Mother Liza’s Funeral Sermon for Coleen

It just so happened that when Coleen came to my office, I had a Care Bear called Sunshine Bear who had a sun on his tummy. I gave it to her when she left that day — and we both laughed about how, when people leave a clergy person’s office, they usually walk away with a collection of prayers or Scripture passages. She walked away with Sunshine Bear and that was ok — because to her and to all Christians, light is a religious symbol, a symbol of Christ as the true light of the world, a symbol of hope and faith and healing.

Many of you knew Coleen far better than I, but it’s very clear to me that she brought a lot of light and joy into people’s lives: her family, her friends, those with whom she worked. She was a social worker and for her, it wasn’t just a job, it was who she was. One of the things she liked best was working with memory support groups: helping older people remember and talk about important moments in their lives. Their memories brought light into their lives, and into Coleen’s as well because she cared about the people with whom she worked..

When Lindsay asked Coleen not all that long ago what two words Coleen would use to describe herself, she said, “enthusiastic and positive.” Those traits, along with her sense of humor, caused Rob to fall in love with Coleen very quickly. They were engaged within 6 months of meeting and married within nine months — and for 32 years thereafter. Rob said that Coleen’s love of life and love of her family was unequaled — and they renewed their marriage vows in this Cathedral just a few years ago. Their love for one another was a light in their lives.

Light is a central image in our faith — and there are reasons for that. The Judeo-Christian tradition begins with light and continues with light as a sign of God’s presence. You may have noticed that in the Old Testament Creation story read from today, the very first thing ever created was light, which means that light underlies all things. There are lots of other stories about light — from Moses face shining when he came down from Mt. Sinai to the light of a star announcing that God had come among us in the child Jesus.

And not just Christianity but science has a great deal to say about the centrality of light: according to a number of astrophysicists, ultimately everything will one day exist in the form of light. Light begins and ends our world, and from the beginning of time, light underlies all things.

As Christians, we are asked to believe the light of God’s presence is there even when we can’t see it – and that’s not always easy. The world can be a cruel and appalling place, abounding with good reasons to give up all hope, all sense of a loving God. For Coleen to die at the age of 53 adds to the sense of unfairness and darkness in the world.

In the face of all this, it may seem naive to say that God’s light underlies all things — but it is a truth that is central to our faith. Certainly there were plenty of times in Christ’s life when the light of God’s presence was not clearly evident, most especially when he was hanging on the cross where, to all outward appearances, he seemed to have been totally abandoned by his friends and by his God. Afterward he was laid stone dead in a borrowed tomb. And yet the light of God’s presence was pulsating just beneath the surface and on Easter morning, that light pierced the darkness of Good Friday, declaring a Light that not even death could extinguish.

I suppose one of the reasons it helped the elderly people with whom Coleen worked to remember past moments in their lives is because it was a way of recognizing the light. It was a way of helping them see that the light of God’s presence had been in their lives all along even when they didn’t know it, and that helped them believe the light was still there, even if they couldn’t see it right then.

So too for us, even in the midst of whatever we may be going through in our lives now, we can look back and see how light has been pulsing under the surface of our lives in the past — and that helps us to believe it’s here now, even if we can’t sense it. And even in the midst of Coleen’s death, there is the light that comes into our lives because we knew Coleen, because we shared moments with her that we will never forget. And those moments — even in the midst of sorrow– cause light to pierce through the darkness.

Last Wednesday evening when I was driving out to Hospice to see Coleen before she died, the moon was absolutely magnificent. It looked full and I remember thinking how it was one of the lights God set in the sky; a light to help us see in the darkness and to signal that though one day has ended, another — with a brighter light — is yet to come. The next night was the actual full moon and Rob said he stood in their back yard, with his arms outstretched, taking in the light of the moon — and believing that that light – so important to Coleen — was her message to him that she was all right.

As Christians, we know Coleen is all right. The dimmer light of this world has turned into the brilliant light of the next. Coleen now lives in endless light, the light of the resurrected Christ. It is that light that now and forever radiates through her soul, that light of hope and faith and healing. And it is that Light which the Gospel promises us no darkness can overcome, ever.

Preached at the

Mass of the Resurrection for Coleen Jones

St. Paul’s Cathedral, Buffalo, NY

September 23, 2013

The Very Rev. N. DeLiza Spangler