Memorial Service for James

Rev. Roberta Finkelstein, Officiant

Monday November 24, 2008

Welcome and Call to Worship—Rev. Roberta

“Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.”

My friends, we gather here this afternoon in this place of grief and transition to mourn the death and to honor the life of a wonderful man. James was particularly fond of the poetry of William Butler Yeats, author of The Second Coming. But in his own life, James proved Yeats wrong in his assessment of humanity. James was the best of men, strong in his convictions, and he lived a life of passionate intensity. That is why his death, at far too young an age, brings us such sorrow. That is why we need one another’s company for understanding and support. Just to be together, to look into one another’s faces, takes away some of our loneliness and draws our hearts together in the healing which we can offer one another. At times like this the various faiths which sustain us separately come together in a harmony which acts across all creeds and assures us of the permanence of human goodness and hope. So we gather in grief and sorrow, but we also gather to celebrate. We give thanks that we knew this man James, we express our gratitude for the days and years we were able to share with him, and to offer comfort to his loved ones: his wife Katy, his sons Jotham and Abe, his daughter Nell Hannah, his parents Fred and Sheila, his sister Kathy, and his many nieces and nephews. As you sit together, remember together, sing together, and pray together, you weave a web of comfort and reassurance, sustenance for all in the days of grief and mourning.

Hymn #6 Just As Long As I Have Breath

Reading: On the Death of the Beloved

Brief Eulogy—Rev. Roberta

How to sum up a life, particularly the life of a man who lived so fully engaged in the lives of others? I knew James as one of the Sunday morning regulars; he was here. Last year when we changed our worship schedule and started the after-church Minister’s Forum, he became a regular participant. I looked forward to seeing him, to hearing what he had to say in our wide-ranging discussions. His participation in the life of the church was just part of his life-long commitment to learning, growing, self-improvement, spiritual growth and personal transformation. His family describes him as a Renaissance Man with a truly bizarre sense of humor—and I’m sure you will be hearing some good stories about that sense of humor. He knew so much about so many things: poetry, music, art, sports, politics... James was a carpenter, a master builder. He was a devoted husband and father, a soft-ball coach. He was one of those people that you think of as ‘just a really nice guy.’

I leave it to you who know him well to fully explore his life and his legacy. James’s family wants most of this time together to be given over to the sharing of memories. Let’s begin by inviting members of the immediate and extended family to speak.

Sharing of Memories

Musical Piece: Imagine

Reading: “Red Truck”

Sharing of Memories (invite friends and colleagues)

Hymn #95 There Is More Love Somewhere

Closing Prayer—Rev. Roberta

Hear these words of prayer adapted from the pen of A. Powell Davies: Spirit of Life and Love, may we remember in our grief how many have known the darkness of this valley even as we do, and that their grief, like ours, was bleak and lonely. They, too, believed that hope was gone, and that their sorrows were beyond all healing. And yet the darkness passed; at last the bitterness was gone. The love we can no longer give to our beloved James, may we give to those who need it. May our compassion be deeper, our sympathy wider. Let our sorrows melt away our bitterness and teach us to be gentle. May we be saved from frozenness of heart. If so much that is precious can so soon be lost, let us cherish what remains; and let us be the nurture of things precious in the lives of others. When there is nothing to guide us in the present, may we be guided by the insights of the past. Let not bereavement blind us to what is good and lovely still: let us see it through our tears, until again we see it plainly. Whatever we have known and loved is ours while life shall last. May we see that what we love becomes a part of us, is interfused with our lives, blended with mind and memory and joined to our souls. May we resolve that the good we knew in those who have gone from us shall live in us and be passed on from one generation to another. May we have faith that beauty endures, that goodness reigns, and that God’s other name is love. Amen.

Benediction—Rev. Roberta

On behalf of the Pastoral Associates of South Church, I invite you to join James’s family downstairs for a reception. In closing here are some final snippets of the poetry James so loved. First this from W.H. Auden’s elegy to Yeats:

In the deserts of the heart

Let the healing fountain start,

In the prison of his days

Teach the free man how to praise.

And Yeat’s own self-chosen epitaph:

Cast a cold eye on life, on death.

Horsemen, pass by!

So it is done. We bid a loving farewell to James. His body will be committed to the purifying flame; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Let us honor his memory by living, ourselves, more nobly and lovingly in the days ahead. May the courage which comes from human love and fellowship comfort you, and may the peace which passes understanding dwell in your hearts now and forever. Amen.

Postlude and Recessional