Homily for the Memorial Service of Bryan Gray, The Reverend David R. Williams, April 2, 2005

“Something is wrong here. Can someone do something to stop it?” I believe Bobbe offered these profound words sometime this last week. She speaks for all of us.

Even here as we gather in this sacred place on a Saturday afternoon – Easter Saturday – we all feel something is out of balance, not right.

None of us could halt the inevitable departure of one loved so dearly, our Bryan Gray – so youthful, so loyal and wise to family and friends.

Not often have we seen the entire Gray family together in church. Something is up. Special occasions such as the baptisms of Tamala and Brad’s children, the baptism of Curtis and his sermon on Youth Sunday, the baptism of David Gude and a few weddings have attracted the entire Gray clan to church at one time.
But today is something very different.

A voice inside us still cries, “Stop this. It cannot be really happening.”

Bryan could take charge. He has always taken charge of an event – family, church, community. Funeral for Bryan Gray? Bryan and Bobbe met with the Rector and Minister of Music to plan this service. We met maybe two months ago.

“Stop this nonsense,” our inner voices cry.

Sure, Bryan, Charles and I respond. We’ll get all of the necessary facts and plans in place for the service – and then we shall file it all for some long-away, future use.

In this discussion, Bryan, Bobbe, Charles and I plan and take notes. The question is asked, “Why do people come to funerals? For the person who has just died? Or do we gather to proclaim the Glory of God?”

“People come to the funeral to give praise to God as they deal with their own feelings of loss,” Bryan says.
“No, dear, they come because they love the person who has died. You are loved because you have done so much for so many people,” replies Bobbe.

To proclaim God or to give recognition to the person we have lost? Why are we here on a Saturday afternoon – Easter Saturday?

Somebody is missing. And Bryan is still in charge.

After Bryan’s body was taken from the Hospice Home, I gathered with Bobbe and with the many offspring who had been present with Bryan when he died. We stood in a circle in the parking lot.

“Well, what do we do now?” asks someone. Silence. “Well, Bryan,” blurts out another one of us, “Tell us what to do!”

Another voice mentions Curtis. “We have to tell Curtis. He is in his classes at North Carolina State.” An astounding thing happens in the next few moments. Several scenarios are mentioned about getting the word to Curtis about his grandfather. And a plan is offered.

”All in favor?” someone says, and a bunch of hands go up into the air for a vote. Smiles come over all of our faces. My own thoughts are that Bryan has left a legacy. Something unique just happened here.

And, still, we want to stop this. This scenario here in our church does not fit. Not now.

Bryan could be stubborn. Yes. To his children, he had a look. Words did not have to be spoken. The look said it all. No matter who – Brad, Barry, Beverly, Barbara, Ben – when the look was there, they knew what their Dad was saying.

Nobody, nothing, was more important to Bryan than his beloved partner in life, Bobbe. Having eloped as teenagers, crossing the Mason Dixon line from New Jersey all the way to a tiny town in North Carolina to say their vows and have a Baptist minister sign the legal piece of paper, Bryan and Bobbe established roots and a future life in the South.

Our wonderful folks of Allied Churches can say their doors might very well be closed if Bryan Gray had not entered into its life and ministry as a Board member – eventually becoming a volunteer Interim Director for a most crucial period of time.

Seeds for the most recent stage in Holy Comforter’s building upgrade project – our recent and immense heating and air renovation project – were planted by Bryan Gray. Tomorrow during our Second Sunday in Easter service we will celebrate the completion of this renovation – with the thought that Bryan’s last stated desire was that his beloved church retire its building debt and also maintain hope for a Tower providing access to all God’s children.

I can say from the depths of my heart that, as Rector of Holy Comforter, I have felt privileged to consider Bryan a loyal colleague in ministry – and a dear friend.

“Stop,” we say, “This loss cannot be real.”

“We come to a funeral to proclaim the Glory of God,” Bryan says. Bryan has always joined with Bobbe in singing in the funeral choir, “We are not present merely to praise the person being remembered.”

In my homilies, I often direct people to the beauty of the memorial or funeral service. Listen to those opening words spoken by our Lord.

“I am the Resurrection…” No one can say these words other than one who stands over and above all of our earthly understanding and misunderstandings, over and above our feelings of loss, our desire to change the destiny before us, our cries to “stop.”

“I am Resurrection and Life,” says the Lord.

In our grief, we hear of Isaiah drawing an image of a feast of well-aged wines.

Not long ago, Bryan, lying in his bed at the Hospice Home, was offered Communion by two of our Lay Ministers. The bread was carefully dipped into the wine chalice and given to Bryan. With barely opened eyes, Bryan saw the chalice, reached out his hand out and grabbed it, putting it to his lips and drinking every drop.

“God will wipe away the tears from all faces.”

Psalm 46 centers our attention on the power of the One standing outside our human understanding. We hear, “God is our refuge and strength.” The Psalmist draws images of the chaos and instability, the movement of the earth and the toppling of the mountains of this fragile and temporal world.

Truly our balance has been upset in the loss of Bryan, a most stable one.

“Be still then…” Can we hear Bryan read to us from the words of scripture? “Be still then,” our Lord says, “and know (who really) is God.”

The passage from Second Corinthians quiets us, enables us to discern between that which we can see—and that which we have yet to know. We know the outer body, deteriorating, aging and dying. And we seek the inner Spirit, the wisdom and the logos moving us into Eternal Life.

Bobbe, you are right. None of us would be here on this particular Saturday afternoon if it were not for Bryan. Our loss, our praise and love for Bryan bring us together in this sacred place.

And Bryan, wherever you are – we know you are listening. You also are right, once more. Deep in our hearts, we have a hard time making sense of your departure. We gather with your lovely family as we grieve and struggle for some sense of it all.

All we can do is to lean on the glory of God’s resurrected presence and give thanks. Because of the mysterious presence throughout the ages of a Risen Lord, even in that most dreaded and feared of all life’s challenges, the Grave and Gate of death, we can sing, “Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia.”

Amen.