This is all so unbearably sad. For Rose and for Jennifer, Megan, and Stephanie, our hearts go out to you as well as to Dr. and Mrs. Marchuk and Mrs. Rose Morreale. Lydia, Martha, and Mary have lost a brother, and Susan and Elizabeth have lost a brother-in-law. However, all of us here today are part of a larger family joined together by our sadness, our love for Dan, and our love for you.
Dan’s death was a terrible tragedy. In the usual economy of things, we would say he was too young to die. The title of “widow” does not fit well on Rose. All those daddy-daughter times I know in my own experience of having girls are so cherished (if barely tolerated by our girls) but cannot be realized now. This is not a picture anyone could have painted or prepared for and we’re all at a loss as to how we might make sense of Dan’s death.
Part of the tragedy, at least for me, is the fact that I can think of no greater purpose that might be served here. I think that’s why there might be some anger as part of our feelings, and that’s O.K. Whether anger at God, anger at Dan, we ask, “Why isn’t he here and back to work like he’s supposed to be, why isn’t he with Rose and with the girls, why isn’t he singing in choir, why isn’t he grilling hot dogs in the Rummage food tent?” Those are places he’s supposed to be.
And yet, in our frustration of trying to make sense of where Dan is supposed to be, we can be strengthened and comforted by an extraordinary faithfulness on his part in those life roles that he valued, that he worked hard at, that he was concerned about. As worried as he was about his job and about his being a good husband and a good father and a good member of the church and of the community, those were blessings of God in Dan’s life and can never be taken away from him. Those memories can never be taken away from us. And so as sad as we are, we are also deeply grateful for having known such a generous and gentle soul, conscientious to a fault, who loved God, loved his family, loved his church, and would have been right here if it were someone else’s death we were remembering.
I hope many of you might take this service bulletin home with you and read the words of the hymns we are singing and look up the Scripture passages that were read, because they affirm the constancy of God’s love and God’s care for us no matter what. This last period of time in Dan’s life was painful for him. We don’t really know why. His concerns were not completely justified but nonetheless were very real for him. But what we can affirm today is that there is nothing outside of God’s capacity to heal if only in that place of God’s kingdom beyond this life.
In particular, if you want a specific piece of homework it would be to read John’s gospel, Chapter 6, verses 37–40, our Gospel for this afternoon. Jesus says, “It is God’s will that I should not lose even one of all that he has given me, but raise them all up on the last day. For it is my father’s will that everyone who looks upon the Son and puts his faith in him shall possess eternal life.” No conditions. No “ifs.” No class or status or denominational contingencies. It’s a pure and simple statement from Jesus saying, “Dan, I love you and will always love you. You are mine forever, and whatever pain or doubt or inner anguish you may have experienced, will be resolved in my heavenly care for you. And as Jesus assures Dan of that kind of safekeeping, he assures us. It may be hard to see through the tears we shed right now, but it is there and can never be taken away from us. Moreover, that love God has for Dan will keep us connected to Dan and is surely represented by this incredible support present this afternoon for Dan’s family. It is a matter of the heart we are about today, and Dan’s right there, safe and sound, right there.
