1 John 4: 7-16
7 Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. 8 Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love. 9 God’s love was revealed among us in this way: God sent his only Son into the world so that we might live through him. 10 In this is love, not that we loved God but that he loved us and sent his Son to be the atoning sacrifice for our sins. 11 Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. 12 No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.
13 By this we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he has given us of his Spirit. 14 And we have seen and do testify that the Father has sent his Son as the Savior of the world. 15 God abides in those who confess that Jesus is the Son of God, and they abide in God. 16 So we have known and believe the love that God has for us.
God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them.
Thank you, Michaela for reading today. God’s love lived in your Grandma, and her love lives in you, just as it lives in all her grandchildren.
The words you read tell us that “God is love, and those who live in love, live in God and God lives in them.” Truer words were never spoken.
Wendy loved so much. Each one of us gathered here today knew Wendy’s love. It has been heartwarming to read the outpourings of love that have been scrolling endlessly on Facebook for the last 10 days recounting memories of this classy lady. Her gentle and strong spirit reached so many people. Who knows how far and wide this service is being streamed right now? Certainly, Wendy’s love is being felt and remembered in Mazatlan right now. And we can be sure that it is God’s love and your love, and our love that filled Wendy’s life with purpose and joy.
So, we gather today to remember Wendy. Thank you, Wally, for sharing your words today. What we are doing today is an important thing. Telling stories, looking at photos, praying together- this is a holy thing we do. It will be important to keep on with this process, even if that means finding new ways to do that because of the pandemic.
On the very evening that Wendy died, I was watching a show on Netflix when one of the characters recited a poem that caught my attention. I stopped the video and replayed it several times so that I could write down the words of the poem so that I could share it with you all today. It is called ‘Tis a Fearful Thing’ and it was written about a thousand years ago by a Jewish man in Spain named Judah Halevi. He was a philosopher and a physician.
‘Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.
A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be—
to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,
And a holy thing
A holy thing
to love.
For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched.
It is a fearful, holy, important thing we do, to remember the painful joy of loving Wendy, painful only because death has come. Obviously today is just the beginning of naming the feelings, or recounting the memories, of crying and laughing and holding each other through the process of grief. Those feelings will shift and change as time moves on. What we do today is a start.
At times like this we turn to poetry, whether through the words of scripture or the lyrics of songs. I suppose we do that because it is hard to capture, in normal language, the hopes and dreams and love that feed our lives.
Mary Oliver captured the mystery of what we’re doing now when she wrote:
To live in this world
You must be able
To do three things:
To love what is mortal;
To hold it
against your own bones knowing
Your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to
Let it go,
To let it go.
Oh, how true those words are! Wendy loved deeply. Anyone who ever saw Rich and Wendy together, whether that was on a dance floor, or walking on the Malecon, or even in a professionally filmed advertisement for a condo, could see the deep love they shared. Anyone who ever heard Wendy talk about her children and grandchildren knew how deeply she loved you. Even those of us who simply counted Wendy as a cherished friend felt her loving care, her welcoming hospitality, her generous spirit.
A few weeks ago, when Wendy transitioned to hospice care and Rich asked if I would officiate at her memorial service when the time came, I knew right away that my words would be focused on love.
The words from the Song of Solomon, chapter 8: verses 6-7 came to mind. I know it may be unusual to choose a passage from the love poetry of scripture for a memorial service, but in this case I think it is just perfect. As you listen to these words consider the power of the love that filled and flowed from Wendy’s life.
Set me as a seal upon your heart,
As a seal upon your arm;
For love is strong as death,
Passion fierce as the grave.
Its flashes are flashes of fire,
A raging flame.
Many waters cannot quench love,
Neither can floods drown it.
If one offered for love
All the wealth of one’s house,
It would be utterly scorned.
Those words ring with an honest truth. Today, we stand in the shadow of death. There can be no doubt that death is fierce and strong. Sorrow can threaten to quench our spirits. There have been and will be days when tears flood our hearts.
But, love is equally strong. Its flashes are of a raging flame that not even death can quench or drown. When it comes right down to it—none of us who have known real love would ever trade even all the wealth in the world for love.
A few days before Wendy died, I was able to administer Holy Communion to Rich and Wendy, via the telephone. I read to them the poetic imagery from the 21st chapter of Revelation about the place that Jesus went to prepare for her and for us.
“God will be with them; God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning nor crying nor pain any more, for the former things have passed away.”
It’s impossible for any of us to describe the next place literally. So we turn to images and poetry to express our faith and hope. We say she’s in the arms of the angels. Or she’s somewhere over the rainbow, where troubles melt like lemon drops. We turn to the eternal truths: that in God’s eternal care there will not be the suffering that she endured here. There will not be the mourning you feel now after her death. There will not be any tears or pain or death.
It is a holy thing to love. To live in this world, we must love what is mortal, knowing our life depends on that love. And when the time comes to let go, even that is love, because we trust that love is strong as death and nothing can quench love.
St. Paul put it this way. “I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8: 38-39)
Wendy’s pain is gone, and she is now held in the love of God, who is love. And Wendy’s love will continue to abide in each of us. And that is a holy thing. Thanks be to God. Amen.
(Wendy’s obituary and the livestream broadcast of her service can be accessed by clicking the link below.)