Proper 25 Yr C If we aren’t all in this together, we aren’t in it at all. October 27 , 2013

Today’s parable convicts me. It convicts me because I, just like the Pharisee, have prayed the prayer of Thank God it’s them and not me. It convicts me, because of how many times I’ve  encountered someone and instead of responding in love, I’ve responded in fear. Someone homeless or mentally ill or intoxicated or in distress, or smelly or different or or or… How many times have I avoided these people and rationalized my actions by thinking, “well I give money to charities that care for people like them, I’m a good person, I’ve done enough? Truth be told, while I feel ashamed about this behavior, I can easily cover it with false righteousness.
It convicts me because I’m reminded that my actions are not that of a humble, God loving, God trusting person, but rather the actions of an uptight, rigid, going to always play by the rules of society—ignoring the cost-- person. In other words, it convicts me because it makes me way too much like the Pharisee and not nearly enough like the tax collector.
Did you notice how the Pharisee isn’t so much praying to God as he is lecturing? But in his efforts to point out how different---how much better—he is than the tax collector he forgets (or more likely he never knew) that it isn’t an either or proposition. He forgets that we are indeed our brother’s and sister’s keeper. If one of us has fallen, we’ve all fallen. If one of us is hungry, we’re all hungry, if one of us is abused, we’re all abused. If one of us is lost than none of us is truly found. He forgets that the way of Jesus is not the way of us against them it’s the way of and for us all.
If we aren’t all in this together, we aren’t in it at all.
At first glance, the Pharisee seems to be the insider in this story, the tax collector the outcast. But alas, it’s the Pharisee who is outside, it’s the Pharisee who’s lost, it’s the Pharisee who needs redemption.
Now that’s not to say that the tax collector is Mr. Good Neighbor. Remember, he is an agent for the occupying force of the day, the Roman Empire. He is no prize.
Yet he, at the end of parable goes away justified—forgiven, healed and renewed---while the Pharisee? Well the Pharisee has some learnin’ to do!
He needs to learn about community.
He needs to learn that this temple he worked so diligently to protect by following every Rabbinic code to a “t” was simply an edifice, a building, an empty structure, without the heartfelt prayers of its people.
Without its community.
Any community of faith more concerned with who is in and who is out misses the entire point.
All that we are and all that we have is through God’s abundant and indescribable mercy and grace.
The tax collector “got it.” The Pharisee did not.
Here’s what the Pharisee missed:
We’re all in this together. If the tax collector is standing outside the temple gates while you’re safely ensconced inside, then your work isn’t finished.
Until every single person who wants to be in the loving embrace of God is safely in that embrace, than none of us are.
We’re all in this together.
If our sister or brother is ill, outcast, lost or lonely than we are.
We’re all in this together.
And when I say all, I mean all:
Not just you and me, here today.
Not just those among us who aren’t with us today.
Not just the great cloud of witnesses who built this place and whose honor and legacy we strive to uphold.
Everyone.
As we hear the laments of our neighbors, as we hear the cries of anguish coming from those we do not know.
As we witness the persecution of the dispossessed the down trodden and the hated
We must do our level best to say…if you’re not ok, then I’m not ok.
It’s all about community.
When we act for all instead of for us, we’ll be exalted,  justified, and saved. Not for who we are or who we aren’t, but for what we do and for whom we do it.
Legacy is what our stewardship campaign has been all about. This week we are asking you to prayerfully consider what you’ll pledge to this place in 2014. How much money you’ll give, how much time you will commit and how you will offer your talents to us.
We’re embarking on a multi year campaign of changing the way we do business. We’re committed to lessening our reliance on the endowment and earning more of our spending money. We’re going to fundraise, we’re going to look at different ways these buildings can be an asset rather than a liability, and we’ll work  toward a goal of being self-supporting through our own efforts as opposed to on the backs of those who have come before.
We’re going to take the legacy of the joyful souls who endowed our parish with their treasure as well as their time and talents and create our own legacy to leave our children.
To do this work, we must balance our budget but, and hear me clearly, our legacy, as long as I have any say in it WILL NOT be about money. It will be about SERVICE. Service to each other, service to our neighborhood, service to our world, service to our past, service to our present, service to our future and above all else, service to God.
These gorgeous buildings weren’t built to insulate us from the needs of the world, these buildings were built to nourish, strengthen and embolden us to confront the needs of this world, and to bring all who desire it, the healing and life giving Love of God, one loving act at a time.
 That’s the legacy of Christ, that’s the legacy of God and here’s praying that it will be the legacy of US.
As you pull out your pledge cards this week please give of yourselves, not just of your wallet.
Give of your hope, not your despair.
Give of your faith, not your fear.
Give of your abundance not your scarcity.
Give of your trust, love and faith in the God who gives us all that we are and all that we have.
Give of your treasure, give of your time, give of your talent.
Give.
Amen.

Cancer Saved My Life. 2nd Annual Breast Cancer Service St Luke Day, October 18, 2013

Last Sunday I preached a sermon that asked the question, Have you been healed or have you been saved? The answer of course is that we, hopefully, have been healed and saved. But the point is this:
Being healed is fabulous. It absolutely rocks. But being saved? That’s everything. You see, to me, being healed is an event in our life, while being saved is a way of life.
Don’t get me wrong, I pray that everyone here who is or loves someone who is, affected by cancer will know healing. But healing comes in many different forms---for some of us it’s remission for others it’s cure, for others, it’s getting through the next round of treatment with our dignity and our humor intact. But for ALL of us, healing means little if we aren’t saved. Now, before you all think I’ve gone all fundamentalist on you, hear me out.
I was diagnosed with breast cancer October 4, 2010. I’d recently started a new job at a new church, I’d moved into a new home, I was looking forward!
Getting cancer wasn’t in my plans. Getting cancer isn’t ever in anyone’s plans. But we get it. A lot of us get it. One in three women and one in two men will get a dx of cancer in their lifetime. One in eight women will get a diagnosis of breast cancer. My mother, my sister, my first cousin and my aunt are all breast cancer survivors. I am a breast cancer survivor. My father died of lung cancer over 20 years ago. As did my aunt. My grandmother died of brain cancer. There’s a lot of cancer in our family.
I despise cancer.
Yet, cancer saved my life.
I have been healed from my cancer, and I am grateful, every single day of my life for the doctors, nurses, researchers and other staff at Roswell Park Cancer Institute for this health. They, through the grace of God, worked toward my cure and my health. I am grateful for my healing.
But I am more grateful for being saved.
Yes, cancersaved my life.
 Cancer made me change everything. I realized that I needed to be surrounded by life giving, as opposed to life sucking people. I learned who my true friends were--- the people who sat with me in the waiting room at the breast clinic—the same people who still sit with me when I go in every six months for exams; the people who took my calls as I obsessed and cried, ranted and raved; who quietly listened as I lamented and grieved the loss of friends I met in those waiting rooms, friends whose disease wouldn’t cease, friends who fought the good fight, friends I’ve lost to this disease; life-giving people who hold my hand when I hear that yet another friend has had a recurrence.
Cancer saved my life because it helped me realize
that I was a whole lot stronger than I ever thought I could be.
That I was braver than I thought.
That I realized while I wasn’t afraid of dying, I was a much bigger fan of living.
I realized that life can and does change on a dime so I better live every day as fully and as joyfully as I can.
I realized that my heart had room, that my heart needed, the love of a spouse, a lifelong partner who would take this journey, wherever it takes me, with me.
Having cancer made me realize—deep down in my soul how incredibly awesome God really is. Oh I knew it up here, but this taught me it in here.
Cancer saved my life.
Cancer gave me the courage to live my life I think God intended me to live my life.
Cancer gave me the faith to trust God. And to live into that trust.
Cancer showed me the truth: that nothing afflicts me alone. That God is always with me, through the love of family and friends, through the support of neighbors and co-workers, through the still quiet voice I heard when I lay on that exam table the day the lump was found, the voice that whispered, “you have cancer. And it will be ok.” Hear me clearly,
 That voice didn’t promise that I would live a long life, dying at age 103 as has been my plan, the voice simply said “it will be ok.”
 That’s the difference between being healed and being saved.
Healing is what happens to us at a particular time and regarding a particular ailment.. Salvation—being saved-- is what happens when we realize that our life isn’t defined by how long it is or whether we eventually lose our battle against disease, or whether we are lucky enough to live a life without disease, without hardship, without sorrow. Our life is defined by what we do with the life we’ve been given.
Cancer saved my life because I learned that cancer will only kill me when I am dead. In the meantime, I have a whole lot of living to do. My friend Mickey, whom I met through this service last year, gave me this little tidbit earlier this week: we all must LIVE until we die.
Our call is to Live.
Our call is to survive
Our call is to fight.
Our call is to live as best we can, as fully as we can, as honestly as we can and as joyfully as we can, until we are no longer alive.
Until we die.
Sadly for many of us death will come much sooner than we thought. But death doesn’t defines us, life does.
How we live, who we love, and what we do with all the gifts given to us, that defines us.
Everyone is healed, in one way or another. And everyone, everyone can be saved. So my hope for all of us here tonight, as we remember those we’ve lost, as we pray mightily for those still in the fight, as we offer thanksgivings for recovery, is that we all will live our lives fully and exuberantly and wonderfully up until the moment we take our final breath. Whenever that may be.
I wish you health, I wish you salvation, I wish you LIFE.
Amen.

[1] Sister Thea Bowman “Let me live until I die” accessed via an email from mnbdick@roadrunner.com on 10.15.13

Proper 23 Yr C Healed And Saved

+Nine were healed. One was saved. To me, that’s the down ‘n dirty take away from today’s Gospel about the healing of the ten people who have leprosy.

Oh sure there are other points Luke makes in this Gospel: the very clear message that this healing happened while Jesus and his friends were in a sort of cultural no man’s land---they weren’t in Galilee where they “belonged,” and they weren’t in Samaria where they most certainly DIDN’T “belong.” They were in a border region. The Greek word translated here actually means “the middle region” They were traveling in the middle area between Samaria and Galilee. They were neither here nor there. They were betwixt and between. They were, in effect, no where that mattered….

And they were approached. Accosted, pursued, sought out by a group of ten people, ten people who found one another after being cast out from their families, their homes, their villages.  Pushed out, denied, forgotten, shunned. They were united through their exclusion.

They were no longer anyone. And they were wandering in an area best described as no where.

Jesus and the ten are where we usually find Jesus —on the border between clean and unclean, safe and unsafe, ok and not ok.

Now, Luke gives us these details for a reason. He’s making sure his readers know that this story of healing didn’t take place in the temple. It took place out there, beyond the border of the safe, beyond the border of the comfortable. That’s important….we tend to forget that while it’s joyful when we gather on Sundays to worship as a community, we must never forget that this worship is simply the fueling station for the rest of the week. When you leave here you are to seek and serve Christ in all whom you encounter. All. Not just those we feel comfortable with…not just the familiar. Not just the safe. Being out there, is what Luke is trying to get across.

Now, let’s look at the actual healing part of this Gospel. It’s an interesting course of events---the group of ten approach Jesus-- They’d heard about this itinerant preacher and healer and what in the world did they have to lose by trying to get his help? NOTHING. So they holler at him as he approaches the nearby village. This isn’t a quiet meet and greet on the road into town. It’s a bit of a dust up.

      When I re-read this story on Friday morning I had an image of Jesus and his friends approaching the village and upon hearing the shouts of the ten, Jesus looks over his shoulder and says, in what I hear as a somewhat dismissive tone: All right, GO, get out of here, show yourselves to the priests. As if to imply, fine, I’ve taken care of you, now get out of my way, I’ve things to do.

 Lots of commentators keep Jesus really squeaky clean during these stories. That just doesn’t jibe with who I think Jesus of Nazareth was—he hung out in notoriously bad places with people of questionable character---he was a rabble rouser, an instigator and a pain in the patoot to a whole lot of folks. He was sweaty and smelly and dirty. He could be rude and outlandish. He could be cranky and annoying. After all, he was HUMAN.  He had good days and bad. So what makes us think that he kindly and gently said, in an angelic voice, “Go show yourselves to the priests.” Perhaps he was brusque. Perhaps he was annoyed and ticked off and said   “Go show yourselves to the priests” [say with annoyance] and then rushed on his way.

I imagine the scene playing out like that rather than a holier than thou preacher gently and lovingly giving them direction.

BUT and here’s the kicker, even when annoyed and rushed and hot and bothered, Jesus can’t help but feel compassion. He can’t help but HEAL them, even if he doesn’t take the time to stop and speak with them. He can’t help, amidst all the human-ness of his being, to also be Divine. That’s the beauty of our Savior. For he at all times and in all places, is BOTH.

And so, he gives his directive and the ten head toward the synagogue to see the priests. (No doubt hoping that this Jesus knew what he was talking about.) And as they turn on their way they are miraculously and thoroughly and utterly healed... It’s a miracle, they have been healed. Noticing this barely slows nine of them down. Who can blame them? They’re anxious to do exactly what they’ve been told---after all if that crazy preacher could heal them with just a word, he could also un-heal them if they didn’t follow his instructions.  They’re not the bad guys in this story—they did as they were told.

But then there’s the one….a Samaritan nonetheless… a foreigner to beat all foreigners-- a hated outsider who stops, and turns back toward Jesus, falling at his feet and praising God for this gift of health.

This isn’t just a simple thank you. It isn’t just rejoicing at being relieved of a particular ailment. No this one man, upon receiving the gift of healing, turned his whole life, his whole mind, his whole heart and his whole soul over to God. His behavior is a shout of “Hosanna in the Highest, you are my God and I am your child.”  His is a song of the saved, not simply a refrain of the healed.

Have you been healed, or have you been saved?

To be healed is a wondrous thing, worthy of our gratitude.

But to be saved is to go out into the world, seeking and serving Christ in all whom we encounter. No exceptions, no yes buts, no I can’t. It’s the challenge presented to us by Jesus in today’s parable---be grateful for your healing, AND be energized, renewed and inspired by your salvation.

Go out into the world, make a difference. Stand up and stand out as one who is Healed and Saved. For that’s what we are called to do. Thanks be to God.

Proper 22 Yr C The Faith Gang

+Our readings today are all about faith.
Faith in the light of horrible circumstances, faith as small as a mustard seed. They're all about faith.
But what is faith?
Think about it. Is it a thing? A commodity?
Is it a state of mind? Some type of mind over matter proposition?
Is it a simple platitude?
Is it a gift?
   For the authors of Lamentations and Psalms faith is something one holds onto and embraces even when all seems lost.
And frankly, they'd lost a lot: Jerusalem had been sacked and they were exiled in Babylon, forced into slavery.
For these people faith wasn't a gift, it wasn't a platitude. It was way of life.
Their Faith wasn't a stagnant, it was a dynamic.

It's' s that-- this idea that faith isn't a thing, it's an action-that Jesus is trying to teach us with today's parable of the mustard seed.
    The disciples ask Jesus to increase their faith while they sit by passively, waiting for something to change.
I’m not sure what they thought Jesus would do…. whack them with his magic “increase your faith” wand?
    But Jesus isn't into magic, he's into reality and
He wants them to take what ever modicum of faith they have and use it. Activate it, exercise it. Because what Jesus knows and we have to learn is that with even a teeny mustard seed of faith, God can do amazing things.
Jesus is saying that the disciples should stop worrying (whining) about whether they have enough faith and just get down to the business

at hand.   to do what needs to be done, trusting in their own ability and God's grace.
    But the truth is, faith can be hard to come by---at times even the tiniest glimmer of faith is darkened by what we perceive to be the hopeless reality of a situation.
    Detroit is a city in a bad way. They have more square footage of abandoned properties than any other US city. If you drive through Detroit, you travel by miles  of vacant buildings, razed properties and over grown abandoned parkland.
There are pockets of hope, blight turned into successful urban farms.... But there remain a whole host of neglected dilapidated parks.
    What do you do, when the city you grew up in, perhaps the only home you’ve ever known, is no longer a place safe for children to live? How do you improve the quality of life for thousands

of people who have no other options except to live amidst the desolation and hopelessness? You can march on city hall and demand services, but if there isn’t any money, how in the world is that going to accomplish anything? You’re still left with overgrown parks inhospitable and unsafe for the children of your community.
Enter The Detroit Mower Gang....
“The Detroit Mower Gang is a group of people---caring citizens---that descend upon the abandoned parks of Detroit and mow them in a furious fit of weed whacking”
They are self identified do-gooders who refuse to let parkland go to waste and who refuse to allow bureaucracy and tightened city budgets to get in the way of children playing outside. Why do they do this? Well, they say, “ Because people need us and no one else is getting the job done.” ( www.detroitmowergang.com)

In other words, they consider Detroit their community and because they care for their community they are willing to take care of their community.
   It’s impressive what people can do with a little bit of faith and a willingness to give God the room God needs to increase that faith into something amazing and powerful.
The Detroit Mower Gang saw a problem: no safe green space for the kids of Detroit. They considered options: wait for the city to get around to it or take care of it themselves.
So they got down to business by exercising their faith.
   They exercised their faith---faith that if given a nice green space the families of inner city Detroit would get out and enjoy it.
They exercised their faith that if they just told people what they were doing they’d get enough

interested people to keep up with all the parks they’ve adopted.
They exercised their faith in the city they love by identifying the problem and then being part of the solution.
They EXERCISED their faith.
   I talk about this all the time---we are recipients of God’s immense and overwhelming love, we are recipients, as I said in the email this week, of God’s faith in us. A faith that never wavers, never wobbles, never falls down. A faith that we will take the mantel of God, the lessons of Jesus and make a difference in this world. That we will indeed Love one another as we have been loved.
  So what can we do with all the faith, all the hope, and all the trust, God showers upon us?
How are we going to get busy with the business of doing God's work in this world?
   
What is it you’d like to change?
What, in your community—in this community---do you care about? What, in this community are you willing to care for?
Do you care about it enough to do something about it?
And do you have even a mustard seed of faith to allow God to work through you in the remarkable way that only God can?
How can you be part of the Good Shepherd/Ascension Faith Gang?
What needs to be done?
What can you do?
What will you do?
Think about it.
Pray about it.
And then start doing something. Start exercising your faith. Here and now.
Amen.

Nothing Bridges the Gap Like Love Proper 21 Yr C Sept 29 2013

+When I was about 8 years old, I developed my own theory of what Hell was like. My grandmother sat somewhat dumbfounded when I told her that Hell—Hades--was seeing everything happening in the world, just like the people in heaven did, but being unable to do anything about it.
Kind of like the rich man in this morning's Gospel.
The past few Sundays we've heard Luke talk a lot about wealth.
A couple of weeks ago it was the Rich fool and his barns, then the shepherd who leaves 99 assets behind to seek out one wandering sheep and the woman who, upon losing one of ten coins, throws a party spending the other nine when the lost one is found.


And then last week, the parable of the shrewd manager who cuts the debts of debtors so they will end up being indebted to him.
This issue of wealth must mean a whole lot to Jesus (or at least Luke), to have so many parables devoted to it.
Now it’s easy to say that Jesus doesn’t care much for the wealthy, preferring instead to spend his time with the poor and destitute---But  these are parables and if there's one thing we know about parables it’s that there’s always more to them than meets the eye...
  Today we have The Rich Man being tormented in Hades while Lazarus lounges in heaven's embrace. The Rich Man’s torment? Neither Lazarus nor his brothers can hear him as he shouts his pleas and warnings.


The Rich Man has no voice.
Is there anything worse than not being heard?
Of having something to say, and to have no one---no one-- hear you?
No one to listen, no one to consider your view?
The other day a woman called the church office, requesting food from the food pantry. After I told her that her zip code didn’t fall within our catchment area, the defeat in her voice was palpable. She had received our number from a friend and didn't know what else to do, where else to turn.  I took a few minutes, looked at the Food Bank website and gave her the numbers for the pantries in her zip code. She was very grateful and said something striking:



“thanks for taking my call. “ “Thanks for listening.”
Think about it---I wasn't
able to give her food from our pantry, I didn't even ensure that she got food. I simply took 3
minutes out of my day to give her some other numbers to call. But she was grateful that I took her call, that I listened to what she had to say. When you’re in a position of needing to access food pantries, you’re rarely heard.
Poor people, to a good portion of our world, simply don't matter.
And that’s the lesson I glean from our stories about wealth this past month. The poor, the needy, the lonely, the lost, the elderly, the injured....they aren't heard, they aren't noticed, they don't matter....unless someone with more

standing, someone with more wealth, someone with MORE reaches out to them, searches for them, listens to them and makes sure they are reached, touched, found and heard.
And this reaching, this listening, this noticing? It's up to US. Not congress, not the upper class, not the famous and filthy rich. Nope. US.
We have a choice: we can be the hoarding farmer longing to build more barns or we can be the searcher of the lost coin. We can be the rich man paying no heed to Lazarus or we can be the shepherd seeking the one out of 99.
We can open our eyes, our ears and our hearts or we can close ourselves off, build a wall and stay firmly on the side of the haves while the Lazaruses of the world stand on the have not side.

Our challenge, our call isn’t to beat ourselves up for having stuff, it’s to bridge the gap between those who have and those who don’t. It’s our Christian duty, it’s the cry of Christ to make sure we hear the cries of those without voice.
As I consider Jesus’ messages to us these past few weeks one thing seems crystal clear:
Money is not a bad thing. Letting money blind us to the needs of others is.
Money isn’t a bad thing, holding onto it for dear life is.
Money isn’t a bad thing. Spending it frivolously while our neighbors go hungry is.
Money isn’t a bad thing, but hoarding it while school children freeze at the bus stop because they don’t have hats, gloves and coats is.


Money isn’t a bad thing. Letting money create a chasm between us and our neighbor, is.
      Perhaps you remember this news story of two weeks ago when Good Samaritans helped rescue a man after a fire broke out in a NYC apartment building.
I think we all saw the footage of neighbors
frantically working together to save the life of the unidentified man. The problem was that they  were in one building and he was in another. They were separated by a chasm of some 10 feet. With flames shooting out around them the quick-thinking men used a ladder to reach the victim, turning it sideways and creating a makeshift platform between the fire escape and the burning apartment.



I have no idea what the financial situation is of any of these men. They may be rich, they may be poor. I have no idea if theyre honest workers or scheming scoundrels. What I do know is that in that moment nothing—NOTHING—mattered to them except reaching the man in the burning building.
This modern day story helps to make Luke’s point: whatever we trust more than God separates us from God and from love. It creates a chasm as wide as that between the Rich Man and Lazarus. A gap seemingly too wide to ever bridge.  But trusting in God and loving of neighbor? When we do that, we close that gap as efficiently and profoundly as the ladder used by two neighbors to save, to love another.



Money isn’t bad, money isn’t good. Money just is. But love of God and love of neighbor? That’s everything. +

Funeral Homily for Ruth Cannon Sims September 22, 2013

Ruth Cannon Sims was a daughter, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, aunt, cousin, friend, neighbor, past worthy matron of the eastern star and a past jr. deputy of Lockport Triangle, and a faithful Bingo volunteer. She was a lifetime member of this parish, having been baptized, married and now today, buried from this place.
Ruth, above all else, was a beloved child of God.
Today, as she takes her spot in the dwelling place of God we celebrate who she was and how her earthly life exemplified just how the Way the Truth and Life of our faith can be lived out in the world.
One of the earliest ways Ruth expressed her faith was through the Order of the Eastern Star and later the triangle girls. These organizations link people of many different faiths to do good works for others. It was an important part of Ruth’s life…and continues to be an important part of Dan and Linda’s. Through The Order of the Eastern Star, Ruth Sims walked the walk of her faith.
Ruth’s faith was a part of her, and it showed up in everything she did.
At the hospital a couple of weeks ago, the nurse was taking Ruth’s history and asked, “do you have all your teeth.” Without missing a beat, Ruth flashed a grin and said, “I better, I worked in a dental office for 40 years!” When Pete called the office that was previously Dr. Sippel’s to inform them of Ruth’s death, Linda cried. How many of us can say, 15 years after we retire that news of our death would be met with tears? But Ruth left her mark. She was a good worker, a good friend and a fun colleague. In other words, Ruth shared the light of Christ with all those she encountered at Dr Sippel’s office.
When Ruth broke her leg two years ago, what was her biggest concern? Making sure Colleen at the Dale Center knew she wouldn’t be there for Bingo. Folks counted on her and she wasn’t going to leave them in a lurch. She loved the Dale Association, and was eager to give back. Ruth embodied the Christian adage that it’s better to give than to receive. She knew the real truth behind that saying---that in giving we receive more joy than imaginable.
Now this is probably making Ruth uncomfortable, all this talking about the good she did in her community. For Ruth, bringing attention to herself was wrong--don’t make a fuss! Actually it was one of the toughest things about Ruth’s last days. She simply wouldn’t tell us she was in pain… She didn’t want to bother us or the medical staff.
It’s one of the reasons she sat in that pew [point]. It was a very strategic position for her. It was far enough back that she wasn’t drawing attention to herself but close enough so Fr Thomas wouldn’t “have to” bring her communion. Again, no fuss no mess when it came to Ruth Sims.
She was also pretty no-nonsense. I don’t think anyone who knew her well, especially her family, would call Ruth warm and fuzzy. But my gosh, did Ruth ever love her family.
Forgive me, as I get a little personal for a moment. Ruth was my mother in law. And while she had a hard time accepting how it came to be that I entered the family, she welcomed me in her own unassuming way. And I will be forever grateful that she really let me in during these last few weeks when we shared some hearty laughs and I got to know a side of her I will cherish forever.
How many of you knew how very funny Ruth was? She had a quick wit and would shoot out one liners that would bring the room down. Pete and I spent a good portion of September at her bedside. One afternoon we were watching The Price is Right….Ruth LOVED game shows…..I asked her, “Ruth, how do you like Drew Carey as the new host of the show?” Without missing a beat, she said, “well he’s no Bob Barker. Never will be.” That was Ruth…she had her opinions and she had her sense of humor. Together they formed a wonderful one two punch.
When Fr. Thomas visited her the other day he asked her what was the first thing she’d say when she saw her beloved Harry again. With a twinkle in her eye,  she said, “ready or not here I am!”
Speaking of Harry, here’s what you all need to know. Ruth Cannon Sims was a devoted wife. Not because that’s what she was supposed be. No she was devoted to Harry because she adored that man. They met right after WW2 and when Harry died eight years ago, they had been married almost 60 years!!.
As many of you know the last two years of Harry’s life were difficult-- he needed dialysis 3 days a week and first had one, and then the other leg amputated. Ruth, all 5 ft of her, took care of her beloved Louie (I don’t have time to go into all the different names people in the Cannon and Sims family go by. Suffice it to say, Ruth, formerly known as Pete, married into the right family when she married Harry also known as Louie. ).
It was that dedication which fueled Pete these past few years. As Ruth’s stay in the hospital stretched out for days and then weeks, Pete’s mantra was to take as good a care of Ruth as Ruth had taken of Harry. And Pete, you did. You honored both your mother and your father with your care and concern. I know your relationship with mother was tough at times, but she loved you and knew that you’d always be there for her when she called. And you were.
Daniel, your mother thought of you always and soothed herself when anxious or bored by baking chocolate chip cookies for you and then freezing them so that when you came to visit there would always be some for you. No doubt there were cookies in the freezer when you arrived last week.
Linda, you coming to spend six weeks with Mom while she recovered from her knee surgery was a huge help. It allowed her to stay in her home instead of a nursing home. She probably never thanked you for that, but know she was grateful.
Samantha and Patrick. You were Grandma’s pride and joy. Samantha, one of the happiest days of Grandma’s life was when Daniel married your mom and you were brought into the family. You and Payton’s presence here these past days brought her untold amounts of comfort.
Patrick, this may come as a surprise to you, but you were a somewhat fussy baby. Indeed you cried almost non stop for two years. Grandma would rock you hours on end and she and Grandpa would fill the wading pull and sit with you—again for hours---while you splashed around. She loved you and was so happy that you’re finding your way.
Ruth Cannon Sims knew that in her father’s house there was a dwelling place erected just for her. She was being called home these past weeks, and finally, early on Thursday morning, the draw was too great, the call too loud and she finally let go…no doubt with  Harry saying, “C’mon Mother stop farting around, it’s time to go.”
Rest in peace, faithful servant, daughter, wife, mother mother–in-law grandmother, great grandmother, faithful Christian and good friend. We will miss you, but we will see you again. Until then, may your rest be in glorious glorious peace. Amen.