funeral sermon

I thought I'd include my reflections at the funeral of Mary Elise Baer, a church member who died last week.

Psalm 23-Ashley Lynch
2 Timothy 4:1-8-Kathy Lynch
Sermon-Samuel Voth Schrag
After the end of life, it is right and proper to gather together in honor of the one who has gone before, and today we gather to remember Mary Elise Baer. We are a gathered body, drawn together because of Mary’s well lived life, because she touched our hearts as family and friends and brethren in faith. As we gather, we celebrate and honor who she was and what she did in the world. We mourn her death, and grieve together, taking what consolation we may in the love and support of those around us. We gather with the church throughout history, the great cloud of witnesses which Mary Elise has now joined, remembering God’s work through history.


And we remember together the journey that is life. As we honor Mary’s life, through her we remember the patterns that shape human existence, from our birth to death, as we walk a path tread by so many feet before us, but one that is ever new in our own experience. The scripture passage this morning from First Timothy is about that life journey that Mary Elise has completed, the journey that we are all on that has brought us to this place. It is an epistle about passing the torch, where the apostle Paul provides a collection of instructions to his protégé, Timothy, who is being fitted out for a new ministry, but his message is one that all of us, whatever stage of life we are in, whatever our personal ministry happens to be, might consider this morning, as we remember the life of Mary Elise, and think about our own lives, and the choices we make as we live and breath and have our being in this world. How do we
2Preach the Word; to be prepared in season and out of season; to correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction… to keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, and discharge all the duties of your ministry?
I first met Mary Elise three years ago, when I came to the St. Louis Mennonite Fellowship as a new pastor, fresh out of seminary. As the oldest member of the congregation, she took it upon herself to welcome this new pastor, and to encourage me in my work. When I came to pay pastoral visits, either at the Tesson Heights Assisted Living center, or more recently at Cape Albeon, I always felt like she was checking in on me, just as I was checking in on her, watching over my tasks. And it was not just me that she was watching over-every time I met with her, we ran down the list of people in the congregation who were in need of prayer-Sarah and Debbie and Kimmie, whoever was in need that day. Always, after a brief update on the aches and pains of her life, and a longer conversation about the interesting adventures she was having-she always kept busy-we would turn to the needs of the congregation, and the people she loved. And her work went far beyond prayers. She was a master card writer, preserving the lost art of handwriting by sending everyone-nieces and nephews, grandnieces and nephews, every single member of the congregation-cards on their birthdays, and other special occasions. Mary was a person who knew the core tasks of caring, turning love the emotion into love in practice.
In this work, Mary was indomitable-Every Sunday, Mary would make her way to church, creaky throughout her body with significant pain, she came always with a cheerful spirit, happy to be present with her church, and to be present in the worship of God. Her sister jokes about her ‘assertiveness training’ which sometimes meant the ability to invite herself over for dinner, but also meant that she advocated for her ideas, her friends, and her students. Michelle WK reminded me of one of her stories at the viewing yesterday-Mary loved to say that when she was a young woman, it was appropriate to either be a nurse, or teach, and she knew she didn’t want to teach, so she went into nursing (and, ironically, into teaching nursing as well) Speaking of the virtues of encouragement, careful instruction, and patience, one could hardly have a better opportunity to practice them than as an instructor in the complicated art of nursing. Did you know that Mary got her nursing degree in the army? It was a controversial thing for her pacifist Mennonite family, but she saw it as a means to an end, and I note it as part of her persistence in following her goals.
So as I remember Mary, I remember the duties of my ministry-the calling to care for both neighbor and stranger, to endure challenges, to encourage one another.
But of course, this passage is used so commonly at funerals because of the second part of the passage-Paul’s reminder that our days come to an end, that while the race is long, there is a finish, and that eventually we are all poured out, an offering to God, and the treasure we have in our clay jars is claimed again by our creator. I know that I do not remember Mary Elise at the height of her strength as many of you do, so I can testify personally only that as she knew she was coming to the end of her journey, she sought out joy, she claimed the blessings of trips to Lone Elk Park and good food and interesting conversation, so she lived life well while not hiding from her own mortality. So I’d like to close with this reflection. Because we are human beings, there comes a time for all of us when we come to the end of our road. We are dust, and to dust we shall return. So, let us remember our own humanity together today, as we grieve our sister, recognizing the valley of the shadow of death in which we all walk, as we wait for green pastures and still waters, as we pray to dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
Mary, may you know the peace that comes with having claimed your path, tied bonds of fellowship with friend and stranger, and experienced the deep, wide, and eternal love of God, as you worked for a world made new in the image of Christ.
In the name of our lord and savior,
Amen.