John 6:27-40; Romans 8:31-39; Isaiah 65:17-25
In the Name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit.
There are many things that we can say about Carol, but they are not the immediate things that people usually think of. Carol wasn’t a wife or a mother, nor was she a grandmother, or even a sister. Let’s get that out of the way first. Then who was Carol? Carol was a beloved daughter and cousin, and she was a devoted and beloved friend to many. Carol was a child of God and a strong Christian woman of faith who shared her faith with many with kind and encouraging words, wise counsel, loving compassion and charity, and with hugs and tears when appropriate.
And Carol was a teacher, for thirty-eight years! She never married, but Carol had many, MANY children. Roxanne, a former teacher with Carol at Ackley Elementary reflected, “I was so amazed how she knew every date of each student’s birthday; and that was without Google!” One former student, Ryan, wrote, “Ms. Hoffman was one of the most influential teachers I’ve ever had. … William Arthur Ward once wrote, ‘The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.’ Ms. Hoffman inspired.” And I think that Carol’s dear friend Marcia said it best, “God has gained the best second grade teacher in the world!”
Carol was born in Hampton, but she grew up in Humboldt. She attended Humboldt Congregational Church with her parents. Faith, family, and community were formational for Carol from the very beginning. Carol graduated from Humboldt High School and moved to Waverly to pursue her bachelor’s degree in education at Wartburg College. Upon graduation she began teaching second grade at Ackley Elementary. Thirty-eight years later she had touched countless lives with her love, wisdom, kindness, and faith. The Lord made Carol to be salt, leaven, and light, impacting for the better everyone she met. It was natural for Carol. It was her vocation. She was blessed to be a blessing.
Carol knew the value of hard work, says Cousin Linda, the importance of kindness, and the power of love. This is well attested to in the comments and tributes on her obituary page. But if you knew Carol, you didn’t need someone else to tell you. Carol truly cared about people. She wanted to know everything about you, about your spouse, your children, your grandchildren; and she would remember everything…, EVERYTHING! A phone call with Carol would be an hour. A visit in her home, two or three hours. And she’d just ask questions; you did all the talking. She wasn’t prying; she was truly interested, she cared.
Carol loved her church deeply. She sang in the choir for many years, lifting up her voice in praise to the Lord alongside her brothers and sisters in Christ. And many of you know the beautiful painting hanging above the fireplace in the Gathering Room. When the artist Paul Oman came to St. John to create that painting live before the congregation, there was one problem: the committee did not yet have enough money to make the project happen. Carol quietly stepped in and provided the remaining funds because she wanted to be part of something that would bless the congregation. On March 31, 2015, with the church packed full, Jean playing the piano, Scriptures being read, and Paul Oman painting before the congregation, that image came to life. And now it has become an iconic picture here at St. John.
That story is so very Carol. She was kind, generous, giving, and never interested in drawing attention to herself. She simply saw a need and quietly helped. She delighted in things that would encourage others, strengthen the church, and point people to Christ.
When I took the call to serve here at St. John in the Fall of 2017, Carol was still driving and attended service regularly. She would sit in the last row, pulpit side. Within a couple years she gave up driving and became a shut-in. It was then that I started visiting Carol in her home in Eisenach Village. I quickly learned to schedule an appointment and block out the afternoon. The first hour she asked me about my wife, each of my daughters, other pastors we both knew, how the church was going, about people in the church on the prayer list, etc. Then she would reminisce about teaching, friends, the Hawkeyes, and much, much more. We’d commune together and she’d finally say, “Well, Pastor, I know you have a lot to do, I better let you go.” Forty-five minutes later I was on my way.
But I witnessed Carol beginning to lose her independence. She had someone who brought her groceries and put them away, someone who cleaned and made the bed, nurses and therapists, and lots and lots of friends. This is how she managed to continue to live alone. However, inevitably, the time came for her to move to where she could receive twenty-four hour care. This was incredibly, horribly, painfully difficult for Carol. Yet, as much as it hurt and grieved her, she faced it with courageous strength and peace. She never complained. The last few years were particularly difficult as she suffered with swelling in her legs which was often extremely painful. Still, she attended the Thursday Divine Service at Bartels faithfully and she remained positive. She asked about the family, the pastors, the church now every week! Despite her own grief and loss, pain and suffering, she was only interested in others.
Now, where did that come from? That kind of steadfastness, kindness, peace, and selflessness does not simply appear out of nowhere. It was not merely Carol’s personality. It was faith. It was Christ.
Jesus says in John chapter six, “Do not labor for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to everlasting life.” Carol understood that. She certainly worked hard in this life. She devoted herself to her students, her friends, her family, and her congregation. But underneath all of it was something deeper. Carol knew that this world, as good as many of its gifts are, cannot finally satisfy or save. Health fades. Strength fades. Independence fades. The body weakens. Loved ones die. Carol experienced all of that.
And yet, she remained content and hopeful because her life rested upon something greater than herself. Jesus says, “This is the will of Him who sent Me, that everyone who sees the Son and believes in Him may have everlasting life; and I will raise him up at the last day.” That was Carol’s confidence. Not that she had been perfect. Not that she had earned heaven by being kind or generous or faithful in church attendance. Carol’s confidence was in Christ crucified and risen for sinners.
That faith shaped who Carol was. The kindness, the patience, the compassion, the concern for others, the ability to endure suffering without bitterness, these were fruits of faith. Christ had served Carol with His mercy, and so Carol served others. Christ had loved Carol steadfastly, and so Carol loved others steadfastly. Christ had borne Carol’s griefs and sorrows, and so even in her own suffering she still had room in her heart for other people.
And that is why St. Paul can say in Romans chapter eight, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” Paul does not say Christians will avoid suffering. Carol certainly did not avoid suffering. Paul himself suffered greatly. Rather, he says that nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Not tribulation. Not distress. Not sickness. Not weakness. Not grief. Not death itself.
That was true for Carol all the way to the end. Christ did not abandon her when her body weakened. Christ did not abandon her when she had to leave her home. Christ did not abandon her in pain, loneliness, or grief. And Christ has not abandoned her now.
That is our comfort today. Carol belongs to Jesus. She was baptized into Christ. She heard His Word. She received His body and blood. She trusted His promises. And Jesus says very plainly, “Whoever comes to Me I will never cast out.” Never.
And because Christ is risen from the dead, this is not the end of Carol’s story. Isaiah gives us that beautiful picture today: “Behold, I create new heavens and a new earth.” A world without weeping, without pain, without loss, without death. A restored creation. A resurrection creation. That is what Carol now awaits with all the saints who have died in the faith. Her body will rest in the ground, but it will rest in hope. On the Last Day, Christ Himself will raise Carol bodily from the grave, whole and healed forever. Then all the suffering and sorrow of this fallen world will finally be undone.
And so today we grieve. Of course we do. We will miss Carol deeply. We will miss the conversations, the questions, the laughter, the care, the encouragement, and the love. We will miss her voice singing in the choir and her faithful presence among us. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope. For Carol’s Savior lives. And because He lives, Carol lives also.
In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.
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