On terrible suffering and death . . . and our Lord's promises to us! (Todd White funeral)

      I suppose, by way of introduction, I should explain why you are all here today, instead of at a funeral home, remembering your friend, Todd.  First of all, my name is Brian McVey.  I was rector of St. Alban’s Episcopal Church for 8 ½ years, and I was the White’s priest.  OK.  I see a few looks of surprise, but not too many.  Good.  Yes, Todd was an active member of this parish when I served here.  When I say active, of course, I don’t just mean he showed up occasionally.  Todd was one of the manly men, as we liked to joke around here, who made sure food was distributed not just in this neighborhood, but to churches that fed people in Western Illinois, other communities in eastern Iowa, and even southern Wisconsin.  We hold it axiomatic that we never know how far acts of kindness and obedience to God might go, but Todd was one of those men who made sure that thousands of families that suffered from food insecurity, were fed by dragging himself out of bed early on Saturday mornings, come rain or snow or shine.  That was his serious work, as far as I was concerned.

     Todd, though, had a playful streak.  In some ways, he was the kid who never really grew up.  Terri might not remember, but I will probably always picture Todd and John on the roof during waters wars in my mind.  Imagine 60-70 kids running around outside in the field over there, and Todd . . . err, John, armed with a slingshot of sorts and dozens of water balloons.  Everyone is laughing because they know who the real instigator was!  Every time Todd nailed a kid with a slingshotted balloon, he’d high five John and hold his hands out and make that face which Terri loved!  I can see that some of you do it better.  I have not seen it in seven years, so I am a bit out of practice.

     Todd also was a guy who was serious about hospitality.  I have to confess, Terri, I am glad to have learned the reasons behind the bumble bee costume and crazy dancing in your yard.  With Todd, one never knew; and truth be told, I was afraid to ask about it.  LOL.  But Todd would, probably only four days a week, wave at me with a beer as I drove by, usually with my kids on the way home from school, inviting me to stop and have one with him.  He’d fuss from time to time that I never stopped to have beers.  I’d remind Todd I was bringing all my kids home from school and probably getting ready to run to another meeting or something.  Time was my issue.  And Todd had some four-letter words of wisdom about me paying attention to my time.  Of course, when it was serious, Todd would come over to chat in the office.

     So, when I heard from the people I had served in the parish about everything that had happened to the family, I made the offer to come up from my parish in Nashville, assuming the priest’s permission, and celebrate at Todd’s service.  And truthfully, what else could I do?  You have had enough tragedies in your life these last couple months to rival Job.  First Maddie dying.  Then the house fire.  Most everything was lost, especially the memorabilia and your dogs.  Then Todd’s untimely death.  Then the wreck.  Now Terri and the girls find themselves in a strange home, with half the family literally gone, with much of what was familiar gone, and no fawning pups to make it all better.  Terri made the comment this weekend that she felt a bit uncomfortable about the idea of hold a service here because it had been so long.  It has been.  Two weeks will mark seven years that I have been gone.  And a lot happens in seven years.  But, as we all know, a lot more can happen in the blink of an eye.

     Although perhaps Terri and Todd were not keeping good track of those with whom they served in this parish, the parish was certainly keeping track of and praying for them.  As each of these tragedies unfolded, more and more former parishioners reached out to ask me where God was in this mess.  What you visitors do not know, the more to this story, is that the current priest has been battling brain cancer for some time, and only recently decided to cease treatment.  She has fought the good fight, but barring a healing miracle, she will likely lose this life to cancer.  The parish is without their leader, in some ways, and the pastoral care you require needs a leader in their minds.  Part of my job will be to remind us all that we have the Leader and that He will give us what we need to minister to one another, and to the world, in light of such tragedies, trusting in both His promises and power to redeem all suffering, even suffering as seemingly hopeless as this.

     Those of you visiting an Episcopal Church might be a bit surprised by our seating and the symbols you see and, perhaps, unsure what to expect.  I am assuming that some of you are still worried that the roof might collapse at any moment because Terri dropped an f-bomb or three when she spoke of Todd before the service began.  Yes, I know.  And the priest didn’t try and muzzle her or chew her out for her language.  What is happening here?  First of all, this is no longer my church.  If the lightning bolt hits, I don’t have to file the insurance claims.  LOL  More importantly, though, her language, while perhaps not used in polite company too often, spoke to the hopelessness and frustration and anger and bitterness and other unsatisfied emotions we all feel this day about Todd’s untimely death.  Our Lord Christ ministered among fishermen.  As I once reminded Todd when he asked me questions about language, I don’t know many fishermen who speak in “thee, thou, and vouchsafe” language.  Todd laughed at that and told me stories about his fishing buddies.  Don’t worry.  I don’t remember the names.  But if you cringed at the idea of Todd talking to me about you, you could probably still use a good Confession and Absolution, even if not for your language with Todd.  That’s a sermon for another day, though.  Lol.  No, one of the great mistakes a pastor can make with Todd, I found out firsthand, was to teach him that swearing was not a sin.  Watching the elbow nudges and seeing your expressions, I am guessing you experienced Todd’s “earthy” language for yourself.  Sin and manners are different, and earthy language is not always welcome around kids, especially at church, but Todd figured out a way to be himself, to serve God around here, and not teach little kids words they did not need to know too soon.

     As you entered searching for a seat in the back, some of you were disturbed to find out that this is a church in the round.  It is great for services such as this, but no bride in her right mind dreams of walking down that truncated aisle.  Of course, next to Todd’s cremains is the Pascal Candle.  That Candle is lit during the Easter Season, and at other times of the year but especially funerals, reminding all baptized Christians that we are baptized into Christ’s death and Resurrection and empowered by the Holy Spirit to carry His light into a dark world that rejects Him and those who serve Him.  Appropriate for our gathering today, we see one of the signs of Advent, the wreath.  Similar to the Pascal Candle, the Advent wreath reminds us of the Light of Christ entering the darkness of the world.  I serve at an Advent parish now, and I am always reminded and reminding that we look back at the Light who came into the world at Christmas even as we look forward to His promised Return while we remind ourselves of His presence among us.  If ever there was a set of tragedies that needed to be named for their darkness but seen in light of God’s promises, these are they.  Terri and all you who loved Todd, those candles remind us that these evils will be redeemed.  Make no mistake, they will likely not be redeemed in the way we want or as quickly as we want, but they will be redeemed.  As sure as He came out of that tomb when it first appeared the darkness had won and condemned Him to death, one glorious Day, all of this will be like that strawberry we got learning to ride a bike or that fishhook in the fleshy part of our thumb.  But today is not that day.  Today, and for days and weeks and months and years to come, is the time that we carry our hope in Christ into the world that desperately needs to hear and believe.

     And, before I go any further, we need to do a bit of spiritual vaccination.  I hope everyone is used to vaccines now that we are more than eighteen months into a pandemic.  This one should not hurt as much as those.  Terri, first and foremost, this was NOT part of God’s plan.  If anyone tells you that God wanted this to happen to Maddie, to Todd, to you and the kids or even the dogs, tell them to fuck off.  I cannot emphasize enough how much tragedies like this are NOT part of God’s plan.  God’s plan was that we would choose to trust Him and live in full communion with Him.  But we revolted.  We sinned.  And that walking and talking with unfettered access with Him had to stop for our own good.  We brought sin into the world.  We do well to remember that.  Just as we do well to remember that God has promised to redeem all things in our lives, thanks to our faith in the work and person of Jesus Christ.  God had no intention of death.  We know that from the Garden stories and even from Jesus Himself, who weeps and snorts angrily at the death of a friend.  So, never think this the plan.

     You will also hear other nonsense like “it’s for the best,” “he’s in a better place,” and “he’s with his princess now.”  Those who loved Todd know this was not for the best, and the more you loved him, the more you valued him as a friend or buddy, the more painful his absence will seem.  Eucharists such as this are times for us to remind ourselves and one another that we are not without hope, but neither are things the same.  Yes, one day we will see Todd again; hopefully, though, for most of us, it will be years, if not decades in the future.  It is right for wives to miss dead husbands.  It is proper for children to miss dead fathers.  It is right for us to mourn those whom we see no longer.  It is neither an indictment of our faith nor a sign of weakness.  In fact, it is an acknowledgement that things have changed.

     If you are in a tradition where they teach you to say that this is a part of God’s plan, think about what you are being taught and encouraged to do.  Why kind of monster would wish this set of tragedies on a family?  Do you really want to believe that God wanted Terri to lose the love of her life and her daughter?  Do you really want to believe that God wanted the kids to lose a sister and their father and their possessions?  God does not hurt us because he needs a project to glorify Himself.  He loves us.  We know the depth of that love because, as we will celebrate in just a couple weeks, He came down from heaven to save us.  For all the wonder and awe of Silent Night, you and I are reminded that that story would be meaningless, were it not for His suffering and death for our sins.  We may not understand it rationally, as it is a holy mystery, but God came down and bridged the chasm that we could not in the work and person of Jesus Christ.  To be sure, we will remind ourselves in a couple weeks that world did not know Him when He entered the world, and we will further remind ourselves of our rejection of Him when we return to Holy Week and Good Friday in the spring.  More significantly, we will remind ourselves that He did all that, that He suffered that rejection and torture and death, out of His incredible love for each one of us and everyone we meet.  Rather than say such nonsense to fill the void of silence, just be a shoulder to cry on, remind folks that God can redeem this because He raised Jesus from the dead.  Use both ears.  But never tell someone suffering that this was a part of God’s plan.

     Now, all of that leaves us with the question of a loving God and the existence of evil and suffering in the world.  Do we serve a God who could have cured Maddie?  Absolutely.  Do we serve a God who could have healed Todd and prevented His death?  You better believe it!  Do we serve a God who could heal a priest whose healing ministry is internationally known?  Yes.  But we serve a God who is not bound by time and space as we are and who knows far better than we what is really good for us.  Because He has already proven Himself to us by His coming and dying, we can trust that He will redeem even this horrible set of tragedies.  He may not do it the way you or I will want, but, then again, He always does more than we can ask or imagine.  And, as our readings chosen by Terri and Todd’s father remind us this day, we are reminded that we will see all those who claimed Christ as Lord again,   that this is not the end of Maddie’s story or Todd’s story or even Judith’s story.  God has so bound Himself to us that He would be dishonored were He unable to redeem this.  And we who plumb the Scriptures and have seen His power in the world around us understand all too well that He does not suffer dishonor for long.

     How do we know?  Much of what we forget in the Church in this country is the threat and presence of death.  We are blessed, most Americans, in that death is not the companion it is in other parts of the world.  In other parts of the world, diseases, hunger, war, and natural disasters loom large in the life and death of people.  We take for granted that death is something that happens in old age.  Death, of course, is that great stumbling block.  Think of the money people spend trying to put it off or delay it.  Think of the efforts that people go to to avoid it.  Cryogenic freezing and other nonsense.  The problem is that death is perceived as the end.  I can accumulate the wealth of Bill Gates or Elon Musk, but I cannot spend the money if I am dead.  I can accumulate the power of a President or monarch or military leader, but I cannot exercise that power if I am dead.  I can be the most beautiful of women or most handsome of men, but nobody will admire me if I am dead.  Death reminds us that these things we chase, these things we accumulate, most of these things that we value in life are, in the words of vanities.  Death is the stumbling block that cannot be overcome by want to, by innovation, by wealth, by strength, or by smarts.

     Ah, but for those of us who call Jesus Lord, know that death is not the final obstacle of life.  Yes.  It is the consequence of sin.  We die because we sin.  We understand that axiomatic truth.  More importantly, we understand the need for Jesus to die so that we might be reconciled to God.  Not unlike the way we breathe or blink, God destroys sin.  Were we to approach Him absent our faith in Christ, we would be destroyed.  But, He came down from heaven and became sin, took Himself all our punishments, so that we could be reconciled to Him again!  It is a price He willingly and lovingly paid.  After torture, He died.  For three days He laid in that empty tomb.  His disciples were confused because they thought His rescue had ended.  The Temple leadership thought they had secured their power, because they had conspired to put Him to death.  Pilate likely never gave Him another thought once He gave Joseph of Arimathea to retrieve the Body of our Lord and bury it.  Messiahs were a dime a dozen and charlatans all! 

     But God raised Him on that Easter morning!  That we might know He was Who He claimed to be, that we might know He really was the Messiah, God raised Him from the dead!  That Resurrection is important to us because it vindicated Jesus’ faith in our Father.  In the end, Jesus trusted that the Father would glorify Him for living the holy, righteous, sinless life He lived.  Though the world fought Him, rejected Him, and killed Him, His Resurrection testified to His Apostles and disciples that death is not the end!

     Just as significantly to us, though, it restored us to God.  I began this service with the reminder that we do not have life in ourselves.  We live and die in the Lord and are always His possession.  That means we can face the vicissitudes of the world, we can face the very worst that His enemies have to throw at us, with confidence that our sufferings will be redeemed and that we will share in His glory.  How does that work out in these tragedies?  I cannot say for certain, and, truthfully, I do not know that I want to try.  Any ideas or imaginations that I share will be dwarfed exponentially by what God will do.  How do we know Todd will be redeemed and glorified?  Because He claimed God’s Son as His Lord.  How do we know He will share in Christ’s glory?  Because that is Christ’s promise to him and to all who have been adopted as God’s children.  How do we know God can cause this all to come to be?  Because He raised Jesus from the dead!  If He had power to raise Jesus from the dead, He has the power, and more importantly the loving desire, for us to spend eternity with Him!  If He can take the events of Holy Week and our Lord’s death on the Cross and redeem them, if He can take the events of Job’s life and redeem them, He can certainly redeem these tragedies.  Perhaps our witness and our hope will lead others to His saving embrace.  Perhaps our faithful ministering to Terri and the family will cause others to wonder and ask why?  God alone knows how He will turn these tragedies to His purposes.

     Brothers and sisters, in just a couple weeks we will remind ourselves of the darkness of the world and of our need for a Savior.  We will go again to the manger, we who mourn, who perhaps even argue with God, over senseless deaths and His seeming inaction, and we will look upon the face of He Who came down from heaven.  We will remind ourselves that this first visitation was to show us the path to the Father.  And we will remind ourselves that the babe lying in the manger has been given authority to execute judgment of the world.  We will treasure, I hope, the knowledge that the Lord Whom Todd loved is the One who has been given that authority.  We will trust, I hope, in those promises that God made to Todd in his baptism.  We will, no doubt, grind our teeth a bit more on that bread and swallow a bit harder that wine that serves as the pledge of God’s promises to us in the Eucharist.  And, I pray, fortified by that pledge and this reminder of His promises to all who call Him Lord, we will look a bit more expectantly to that time when our Lord calls us home or returns to finish the re-creation that has begun, and that, like Todd and the saints who have gone before, we, with them, will be re-united with God and with them forever and share in that amazing, promised Feast, clothed not in these fleshy, always breaking down bodies nor even as a bumblebee, but clothed as sons and daughters, princes and princesses, of God, and all this bitterness and sadness forgotten.  We may not have the answers to our questions or the salves for our wounds.  Thankfully and mercifully, we, like Todd, know the One who does!

 

In His Peace,

Brian†