Homily for Dan Dennis July 30, 2022, Luke 24:13-31, An Eight O’clocker, On the Road to Emmaus
“O God of grace and glory, we remember before you this day our brother, Dan. We thank you for giving him to us..to know and to love as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage. Amen”1
Dan was an exceptional person. He was an eight o’clocker. He was among that rare breed of churchgoers who attend Sunday services at the earliest hour. I know them well as my brother was one. Since fewer people are at these services, they often wear many hats. Dan was an usher, greeter, lector and sometimes eucharistic minister. They serve on vestries, finance committees, search committees, and go to diocesan conventions. I loved getting to St. Luke’s on Sunday morning when I knew Dan would be there. I could be assured everything was ready for the service, and we wouldn’t be scrambling at the last moment. He would have checked the candles, the altar, and had all the bulletins ready. So, it was understandable how we became fast friends. Dan was always there for funerals, and at St. Luke’s, he also was in charge of the Columbarium. This gave him the title of funeral director for that church.
But he did more/that many people are not aware of. At St. Luke’s, he also hired the nursery personnel. I learned about Dan’s compassion and love for others in this role. He didn’t simply hire people. He got to know them and care about them. He learned about their trials and triumphs of life. Once when one became ill and died, he arranged for her service and reception there at St. Luke’s and probably covered the cost. The nursery women gave him the name of Father Dan, and it stuck.
We would suggest an event at church, and Dan was immediately there to help. I remember Dan and Gary serving breakfasts at St. Luke’s that were outstanding, but not very healthy. My husband called them guilty pleasures.
Dan helped keep the men’s group going at St. Luke’s so that other men could enjoy each other’s fellowship. I treasure that I was even invited one Saturday morning to the men’s sacred meeting.
We remember Dan’s devotion to the men of St. Francis House and the veterans living there. His dinners for them with Gary and Dicky and others were like none others. He would have gifts for the men and sit and talk and hear their stories. I know he continued that tradition here at St. Stephens.
Dan was indeed a sharing person. We will miss finding fresh corn, tomatoes, or peaches at our door at various times during the year.
Even though this all sounds like so much, I am only sharing the small part of Dan’s life that I knew for the five years we were together at St. Luke’s. I know Dan’s work was important to him, and people in that part of his life would tell similar stories to mine. I know he loved and was devoted to Jennifer and his family, and I hope they will share their stories of his love, compassion, and caring with so many of you today. //
This morning, as we carry the ashes of Dan Dennis in and out of this sacred space, we are sacramentally carrying him back to God. We know Dan is already with God, but this funeral liturgy allows us, in effect, to shout out a prayerful petition to God, “God, get ready! Here comes Dan! A sinner of your redeeming, and a lamb of your own flock. You have given him to us, and now with gratitude for the gift of his life, we are returning him to you.” Our prayers are like prayers with the offering, “We give thee, but thine own,” except, in this case, the offering is not money but the life of one we love.2
Dan was an Easter person, a resurrection person. The gospel we just heard is an Easter gospel. It is about two disciples leaving Jerusalem after Jesus’ death to return home to Emmaus,/ who meet Jesus on the road but do not recognize him. This afternoon, we are friends walking the road to Emmaus, coming to St. Stephen’s, trying to find a safe place to process the life and death of our dearly beloved friend. Like those on the road, we talk to each other about our friend, Dan, who touched so many lives.
It is indeed an early Christian tradition to tell stories about the one who died, as his body is on its pilgrimage to its final burial place. We tell stories because Christians believe death changes/but does not destroy. Death is not the period at the end of a sentence, but more like a comma where Dan, in death, enters a new relationship with God AND a new relationship with us. Our experience is that God does not give us a loving relationship like his and then let it stop abruptly with death. The relationship is still there/but in some different form. So we tell stories about Dan to continue that relationship as we see through the prism of his life, both in glad and sorrowful memories, refractions of the grace and love of God.
As you have heard from Gary, so many will miss our friend, Dan, St. Stephen’s senior warden.//
Can our Anglican tools of Scripture, tradition, and reason help us process Dan’s life/ and his physical departure from us, much too soon?
What does Scripture tell us about death? The New Testament describes how Jesus wept at the death of his friend Lazarus. Our mentor is telling us that weeping is what we should do. At his own death, Jesus asks God, “God, where are you?” He is telling us that doubting, arguing, feeling abandoned are feelings just as Christian as feeling held in God’s arms. 3,4
What does our reason tell us about death, which includes our own experience with grief and death? Just like Jesus on the road to Emmaus, our loved ones who have died are not only in a new relationship with God, but also with us. We may only recognize their presence at certain times. Death changes, but does not destroy our communion with the saints, those we love. We all have shared experiences of knowing the presence of loved ones after they died, doing things we knew we had never been able to do before because of some presence very near, guiding, still caring for us. The Hebrew Bible or Old Testament gives an excellent description of this experience. As Elijah is about to die, he asks his beloved companion, Elisha, “Tell me what I may do for you, before I am taken from you.” Elisha responds, “Please let me inherit a double share of your spirit.” Elijah says, “You have asked a hard thing.” You know the story. As Elijah ascends in a whirlwind into heaven, he leaves his mantle or shawl for Elisha. That will also be our experience. Dan has left us a mantle that all of us here will be wearing. Dan, like Jesus, is resurrected and will be with us always throughout all eternity. His presence no longer depends on time and space.
When our loneliness is so deep that we cannot see or feel anything else, our reason, our experience, our tradition, our Scripture tell us that even though our pain is true,/ it is not the ultimate truth. Beyond all our pain is the beauty, truth, and love of God in Jesus Christ, which never dies. This love surrounds us with all the saints, who are with us throughout all eternity.
And finally, today, our Scripture offers members of Dan’s family and his friends another image/ to hold onto/ as we process his death. The image will be a road,/ the road to Emmaus,/ the road we travel when our loneliness is great,/ because we will so miss the person who taught us about unconditional love./ But, suddenly, at some time, like the disciples on the Road to Emmaus,/ the one/ they thought/ they had lost /is there by their side,/ with Jesus and all the saints with him. Sometimes he may be challenging to recognize. But we will know them when we invite them in. This is better expressed in this prayer we offer for Dan:
“Eternal God, you love us with a greater love than we can neither know nor understand: We give you the highest praise and hearty thanks for the good example of your servant, Dan, who now is in the larger life of your heavenly Presence; who here on this earth was a tower of strength for all of us, who stood by us and helped us; who cheered us by his sympathy and encouraged us by his example; who looked not disdainfully on the outward appearance, but lovingly into the hearts of men and women; he rejoiced to serve all people; his loyalty was steadfast, and his friendship unselfish and secure; his joy was to know more about you and be of service. Grant that he may continue to find abiding peace and wisdom in your heavenly kingdom, and that we may carry forward his unfinished work for you on this earth; through Jesus Christ our Lord.”5 Amen
Joanna Seibert
1Burial II in BCP, p. 493.
2Thomas Long, “O Sing to Me of Heaven: Preaching at Funerals,” Journal for Preachers, 21-26, vol. 29, no. 3, Easter 2006.
3Jeffrey J. Newlin, “Standing at the Grave,” This Incomplete One, pp. 121-130.
4Gary W. Charles, “The E Prayer,” Journal for Preachers, 47-50, vol. 29, no. 3, Easter 2006.
5. J. B. Bernardin in Burial Services p. 117