The Rev. Wilbert S. Miller First Lutheran Church-San Diego The Service of Resurrection for Sonia Marie Turner-Sampson October 31, 2014 “Sonia at the Gate” Luke 16: 19-31 “There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores. The poor man died and was carried away by the angels to be with Abraham. The rich man also died and was buried. In Hades, where he was being tormented, he looked up and saw Abraham far away with Lazarus by his side. He called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue; for I am in agony in these flames.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here, and you are in agony. Besides all this, between you and us a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who might want to pass from here to you cannot do so, and no one can cross from there to us.’ He said, ‘Then, father, I beg you to send him to my father’s house— for I have five brothers—that he may warn them, so that they will not also come into this place of torment.’ Abraham replied, ‘They have Moses and the prophets; they should listen to them.’ He said, ‘No, father Abraham; but if someone goes to them from the dead, they will repent.’ He said to him, ‘If they do not listen to Moses and the prophets, neither will they be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.’” Sonia Marie Turner-Sampson was our Lazarus at the gate. We will not forget her sitting at the top of our patio steps, welcoming us here every morning and, more often than not, saying “good night” as we left at eight or nine in the evening. She was so kind; she kept watch over our patio and church. Often times, when we gather on occasions like this, we have so much to say: we remember a person’s achievements, comfort their grieving family, laugh at the good times we had together. Sadly, this morning, there will be little of that. We don’t know lots of stories about Sonia; we don’t know her family; we don’t know much, if anything, about when she was a little girl in Vermont. Yes, Sonia was our Lazarus at the gate. How many times did I simply pass her by, saying not much more than “good morning, Sonia,” not spending enough time to talk and learn her stories? There was a profound loneliness we all felt passing her on the top step of the stair case. Where did she go when she left here at night? Who watched over her to protect her? Did she receive a Christmas card as of late? “And at his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores.” So utterly alone… And yet, astonishingly, in her final year or so, a group of caring folks gathered around Sonia. They are here this morning. We give thanks for the people who cared for Sonia at the board and care where she stayed in her final days, offering her dignity and comfort. I also am grateful for those of you who live on the streets, as did Sonia, and who watched over her—I know you did because you told me so. Nance Lovell along with Elaine Bertram and the other Simon’s Walk volunteers and Jim Lovell, the Director of the Third Avenue Charitable Organization (TACO)—you all cared deeply for Sonia; you got to know her better than many; you took the time to listen to her stories; you offered her dignity and compassionate care when she needed it most. I thank you for raising her up beyond the dogs licking her sores. You embraced her, cried with her, dreamed with her, made promises to care for her at the end. You talked to her about today. She wanted a church service and you have made sure this happened. Strangely, Sonia rarely if ever set foot in this sanctuary—her place, I guess, was at the gate with Lazarus, perhaps a holier place than here, who really knows? Isn’t it a mysterious wonder that we gather to thank God for her life and to entrust her to God? Who knows exactly what she thought when she sat at the top of the steps, her little outdoor sanctuary, her oasis, smoking those little cigarillos? Do you think she ever dreamed of abandoning her step, to come through the church doors, into this sanctuary? Or do you think she had more wonderful dreams? Sonia told the Simon’s Walk folks that she wanted one thing in her funeral and that was to have John Lennon’s lovely “Imagine” played. We will listen to it in a few moments, but hear a few words. Imagine no possessions I wonder if you can No need for greed or hunger A brotherhood of man Imagine all the people Sharing all the world... You may say Im a dreamer But Im not the only one I hope someday youll join us And the world will live as one… Whatever Sonia dreamed, I pray she knew the story of Lazarus. “Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that during your lifetime you received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner evil things; but now he is comforted here.’” What a dream! Maybe she was imagining a day when she would arrive in heaven and Lazarus would be at the gate welcoming her home. They knew each other at 3rd and Ash, I’m sure they did. With a little imagining, you can hear Lazarus welcoming her into heaven now as he says to Sonia, “You are not going to believe the table set for you here where we gather in God’s presence with angels singing.” Like John Lennon, the church, at its best, has had a poetic imagination. The church refuses to look at Sonia at the top of the stairs and say this is how things will be forever. At the conclusion of this service, we will use the poetry from the traditional requiem mass. It is known as In Paradisum (into Paradise) and is sung at the conclusion of the funeral liturgy as we will do. See if you can hear the church’s ancient dream for Sonia? Into paradise may the angels lead you. At your coming may the martyrs receive you and lead you into the holy city, Jerusalem. May a choir of angels welcome you, and where Lazarus is poor no more, may you have everlasting rest. Let us dare to imagine this for Lazarus and for our dear Sonia.
Posted on: Fri, 31 Oct 2014 20:50:56 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015