Peggy Memorial Service Homily

The question I find myself asking as I prepare to preach at a memorial service is “How did this person’s life reveal the good news of God in Christ to me?’ The good news that God’s love and mercy are boundless, the good news that God is at work bringing about God’s kingdom of justice and peace, the good news that God raised Jesus from the dead and that God keeps on bringing God’s people out of captivity into freedom, out of darkness into light, out of death into life. As I was praying about Peggy the hymn we just sang popped into my head and it would not go away. I think it makes me think of Peggy because it is so silly, so funny, kind of an Episcopalian in-joke—you can imagine laughing about it with her—rhyming priest with fierce wild beast and so on. But it also reminds me of Peggy because Peggy was everywhere. In the shops or at tea, in newly opened restaurants, at the symphony talks, on the Landmarks Association gatherings and trips, at class reunions, on tours to places far and near—and she must have spent a lot of time shopping for greeting cards. You could see her walking the park, or at the movies or eating in Soulard or at the College Club. She was everywhere, and everywhere she was there were bangle bracelets and scarves and fabulous stockings and everywhere was wild laughter, overflowing conversation and extravagant gestures. I’m not sure any of us would place Peggy among the capital "S" saints of God, but all of us by baptism are among the small "s" saints of God, called to lives of love and generosity, to making a difference in the world, bearing witness to God’s power to bring life out of death.
Many of you have known Peggy much longer than I have, much longer than this St Mark’s congregation has. But the Peggy we knew was a person raised to new life, after devastating loss and illness, a resurrection person who having gotten her life back was determined to find every moment of joy she could. She burst upon us like a colorful butterfly just sprung from its chrysalis eager to sample every flower. Since Peggy has died, more than one parishioner has said, in one way or another, “I want to be Peggy when I grow up” – generous and always interested in learning something new, in encouraging talents in younger people, in living life as fully as she could even when constrained by her health and financial circumstances. Was she sometimes, like all of us, discouraged or depressed or angry or petty or mean? Of course she was. Was she sometimes a little over the top? Of course she was. But no one who met Peggy soon forgot her. Imagine having your life touched by her as a fourth grader. She had traveled the world, she knew St Louis like the back of her hand, she lived in the world of music and the arts, she could hardly have failed to amaze and inspire those ten year olds like Patrick Dennis’s Auntie Mame or like a generous spirited Miss Jean Brody.
Our lessons bring us images of what God longs for for us, images of fabulous, fantastic buildings and feasts and gatherings— Isaiah offers the proclamation of God’s justice and liberation of the captives and of God giving to those who mourn a garland – or maybe the leopard scarf or boa-- instead of ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, a bit of a party image. John the Divine depicts the coming reign of God as like a wedding and like a huge gathering where there is no hunger or thirst and God wipes away every tear, and finally John the Evangelist depicts Jesus as saying that in his father’s house there are many rooms, room for all people to gather and rejoice. Peggy gave us a glimpse of the delight that God longs for us to take in all that God gives us, a glimpse of the joy that God takes in us. Faced with the suddenness of Peggy’s death, we almost expect to see her in the parish hall next week, regaling us with details of what the garlands and the oil were like, of how fantastic that enormous house of God is, of the spectacle of God’s holy ones gathered around the throne before launching into conversation with the male parishioners about the details some sports matter, like whether La Russa will manage the Yankees now Joe Torre has walked away.
But she won’t be doing that and nor will we soon be forgetting her laugh and her intelligence and her openness to all people. We’ll remember her gusto and her style and her generosity of spirit. We give thanks for her life and we commend her to God’s loving care. And when you feel bored or sad or discouraged, when you feel that your life is growing more and more limited, ask yourselves, “What would Peggy do?” because she was a reminder to us all that life is a gift from God, to be seized and savored and that all that God’s bountiful gifts – and especially love and laughter-- are best enjoyed when they are shared.

Easter Three, Year C

This sermon was preached on the Third Sunday of Easter, 2007. powered by Hipcast.com