Readings for John Rex White’s Celebration of Life.
- Isaiah 25:6-9
- Revelation 21:2-7
- John 14:1-6
This homily was preached at Christ Episcopal Church in Eureka CA on May 6, 2023.
During my last visit with Rex, we walked together among the redwood trees in Redway, along a path that he called his “Sacred Saunter.” We stopped by the Eel River, where he would often sit and meditate, and we listened to the ripple and flow of the water together. We both felt like there was a third presence walking with us. During that walk, he told me that, when he was younger, he considered pursuing the priesthood in the Episcopal Church, but his priest at the time discouraged him, saying, “Your generation is the first to have relatively easy access to the wisdom of all the major faith traditions in the world. Don’t limit yourself to just one tradition. Explore them all!” And so, explore them all he did. Rex’s spiritual journey, which began in a town called Emmaus, included Qi Gong, Tantra, Tarot, the Back-to-the-Land Movement, Yoga, indigenous spirituality, Kabbalah, Hermeticism, Cistercian spirituality, Vedanta, and much, much more. Rex explored the many dwelling places within the Father’s house. About a month before he died, I told Rex in a text that he had appeared to me in a dream talking about Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, an Indian guru who popularized Transcendental Meditation. He responded, saying, “maha guru” [referring to Maharishi as a great teacher]. He then said, “my study was with swami dayananda.” And he signed off poetically with what ended up being his last words to me, “best to you bright dream.”
I am so grateful that the Episcopal Church and particularly Christ Church Eureka played such an integral role in Rex’s spiritual journey; and I’m honored to have had the privilege of walking with him during his last five years, because he who called me “bright dream” seemed to bring out the best and brightest in those around him through his own radiance. The worship experience was different when Rex was here because he brought such unique depth and devotion and curiosity. One parishioner said that he was operating at a higher frequency than most of us.[1] He served on the vestry when I was being interviewed for the rector position; and his presence and interest in things I shared, particularly about Thomas Merton and other faith traditions, played a crucial role in my own sense of being called here. He videotaped our Celebration of New Ministry on April 20th when I was installed as rector; he inspired an Advent series on Angels; and he wrote and recorded a delightful song inspired by our parish’s mission statement: “Seek, Follow, and Serve.” And whenever he received the consecrated bread from my hands during Communion, he behaved as if he was receiving the greatest gift in the entire world, “the most valuable thing that this world has to offer.”[2] I am so grateful for him and for all the creative gifts he shared so generously with all of us. Today we give thanks for Rex, for our friend who himself practiced and showed gratitude in some of the most beautiful ways I‘ve ever seen.
We also grieve, knowing that grief is an expression of love. It’s all the love we want to give, but cannot. All that unspent love that gathers up in the corners of our eyes, the lump in our throats, the hallow part of our chests. Grief is love with no place to go. Jesus himself wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus; and so, we each grieve in our own way and in our own time, knowing that there is no right way to grieve. The way you grieve is the right way. And we especially extend our deepest care and sympathy and love to Praj and Adona who tragically and abruptly lost their mother Wendy only a few days after losing their father Rex, who I know loved you so much. We pray that God surrounds you with his love as you endure grief upon grief. May you not be overwhelmed your loss, but have confidence in God’s goodness and strength to meet the days to come. Rex told me he always heard your names spoken when I prayed the Hebrew Blessing during the Eucharistic Prayer. He always brought you with him in his heart when he worshipped here.
We grieve; and we give thanks, but that’s not all we’re invited to do in response to the death of our friend, this hippie fisherman who grew up in Emmaus. We are also invited to claim our hope in the promise that for Rex, life is changed, not ended; and although his mortal body lies in death, there is prepared for him a dwelling place eternal in the heavens. The town of Emmaus, where Rex grew up, is named after a town in the Bible that is associated with what is by far the most playful and free-spiritied and Rex-like story of the resurrection. Two disciples walk on the way to Emmaus, overcome with grief and shock because of the brutal death of a Jewish mystic named Jesus. A stranger appears and says, “Hey guys! What are you talking about?” They say, “We’re talking about the only thing that everybody’s talking about. Where have you been? Living under a rock?” And the stranger says with a smile, “So what if I was?” After walking some more and talking about Torah together, the stranger breaks bread and offers it to the disciples, with a twinkle in his eye, as they realize they have been walking with Jesus, walking with the Risen King in disguise, walking with the playful and mischievous Christus Rex. All throughout his spiritual explorations, our friend Rex walked with the playful Christus Rex, sometimes with a guitar in hand, sometimes with a skip in his step, with a dog by his side. Rex was committed to walking in the way of love because he knew that was the only way to the Father, the Source of all Love. Rex walked in the Way of Love as he transformed his pain into beauty through the alchemy of his art, music, and poetry. And now, Rex walks with Wendy ever closer to the Heart of God; and his spirit walks alongside us in playful disguise, echoing the words of Christ: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. In my Father’s house, there are many, many rooms and God has prepared a dwelling place for us, that where I am you may also be,” and if we listen closely, we can hear Rex singing, “No more cryin there, we are going to see the king! Hallelujah, we are going to see the king!” I love the fact that on this day when England crowns their new king, their Rex Anglorum, we honor our own Rex, whose creative free spirit encourages and accompanies us as we walk the way of love, on the road to Emmaus, giving thanks, grieving, and rejoicing all along the way because he walks with us, nudging us toward the dwelling place prepared for us, because we are going with him to see the King of Love, the Risen Christus Rex. Amen.
Christ our King, make you faithful and strong to do his will, that you may reign with him in glory; and the blessing of God almighty, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, rest upon you, and all whom you serve, this day, and all your days. Amen.
[1] Now that I think about it, I wonder if there was a pun intended there with the word “higher,” but either way it’s true. (:
[2] https://mcusercontent.com/884713712461d5df7ee1d45ea/files/ed35e72e-31c5-4ea8-63bd-968ec026bbae/23_24132_Coronation_Liturgy_Commentary.pdf, p. 6.
DANIEL DeFOREST LONDON 