Our Saints Next Door

Homily for the Burial of David MacNair
April 20, 2024

In each of the Gospels, there is a tone of incredulity surrounding Jesus’ resurrection, such as (for example)in Luke:  

Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told [the news of Jesus’ resurrection] to the apostles.  But these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them. (Luke 24:10-11)

If the disciples were shocked and incredulous to hear of Jesus’ resurrection, so were we shocked and perhaps incredulous to hear of David’s death.  “But he was just here watering the flowers,” I said to Lois.  “But he was just here polishing the silver for the party to celebrate Jess’ and Amelia’s Baptisms,” said another.  “But he was just here serving as crucifer,” “But he was just here mowing his lawn,” “But he was just here going for a walk.” David was just here.  And so it is no surprise that we were shocked and perhaps incredulous to hear the news of David’s death, and we can be forgiven if at first the news of his death (to quote Luke) seemed to us “an idle tale, and we did not believe it.”

David was just here.  And his loss is difficult.  Very difficult.

Speaking of difficult…  Did you know David could be difficult?  And we loved him!  And he loved us.  Did you know – in the words of the grade school principal who made David repeat the third grade – [did you know] David was a “dreamer?”  Of course David was a “dreamer;” being a “dreamer” was part of what made David David – and we loved him!  And he loved us.  And I bet you didn’t know that David could be stubborn – David could be so stubborn.  And we loved him!  And he loved us.

David was just here; and we loved him, and he loved us.  In St. John’s Gospel, from whom we just heard, presence and love are marks of discipleship.  “Abide in me as I abide in you,” said Jesus (John 15:4).  To “abide” in essence means “to show up.”  David “showed up.”  No matter the day or the time, during the seventeen years that I have known David, at any given time on any given day it well could have been true that “David was just here.”  David was just here polishing the silver; David was just here decorating the church; David was just here setting up for the reception;  David was just here working on his parish history project; David was just here doing Treasurer’s tasks; David was just here planting flowers; David was just here watering flowers; David was just here leading the prayers; David was just here reading a lesson; “David was just here ______,” fill in the blank. Anytime help was needed, anytime I asked – anytime anyone of us asked – David was “just here.”  David showed up.  David was an exemplar of Jesus’ teaching to “Abide in me as I abide in you.”  

And – as Jesus said elsewhere in St. John’s Gospel, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another” – (John 13:35) – we loved David, and David loved us.  He had opinions about light fixtures, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He set up for coffee hour, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He had opinions about how to tell (or not tell) the parish history, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He decorated the church for Christmas and for Palm Sunday and for Easter, and we loved him, and he loved us. He could object strenuously to this change or that, and we loved him, and he loved us.  (Is that enough?  No…)  He was willing to serve six years as Treasurer, and we loved him, and he loved us.  Sometimes, his was the sole Vestry vote in opposition, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He was willing to serve as a delegate to Diocesan Convention, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He had opinions about paint colors, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He could be counted on to serve as crucifer or to take a chalice at Communion or to serve as usher, and we loved him, and he loved us. (Is that enough?  No…)  He could be difficult, and we loved him, and he loved us.  He beautifully decorated the common rooms for events, and we loved him, and he loved us. He could be a “dreamer,” and we loved him, and he loved us.  He was willing to polish not just the silver but the brass (which does not polish easily), and we loved him, and he loved us.  He could be stubborn, and we loved him, and he loved us. He (as he put it) “castrated” the lilies for Easter (removing their stamens, so that the pollen didn’t stain vestments or the altar paraments), and we loved him, and he loved us.  The list could go on…. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”  David reminded us how everyone will know that we are Jesus’ disciples: for we loved David, and David loved us.

David’s death is difficult,and I have a hunch that we will be processing David’s loss for months if not years.  As difficult as David’s death is,and as much as I miss him, David’s death is not without hope, his death is not without (dare I say) joy.  For in the vision of the heavenly city Jerusalem at the end of the book of Revelation, the author writes of seeing in that city a river:

Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb through the middle of the street of the city. (Rev 22:1-2)

When a deeply faithful Christian like David “crosses over,” it is as though the rest of us still on the near shore momentarily have been splashed.  When we’re in a place to receive it, to have been “splashed” even momentarily with the water from the river in that city brings deep joy.  David’s “splash” brings joy because we know – given David’s faithful “abiding in me as I abide in you,” given David’s “loving one another as I have loved you,” given David’s seventy-four years of faithfully following our Lord as his disciple – [we know] that David does indeed “behold him who is my friend and not a stranger,” and David’s “splash” reminds us that this hope is ours as well.  

Shortly we will celebrate Holy Eucharist.  The Church teaches that in the Eucharist the Body of Christ here on earth receives “a foretaste of the heavenly banquet which is our nourishment in eternal life” (BCP, p 859); which is to say, we sit down with the saints who have gone before and together feed on Him who is our Lord and our God. We sit down with, say, Theresa of Avila and St. Benedict; we sit down with the Blessed Virgin Mary and St. Joseph; we sit down with all those (to quote Pope Francis) [with all those] “saints next door,” most of whose names we do not know, but some whose names we do:  “saints next door” like Robert Yuan, like David Nelson, like Eleanor King, like Bette LaMacchia, and now “saints next door” like  David MacNair.

God gave us a great gift in giving us David.  In David, God gave us a witness of faithful abiding, a witness to the power of showing up.  In David, God gave us one who loved us, and whom we loved return.  He was a faithful disciple.  May God comfort us in our grief, and may the “splash” that David has generated reverberate and continue to reverberate among us who knew him and who still are here on the nearshore.  

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