This Saturday, we will have a funeral for Ted Harrison, a pillar of our church and an international figure in the Masonic community, followed by a reception in the Parish House. I expect to hear many, many stories about Ted, and I expect to share a few stories of my own. I’ll also share a story here.
The last time I saw Ted, he was in the hospital. He was predictably cheery, even though he was in a fair amount of pain. He still managed to have a distinguished air about him – no surprise there. And, as always, the light of the Lord shone through his eyes. Ted’s speech was a bit slurred, perhaps from medication, or a recent bump to the head, or his Parkinson’s (which he was quite open about), and despite sounding as clear as a bell when he left me a voicemail a few days later.
In any event, I had a little trouble understanding Ted during our visit that day – that is, until we recited Scripture and prayers together from memory. I still couldn’t make out all of what he was saying, but I could tell he had the words down pat. Psalm 23 (the King James Version, of course), the Lord’s Prayer, the Gloria, and the Venite and Suffrages from the Episcopal service of Morning Prayer.
Then we moved on to singing hymns: “Great is thy faithfulness,” “Crown him with many crowns,” and “Love divine, all loves excelling.” I had to refer to my iPhone for most of the lyrics, but Ted seemed to know every word to every verse by heart. And boy, did he belt them out. It reminded me of all the times I’ve walked past Ted during the procession at the start of worship. I would always hear him singing the opening hymn with gusto and glee, and it lifted my spirits every time.
I kissed Ted on the forehead before I left the hospital. A couple of weeks later, I was anointing his forehead with oil and commending his soul to God. Ted had passed in the night, and I was able to say prayers over his body before the funeral home arrived to take him away. It was a holy moment, to be sure. I told him how much I (and we) love him, and I asked him to please pray for us as we mourn his loss. Perhaps that’s exactly what Ted will be doing this Saturday – praying for God to grant us the “comfort of a reasonable and holy hope.” (Book of Common Prayer, Burial Rite, p. 481).
Moreover, Ted will be rejoicing with us in the promise of resurrection and life eternal with Jesus. And what a celebration it will be! A full choir, piano, string quartet, and banjo to boot. (Ted was a banjo player, if you didn’t know.) We will give him a fitting entry into the saints in light.
Incarnation will feel different without Ted. He was a fixture here, and he carried a big part of the faith on which this church stands. Fortunately for us, he’s passing on that faith through his legacy of discipleship. He increased our faith when he was alive and now gives us a heritage of faith in his death. Let’s take it up, dear Christians. For Ted, and for Jesus, the One who died that we might live, and lives that we might never die.
Adrian+
