Monday, November 20, 2017

Funeral Sermon for David Kline

Preached at Canadochly on November 18, 2017
Scripture text: Acts 9:36-42


I’m still trying to figure out if this is going to be the easiest funeral sermon I’ve ever preached or the hardest.

Easy, because, well what more can you say about David and his life. Eulogizing one of the best people on Earth is easy, simple. He was a giant, a man of virtue, compassion, generosity, creativity, and deep faith. He was a hero of mine, simply put.

David might be a bit embarrassed to hear all these accolades, but when you live your life the way he did, you’re going to impress. He had a dream and he lived it, founding his own business. A business that brought a dying art back to life and shared with so many. This sanctuary alone is testimony to how widely it was shared. We sit on his weavings in these pews and see them on the altar behind me. I wear a stole he made. And if that wasn’t enough, go in most any ELCA church in our synod and you’ll find them there. Grace church in North York where I also serve has his work on its altar at this very moment and plenty of other places too. Of course, that’s not counting the historical sites where his work is found. Or the many films it has appeared in. You know you’ve impressed someone when Hollywood production designers say “I want David Kline’s work in my historical film.”

It never went to his head though. He was always a humble man. Deeply generous; I don’t think I ever stopped by the shop without walking out with some freebie he’d given me, probably much to the chagrin of the more business-minded in his family. He wasn’t just generous with me. All of us have experienced it and many more beyond. I remember how passionate he was when we were debating here on how we would dispense the moneys this church had come into and how David wanted it to go to help people in need here in York county and elsewhere. Justice was a huge passion of his; he wanted the world set right and a fairer shake for all people.

That’s a reflection of his faith. I shared the story of Tabitha from the book of Acts in our readings because was another like David who gave and gave for the sake of others. David got it. He understood what this God stuff is really about. It’s about God taking care of us so we can take care of others. David did that, believed that, trusted in that. There was no fear in him as death approached. He knew God would be there, because he’d always been. David’s job was not to worry about that. David knew his calling was to live for others.

And then there’s all of you which is further proof of that calling. All those who he lived for. Carole, Pat, Julie, all the grand-children, all the great grand-children, all of the friends and admirers. All of whom David loved and appreciated, respected and adored. You are a part of his legacy too, the stories you can tell of who he was to you and how his presence in your life impacted you.

You see, easy. Easy to preach. Easy to talk about. David made it easy by the man he was and the life he lived.

But then there’s this simple truth that our friend, our husband and father, this man of immense quality is gone now. Words fail to convey the emotions that unpleasant truth bring about in each of us. The world is quite dim in these times and with David’s passing it has become dimmer still. One of its brightest lights has gone out.

And that hurts. It makes me angry. It makes me sad. It makes me feel all sorts of things right now, things I am desperately trying to hold inside so I can get through this homily. Things that you’re feeling too. Things that many of you are also trying to hold inside in order to get through this funeral.

And that part isn’t so easy. That part is hard. My friend is gone and I don’t know what to feel about that.

But if David could speak right now, I am certain he would point to the central truth of his life. To God and his love, his compassion, his mercy, and his salvation. The things that sustained David in this life, and more than that, drove him to be who he was. God took care of me, he might say, he’ll take care of you too.

Remember the story of Easter and what it means. Why seek you the living among the dead? God has made Christ alive once more, the first of all of us. And while we look upon a casket and a body before us now, David is alive through Christ’s promises, through his resurrection, through his Easter.

What stands before us in this place and time is temporary. For there will come a day when God will fulfill the same promises he made to David to us as well. When we will be taken care of in the moment of our death and life will come again through the resurrection of Christ. And David will be there, with that quirky little smile on his face that always seem to have when he got one over on you. “See, told you so.” I can imagine him saying, ever so fond of correcting any of us when we got it wrong. I’ll take it so I can see my friend again. And so, I’m sure will all of you.

Hold to that hope in this hard time. David lived his life in that hope and shared that hope in so many ways. That’s his legacy too and we who honor him today can do no better than to share in it also. God is good. God is love. God is life. David knew that. So can you. Amen.

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