When I started writing this eulogy I thought I was going to use the passage where Jesus calls the children to him and then tells the disciples that to enter the kingdom of heaven, they need to become like these children. In many ways Debra was like a child and I think there is much to appreciate about this, but as I began to write, I started to realize that even more than a child in our midst, Debra was a teacher. Not just a teacher, she was our teacher and so this passage came to me.
Matthew 5:1-10
Now when he saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, 2 and he began to teach them, saying:
3 "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
4 Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
5 Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
6 Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
7 Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
8 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
9 Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
10 Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
When Jesus saw the crowds he went up on a mountainside, sat down and began to teach them. Like Jesus teaching the disciples, Debra taught us. What do teachers do? They impart knowledge. I know Debra was a teacher because I know God better because I have known Debra. How many of you would say the same? This morning I want to reflect on a few of those ways that Debra was our teacher.
Debra taught us to serve
Debra taught us how to serve. She first showed up at Manitou with Doreen who was her mentor/employer/boss/coach. She came to work in the food and clothing bank. At times she hung around in the adult clothing section and folded clothes. Other times she sat on the stairs and welcomed people and she never turned down the offer of a cup of coffee. Anyone who has regularly spent time at the food bank has probably felt like it was a bit of a burden, "Ah we have food bank today." I’m not sure if Debra ever felt that way. Until her stroke, she found a way to get there. Even after her stroke she shared how she wanted to come back and help. “The Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve…” (Mat. 20:28) Like Jesus, Debra taught us how to serve.
Debra taught us about worship
At some point in her food bank career Debra suddenly told us that she wanted to come to church. Of course, we said, please do. I don’t know if any of us thought more about her declaration and I don’t remember any of us offering to pick her up. Debra didn’t live close enough to walk. I’m not sure she was a morning person and she certainly didn’t drive so I’m not sure any of us really expected her to show up that Sunday. And yet, there around 9:30 we heard a beep, beep, beep and saw the blue shuttle pulling up. Down the steps and out of the swinging doors stepped Debra ready, excited to be at church, to be with people and to worship God.
I often begin worship with the words of the Psalmist, “I was glad when they said unto me Let us go up to the house of the Lord.” Even though we say this, many times we aren’t that glad to come up to the house of the Lord, but not Debra. I cannot think of a time she wasn’t glad to be here. Debra showed us how to be glad to worship.
Debra taught us how to evangelize
When you hear the word evangelist you probably get some image of a guy with white hair and a slick suit swinging the Bible around from a pulpit. It’s unfortunate this is our image because an evangelist is simply person who shares good news. Who doesn’t like good news? One of the phrases we use to describe Manitou is ‘community worth sharing.’ This is an evangelical phrase that says this community with God and each other is worth sharing, it is good news. From time to time some of us, believe it or not, will even share this with other people and even invite them here. But of all the people in this church, in my fourteen years here no one has brought more people to church than Debra. This community was undoubtedly worth sharing to her and so she did.
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| Jessica, Jackie and Debra with Talullah |
Pretty soon after Debra started coming on Sundays she was joined by this platinum haired jovial young lady Jackie. Not long after that came this young roly poly guy named Shawn. Then not much later they were joined by Phyllis and then by this other young lady who was always dressed in Seahawks gear and talking about the Mariners, yes Jessica. Four people began coming to Manitou because of Debra. If every person in this church brought half as many people to church as Debra did, we wouldn’t have enough room. You don’t have to have gone to seminary or be an elder or even be able to live alone to share the good news. Debra taught us that it is as simple as saying, do you want to come with me?
Can you remember the last time you received a letter, I mean an actual handwritten letter? Most of us get plenty of e-mails and texts, but handwritten letters are going the way of the dinosaur. But not if Debra had anything to do with it. How many of you received a something like this from Debra? Every few Sundays Debra would show up with a stack of letters she’d meticulously handwritten with capital letters and proceed to pass them out like Santa Claus on Christmas day.
"What does this have to do with the Bible?" you might be asking. Well, guess what most of the New Testament is. Yep letters. In a way the Bible is a collection of letters from God to humanity that has been preserved through the ages. God is constantly writing to us. Debra taught and reminded me of this.
Debra taught us Perseverance
After a few years here we received word that Debra had had a stroke. I was told by more than one person that this might be it for her. I went to visit her and didn’t argue with the assessment. She was lying in a bed, couldn’t talk, couldn’t walk, couldn’t feed herself and couldn’t get up. Any road to recovery was going to be a long one, if it was even possible. I don’t know about you, but were I in such a situation I know I’d have been tempted just to call it quits, be done, let go. To be sure that time eventually comes for all of us and no one would have blamed Debra for letting go, but what did she do instead? She worked. She fought. She exercised. She rehabbed and eventually she spoke words again. Eventually she walked again. Eventually she even began to write letters again and eventually, we heard the beep, beep, beep and who came shuffling, with a new walker, into the church?
“Not only do we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance, character, and character hope and hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts.” (Romans 5:3-5) Debra taught us about perseverance, about hope.
Debra taught us to be the church
A couple of months ago Debra started to have some, let’s say digestive problems at church. It began during Sunday School where it was usually the case that she had to get up in the middle of class to shuffle down to the bathroom. Only later did we realize that her number of trips to the bathroom was directly correlated with the strength of the coffee that morning. On one of her trips back she sat down and informed us that someone had pooped on the toilet. Okay, I replied, do you have any idea how this might have happened? Debra vigorously shook her head. After finishing class we passed by the bathroom to see Tracy, one of our elders on the floor cleaning things up.
Two weeks later we had another incident. This time it was at the beginning of worship and it was obvious Debra had not made it to the bathroom. Without blinking Sherry took her to get cleaned up while Beth got her some fresh clothes from the food bank. I don’t know if I’ve ever been more honored to be the pastor of this congregation than after I saw how you responded to Debra those days.
Towards the end of the book of Matthew Jesus praises a group of people for caring for him. "But when did we care for you?" they ask. "For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me." (To these Jesus might have added, “I soiled my clothes and you cleaned me up.) "I tell you the truth, what do to the least of these, you have done to me." If meeting Christ in the least of these isn’t being the church than I don’t know what is. Debra taught us how to be the church.
Now at this point you may be thinking such talk isn’t quite what you’d want shared about you at your funeral. I get that, but let me press a little further in, because I think it reveals both more about Debra as well as God. The story goes even deeper and Debra had another lesson for us.
Debra taught us the gospel, to not be ashamed
It is one thing to be the one who cleans someone else up, but what if you are the one who needs to be cleaned up? Let me ask you this question, had you had Debra’s struggles at church, how many of us would have remained in worship? And yet, there was Debra smiling in her clothing bank outfit. And then the next Sunday, how many of us would be too ashamed to come back to church? But not Debra, there she was the next Sunday, one of the first people here.
Shame is one of the most powerful forces in the world and it is almost always a negative force. Think of how much we have hidden, how much we have avoided, how much we have failed to risk or share because of shame. Heck, much of church feels designed for us to ignore or hide the things we are ashamed of, but this is not the gospel - just the opposite. “I am not ashamed of the gospel,” writes Paul, “because it is the power of God for salvation…” (Romans 1:16) Paul was referring to the seemingly embarrassing fact that his God was killed in the most dehumanizing and demoralizing way - his God was hung on a cross - the most shameful of things and yet, what does Jesus do three days later - he shows up. If our God was not ashamed of being hung naked on a cross, then what have we to be ashamed?
Sure Debra had a little shame around her accident, but it was not near enough to keep her from hiding from the community. She was not ashamed of her struggles. When we said, "you are God's child, beloved with whom God is pleased," she believed us. Like Jesus, she decided that identity was far greater than being identified as someone who'd had an accident. This is a lesson I have much to learn in, but Debra has been my teacher.
She Taught us Hugs
Finally, we come to what I feel is Debra’s signature revelation of God - hugs. It was a little surprising at first when in the middle of the sermon Debra got up and shuffled across the sanctuary to Kylee or Jeremy or Beth to lean over and offer a hug. It’s a little surprising at first, and I’ve had fun watching the eyes of visitors when this happens. They cease paying any attention to what I am saying and follow Debra to see what she is doing.
Someone asked me along the way if this bothered me. I had to think about that for a minute before honestly replying no, it didn’t and here’s why.
We were in Sunday School one morning and discussing the parable of the servants and the talents. You know this parable. One servant doubles is five to ten, another doubles his three to six, but the last servant buries his and does nothing with it. When the master finds out he praises the first two, but berates the third before casting him out into the dark where there is weeping and gnashing of teeth. After reading the story, I asked if this was what God is like? Is God one who belittles the failing servant and casts them out into darkness. The group was stumped. I mean usually it seems the Father plays the God role in Jesus story, but didn’t sound like God. We were getting into the discussion and I was just about to give my take on the passage when Debra got up.
Now I’ll admit to being a little frustrated. I was about to drop some pearls of wisdom on this group and Debra was interrupting. I stopped talking as she shuffled across the room to the couch where Kodi sat, who just weeks before had lost her Father. Slowly, carefully Debra, opened her arms, leaned down and into Kodi hugging her for several moments while saying the few words her stroke-ridden voice could speak, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...I’m sorry.” She raised back up, turned with tears in her eyes and slowly shuffled back to her seat as we all watched in silence. There was nothing else to say, nothing else to teach. What was God like? Debra had answered our question.
The way out…
Debra hugging others was not an interruption to my sermon, it was a sermon. Debra hugging others was not just talking about God, it was being the presence of God. Oh how I’m going to miss that. I didn’t realize that until two weeks ago.
In the middle of the service we gather the children in a circle for a blessing and almost always Debra joins us in that circle. But two weeks ago there was a hole in the circle. Debra wasn’t here and we knew she wasn’t coming back. It was then it hit me, it hit us all I think how much she had become an essential part of our community. How would we be Manitou without Debra?
Someday, when we meet her on the other side of the Jordan, she like all of us will be recognizable, while having been made whole. Some day we will meet her again and I will ask about leaving us. I imagine she will say something like, “What else did you need from me? I taught you everything I knew.” And then, as in the olden days, we will hug. |
| Debra Cook September 2, 1954 - February 19, 2017 |
