Tonight, Holy Communion said goodbye to one of its most precious members. Her name was Effie Reitsma, and she and her husband Dick have been amazing pillars of this congregation for as long as I can remember. They have been so loving, so joyous, and so full of life- even as their aches and pains and heartaches have continued to accumulate. That’s the real mark of what you’re made of- and of what’s important to you…. what you’re like in the waning years of life, when the easiest thing would be to give in and allow yourself to sag into a slow decline. Dick and Effie have drawn upon a great inner strength and joy within themselves and each other that has sustained them so beautifully through these last few difficult years. And if Kathy and I are blessed to live into our 80’s, I hope we will live into those years with the kind of spunk and spirit that we have seen in the Reitsmas.
When Kathy and I got to church tonight a full half hour before the funeral was scheduled to begin, the line of well wishers extended all the way down the aisle of the sanctuary. . . and out the door! And by the time everyone who wanted to greet the family had done so, it was a full half hour after the funeral was to have begun. It was a neat tribute to Effie and a vivid indication of just what a beloved person she has been in our community of faith.
Several moments from her funeral stand out very vividly in my mind and heart, beginning with the processional hymn- “I was there to hear your borning cry,” by John Ylvisaker. This hymn is featured in every Carthage new student convocation and commencement (and I have been leading the singing of it for more than twenty years) so I mostly associate it with young adults who are either about to begin their college years- or about to end them- and the parents who are present to cheer them on. But tonight that song was being sung as we said goodbye to this dear 85-year-
old woman, with her children, grandchildren, and great- grandchildren following her casket down the aisle…. and I am sure that I will never think of this song and these poignant words in quite the same way again.
Another powerful moment came as the three scriptures were read by three of Effie’s great-grandchildren – all chosen because they were among her favorites. As her great-grandson Nick read the third lesson, from the 40th chapter of Isaiah, he started to cry. The words were “They who wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings like Eagles. They shall run and not grow weary. They shall walk and never faint.” It was heartwarming and heartbreaking all at once to hear in this young man’s cracking voice his overwhelming love for his great- grandmother and his grief at her death- and I was reminded that although funerals like this are designed to be celebrations, it’s good for everyone present for there to be at least one moment when pure, potent sorrow is unapologetically expressed by someone. My dad will always remember the moment when he called our friends the Tlous (originally from Rhodesia) back in 1988 to tell them that my mom – their beloved friend- had suddenly and quite unexpectedly died. Josiah answered the phone and received the news, and when he turned to his wife Leetha to tell her about my mom, she erupted with a piercing wail of sorrow like nothing my dad had ever heard before. It made him wonder if perhaps there isn’t something for us to learn from those cultures where grief is not tamped down and suppressed but instead voiced with complete freedom and openness.
Pastor Walter was invited back to preach and he handled the task beautifully- especially right off the bat, when he said that he was struggling to know exactly what to say because -in his words- “I want to make Effie proud.” He went on to say that when he and Lynn first came to Holy Communion, now almost a quarter century ago, no one was kinder or more welcoming or more encouraging than Effie. I am so glad that it was possible for Walter to be part of this service celebrating her life.
The congregational hymns were chosen by the family, and they were wonderful choices: the aforementioned “Borning Cry” for the beginning, “My Hope is Built on Nothing Less” (which was also sung at my mom’s funeral) and “Eagle’s Wings” (with the aforementioned text from Isaiah.) I just love the thought that an 85-year-old woman’s list of most favorite hymns would include two modern hymns. That says a lot about her as well. As for special music, I was not surprised that their request was “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” which has been Dick’s special favorite for as long as I can remember. I can think of a couple of times when Kate Barrow has sung something a cappella for funerals and the effect was mesmerizing, so I decided to do that in this case. And I’m glad I did, but it was incredibly difficult- as hard as anything I’ve ever done. There was the intense emotion we were all feeling, as well as the musical nakedness of singing without any accompaniment, which only underscored the poignancy of the moment. I’ve sung demanding opera arias and song cycles, but nothing has ever been harder for me to sing than that relatively simple hymn under these particular circumstances.
For me, the single most enduring image of that service came with the recessional hymn, “Eagle’s Wings,” with great-grandson Nick carrying the processional cross, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he lead Effie’s family down the aisle and out of the sanctuary. The tradition in our congregation is that you face the cross wherever it may be, so when the processional cross is carried down the center aisle, you are to turn and follow it as it passes by your pew- so by the time it is being carried out of the sanctuary, everyone has turned around and is facing the back of the church. As Nick and his family were about halfway down the center aisle, they were very literally surrounded by the whole congregation, looking at them from every side with love and concern. It was a beautiful picture of what the church is meant to be in such moments of difficulty and grief.
pictured above: Effie Reitsma’s husband Dick listens from his wheelchair as his great-grandson reads the lesson from Isaiah. In the congregation at the very bottom of the picture (just to the left of the aisle) are Jeff and Kate Barrow. Pastor Jeff- now Bishop Jeff Barrow- of course knew the Reitsma family so well, but in his new role Jeff has been very sensitive about coming back to perform any pastoral functions in the congregation…. much as people would love him to. But I thought it was neat that he was there, as part of the grieving congregation.
(If you delve into the archives of my blog and bring up my entry for March 21, 2008- you will see a story I wrote about the blizzard which smothered Racine on Good Friday— and how Dick and Effie Reitsma managed somehow to get themselves to church that day. That says a lot about who they are.)