For John W

Funeral Sermon for John W

Text: 1 Corinthians 13:1-13

We’ve just heard 1 Corinthians chapter 13: the apostle Paul’s beautiful description of the love that never ends. As for prophecies, as for tongues, as for knowledge, they will come to an end; however, there is no end for the true, faithful love. We do know that some loves come to an end; we do hear about loves that do not last. Under the heavens, all things seem to have their end - and most things do. What love is this that Paul wants us to know? What is this love which is greater than any words that the angels could speak, this love which is superior to any human boast of  power, knowledge or wealth? At the end of our life’s journey, what is left undestroyed?

What is left is not our body, our bank account, our success or failure, but the love we have received and the love we have given and the countless ripples we made on the life water of the people we loved, the communities we cared for, and our world. This love that lasts in the hearts of the world and the people bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. This love is remembered, and echoes on like the ripples in an endless ocean.

Today, we remember John Wiens and celebrate the life he lived. He was a life-long musician, talented and dedicated – I hear that there were not many instruments he didn’t play. He liked to play old time fiddles and others. He served his community of faith with the same affection and dedication he gave to his music. Most importantly, he loved his family. Barbara remembers that after days of travel, when John walked in, he would say, “I’m home. I love you.”

Last week, I had the honour to be asked to meet John at Victoria General Hospital; I was told that day would be John’s last day here with us. It was a beautiful late-Spring day. All things in nature were fully welcoming the arrival of the fresh-born summer. Everything looked ready to bloom into its full potential, at any time. The green energy of God was all around, breathing in and out. While driving over the bridge to get to the hospital, I quickly glanced at the river. It was glowing with thousands of small wavelets, flowing like silky wrinkles, from the south to the north. Driving on the bridge, looking down on this river, ancient but ever-new, I prayed for John. I prayed that John’s life, granted to him and to us, would return to God as the rain returns to the river. This river, whether it is deeply unmoving in the frozen winter, or beginning to yield to Spring’s warmth, is the same river. Through all the changes, there is something that remains: an essence that is vitally pulsing, ever-changing on the surface but always a part of the whole, sustaining all around it with Divine purpose, active and alive, now and in the future.

River or love, I believe that there is something that doesn’t change. Our beings, like a river, like love, like music, manifest splendid diversity and beauty in different stories and forms of life. We change along with the changes that life brings. In fact, following the flow and the changing rhythm of life is how we accept life and live it fully, and discover its mystery and gift. Yet, in faith, we also see that when we fully realize the essential character of life that is change, we even more clearly see below the changes, inside the changes, there is something that never changes, never has its end. We, who participate in God’s being and becoming, are inherently capable of seeing and meeting God, who gives meaning, grace, gifts, sustenance. God, whether we call God River or Love, never hides God’s prevailing existence! May God bless this whole earth of ours as we continue to live life with praise, and may the spirit of John joins God’s and become one and reside with God - forever. Amen.