John 14:1-4; Matthew 11:28-30; 2 Timothy 4:6-8
“I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure has come.” That’s how St. Paul described his situation, waiting in his Roman prison cell for his inevitable and swiftly coming martyrdom. I think that those words are fitting to describe how Chuck has felt these past eight months since his dear Betty died in the Lord. Though Chuck still came to church on Sunday mornings and Friday morning Bible study, though he would still go out for a bite to eat and to play Schafskopf with the fellas, he just wasn’t himself. He was even more quiet than usual. When he did speak, you could hear that he was sad. He was a bit like a ghost – present, but mostly silent; around, but not entirely “here.” Chuck was so very sad since Betty died, depressed even. And why wouldn’t he be? Chuck and Betty were happily married for sixty-four years! They had you four children: Stephen, Carolee, Jeffrey, and Charles, all nearby and involved in their lives and blessing them with seven grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. God has been good to Chuck and Betty, and God has been good to you through them. God has blessed them and He has made them to be a rich blessing to you and to countless others.
That was the Chuck of the last eight months, but that was not the Chuck of the eighty-four years prior. While that Chuck may have been quiet, even stoic at times, he was also strong and bold. That Chuck loved to bike, golf, and watch basketball and football. That Chuck rode his bicycle in Ragbrai. When his wheel hit a crack in the pavement and he took a tumble, that Chuck got up, brushed himself off, checked his bike, and off he went. That Chuck drove his new car as fast as it would go, just to see how fast it could go, scaring the bejeebers out of his sister Sandy. That Chuck drove Army Generals to meetings in Hawaii, before Hawaii was a state, during the Korean War. That Chuck gave everyone a hard time, because he loved them, and that Chuck was the man to beat in Rummy or a game of cards. That Chuck was the best there was at finding things, and, ironically, at getting himself lost. But now Chuck has been found.
Though he wasn’t the same man that he used to be in terms of strength, vigor, and vitality, which, metaphorically, had seemingly been poured out of him, Chuck fought the good fight of faith for eighty-five years, he finished the race that is our lives this side of heaven and he kept the faith throughout. And now Chuck rests in His Savior Jesus with his beloved Betty and with all the saints who have died in the Lord. Chuck has moved once again, not from the house he loved and cared for with Betty for so many years, not even from his apartment at The Ledges, which simply wasn’t home, but Chuck has followed His Good Shepherd Jesus and he has moved into that place that His Lord prepared for him in His Father’s house, a house in which He has prepared a place also for you to live one day as well.
Ironically, for a man who had little to say most of the time, Chuck got a kick out of talking when most everyone else would prefer him to have been silent – like, in elevators. Yes, Chuck would strike up a conversation with complete strangers in elevators. He would also answer complete strangers’ questions in restaurants that weren’t even addressed to him. In that respect, Chuck was uncommonly social. He liked people, and people liked him. He was a milk delivery man for thirty-five years. Chuck knew people everywhere he went, from St. Louis to St. Paul. Chuck’s granddaughter Michael shared with me that his relative silence, outside of those uncomfortable elevator and restaurant situations, was actually a great blessing to her. She remembered “those mornings in silence sitting on the four-season porch watching the birds and drinking coffee before Chuck and Betty read their morning devotions.” “The world was at peace,” she said, and “They helped me to cherish the little things and to live in the moment, because those mornings were sacred.” Michael said that she would give anything to have one of those mornings on that four-season porch again.” That’s a great memory, and a great life lesson.
Cherish the little things. That’s good advice. Little things like silence and coffee in the morning, little things like birdsongs and sunshine, little things like devotions with your beloved, little things like a bike ride or a game of Schafskopf, little things like sneaking a piece of chocolate when no one is looking, little things like chocolate pudding and pea salad. The thing is, these “little things” are not little things at all. These are the things that make a life sacred, and blessed, and good. Rather, these things are the marks of a sacred, blessed, and good life. Chuck and Betty were fixtures in this sanctuary. They loved their Lord and His Word and His Gifts, and they loved receiving them together and with their family of faith. They believed in this promise from our Lord Jesus: “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” Chuck and Betty believed in that promise, and they are experiencing it even now. Let not your hearts be troubled, the promise is for you and all who will receive forgiveness and life in Jesus Christ as a free and perfect gift.
Let not your hearts be troubled. Charles Struck Sr. is no longer lilting his way through life like a ghost, but he is in the presence of Life Incarnate, Jesus Christ, his Savior. He has found rest for his soul. And yet, this is not the end, for all the saints in heaven are waiting for and anticipating the day of our Lord’s return and the resurrection of our bodies. Then you will see them again and there will be joy and peace that will never end. Come, Lord Jesus. Come quickly, come.
In the + Name of Jesus. Amen.
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