Homily for Moises “Dan” Vega

This homily was preached at the Burial Service for Moises “Dan” Vega (1934 – October 6, 2019) on October 19, 2019 by Fr. Daniel London at Christ Episcopal Church in Eureka CA

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases. His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. Great is your faithfulness, O Lord.

This afternoon we gather to grieve, to give thanks, and to discover peace and even joy in the promise of the resurrection. Our Episcopal prayer book explains that this service is characterized by joy because of the promise of the resurrection; however, this does not make our grief unchristian or inappropriate at all. The love we have for Dan brings deep sorrow now that we are separated by this gateway we call death. Grief is an honorable emotion. It is the expression of the feeling we have about the value of this life. Jesus himself expressed grief in tears as he wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus. God weeps with us so let us give ourselves permission to grieve for as much and for as long as we need.

            Although the grief will remain with us, I invite us to practice gratitude, to give thanks for Dan’s life and the ways he touched our lives. I invite us to give thanks for his years of service in the US Air Force, his gentle presence, his deep love for his wife Marty, his commitment to the church, his generosity of spirit, his laughter and his stories. I am personally thankful for all the stories he shared with me, stories he would often share with me more than once, but always with the same wonder and enthusiasm and twinkle in his eye. And I relished every word. He loved telling me about the time his brother met the pope but refused to kiss the pope’s ring because his brother was a good Baptist. And about his visit to the largest gothic cathedral in the world, St. John the Divine Episcopal cathedral in New York City, where he said he couldn’t even see the altar from the entrance because the cathedral was so enormous, and where the aisle of the nave was so long that a bride could change her mind two or three times before arriving at the chancel. While we ate a delicious Creole dinner together at Bless My Soul Café, I learned about how he met his wife Marty on a blind date arranged by a bartender. While visiting him at St. Joseph’s hospital after a knee surgery, I learned about his love for the LA Rams and military mystery novels. And more recently, I learned about his travels to Tahiti, New Zealand, Australia, Korea, Japan and beyond with his wife Marty. He shared some of these final stories with me while blanketed by a prayer quilt made by the quilters here at Christ Church and blessed by each member of the congregation. Although the hospice services offered to make him a special quilt since he was a veteran, he refused to use any other quilt other than the one that was made and covered with the blessings and prayers of his church family. Dan said, “This is the one and only.” Dan knew the power of prayer. As a child, he was dedicated to the church and blessed by the great evangelist preacher Amy Semple McPherson (1890 – 1944); and throughout his life, he would often pray, knowing full well what a privilege it is to carry everything to God in prayer; and he would give thanks to God, frequently telling Marty, “We are so blessed.” So in honor of Dan’s rich spirituality and prayer life, I invite us, no matter where we are with God, no matter what we believe (or don’t believe) about God, to make this service complete by whispering a prayer of deep gratitude for Dan Vega, a beautiful and unique expression of God’s abiding love. 

            We gather here to grieve, to give thanks, and to discover peace and joy in the promise of the resurrection. When we processed in here, Deacon Anne carried the Paschal Candle and placed it beside the altar. This candle is only brought out during the Easter season and we are not in the Easter season yet, but we make an exception today because this memorial service is an Easter service, a service that finds all its meaning in the great proclamation of Easter, which is also the great proclamation of the entire church: the Resurrection of Jesus Christ; and the promise that because Jesus was raised from the dead, we too shall be raised. It is the same promise expressed in the ancient book of Wisdom, which we read, when it says, “the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them; they will abide with God in love” (Wisdom 3:1,9). In fact, this is the great promise we celebrate every Sunday. The reason Christians gather on Sunday is because it is the day Christ rose from the grave. So every Sunday is a feast of the resurrection. And it was on a Sunday, a day of resurrection, that Dan passed from this life into the resurrection life. I imagine the angels and maybe Amy Semple McPherson helped arrange it that way so that we know, without a shred of doubt, that Dan is now enjoying his heavenly reward.

Dan passed on only moments before we as a congregation read aloud the very same words from the book of Lamentations that his wife Marty chose for this service. Marty did not know that these words happened to be the Old Testament reading assigned in the lectionary on the morning Dan entered into resurrection life. This reading from Lamentations occurs only once every three years (in our lectionary) and it is the central conclusion of a book that is actually full of deep grief and sorrow. For pages and pages, the author laments the profound tragedy and loss that has tormented him and his people, “but,” he says, “this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness” (3:21-23). Radical resurrection hope pierces right through the middle of the book of Lamentations like a bright blade of green grass, through a cement sidewalk, reaching for the sun. And in the Ancient Near Eastern texts, the conclusion does not come at the end, but right in the middle. The conclusion to the book of Lamentations and the conclusion to Dan’s life is God’s ceaseless and steadfast love; and God’s never-ending mercies which are new every morning. And I know that every morning, Dan’s gentle presence will remain with all those whom he loved and who loved him. I believe his gentle spirit will remain here in this church, especially at the 8 AM Sunday service, when we gather at the altar to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, the resurrection which Dan is now enjoying, as he feasts at heavenly cafes that will bless his soul forever, as he worships at cathedrals that make St. John the Divine cathedral look like a tiny shack, and as he basks in the steadfast love of the Lord with angels and archangels and all the hosts of heaven forever crying, “Holy Holy Holy is the Lord God Almighty.” We join him in that song as we continue in our worship this day and every day. Amen.