative
creative, and open to new ideas.
Anyway,
the story tells us that Peter and the others went out all night in their boat,
which was the best time to catch fish, but they caught nothing.
So
our story starts in darkness and failure. Darkness and failure - two words that
describe the way this church was a couple of decades ago. When Dana first
worshipped here, services used to attract just a handful of shivering souls
huddled in the choir stalls. There was very little going on midweek, hardly any
involvement with the community or the school. There was an air of despondency
and spiritual darkness.
But
our story doesn’t stay in darkness. It moves through dawn into daylight and, as
it does so, the presence of Jesus - at first completely obscured - becomes
first indistinct and then clear.
Darkness
to dawn to daylight is a progression that mirrors the growth of this church
during Dana’s involvement with it. Saint Mary’s has become spiritually
brighter. People are coming to Christ and growing in faith. The church is out
in the community. The presence and power of Jesus are more and more evident.
All
glory to God for that. But we are grateful that he used Dana so wonderfully in
the story of the spiritual renewal of Saint Mary’s.
Well,
you know the story. Jesus, about 100 yards away, calls out to throw the nets
from the other side of the boat. If ever you see a man with a rod and line, go
up and give him some free advice on how he ought to be doing it and see how
thrilled he is that you did so! But Peter and the others do what he says and
there is a miraculous haul.
I
don’t know which is the greater miracle; that they landed such a big catch or
that they didn’t tell this stranger with his free advice to get lost.
Peter
gets dressed and jumps in the water. It’s a strange thing to do. We’d normally
take our outer clothes off to jump in the water. Why would Peter do that? Maybe
he just didn’t want to face the music with Jesus dressed in a loincloth.
I
say face the music, and of course it was an awkward moment between them. Peter
had denied Jesus a few days or weeks earlier.
So
I wanted to share some thoughts about this conversation between Jesus and
Peter.
There’s
a charcoal fire on the beach. The only other time such a fire is mentioned in
the New Testament is when Peter denied Jesus. He was trying to keep warm by a
charcoal fire. Then, three times he disowned Jesus, denying having any
connection with him. Now, in place of three denials, there are three questions.
“Do you love me?”
About
a month before she died, I shared with Dana something I had read that morning
which really struck me. It was written by a man on the eve of major surgery for
cancer. This is what it said:
“Satan
designs to destroy my love for Christ. God designs to deepen my love for
Christ. Cancer does not win if I die. Cancer wins if I fail to cherish Christ.”
She
thought about it for a minute. And then she looked at me straight in the eye
and said she agreed.
I
have no doubt that Dana would answer that question from Jesus - “Do you love
me?” - in the affirmative every time.
"Dana,
I’m sorry, but it’s acute myeloid leukaemia - but even so, do you love
me?"
"Lord,
you know I love you."
"Dana,
I’m very sorry, but the treatment is tough and it’s going to be arduous - but
even if it is, do you love me?"
"Lord,
you know I love you."
"Dana,
I’m really sorry, but there’s been yet another setback - but even so, do you
love me?"
"Lord,
you know I love you."
"Dana,
I’m so sorry, I’m afraid we can’t treat you, you’re not going to get better –
but do you love me?"
"Lord,
you know everything. You know I love you."
"Then
feed my sheep." Jesus will entrust to you what is most precious to him
when he is sure of the one thing that really counts most – do you love him?
Dana
has been taken from our lives, and our emotional pain is very great. And just
as it can take a long time to recover from an operation, so it takes a long
time to recover from the “emotional surgery” of a loved one’s death.
In
fact, we may never really be the same again; those of us who were particularly
close to Dana will continue to miss her until the reunion in heaven.
But
when we know Christ, and love him, the sting of death is softened. Only Christians,
like Dana, can say “to live is Christ – to die is gain.”
Farewell
Dana, until we meet again.
Sermon
preached at Saint Mary's Long Newton, 11th December 2013
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