The Elder Laughs

Today was the Spring Presbytery meeting. In the opening worship service, after Larry Owens preached a tear 'em up sermon, we had the annual necrology - the reading of elders and ministers who had died within the past year. I was caught off guard to see the name Marthame Elliott Sanders, Jr., listed under elder at First Pres. My first reaction was surprise - he was an ordained deacon, not an elder; then discomfort - grief catchs me at the oddest moments; and finally amusement - as though Dad's still got surprises for me to stumble upon. All this was swirling when Larry got up to pronounce the benediction:

May the God who mothers and fathers you in all good things open your eyes to the children heaven has placed in your way to take you by the hand and lead you home.

It was one of those moments, as though he had written it just for me. There in this service, where we moved from a crisp, prophetic sermon on "let the little children come to me" to a personally jolting necrology, the benediction pulled it all together with one of those deep down gut-created epiphanal smiles. My earthly father was still playing away with that child-like irreverence that both drove me and made me crazy.

I miss you, Dad.