Luthy's Easter

St. Paul’s Church in Bergen, Jersey City NJ

May 2, 2015

The Funeral of Luthmila Busby

Wisdom 3:1-5, 9

Psalm 23

Revelation 7:9-17

John 14:1-6a

Luthy’s Easter

            It feels very real right now, doesn’t it?

            For several weeks now most of us have known about Luthy’s sudden and shocking and so sad death but now as we gather in this sacred place and see the casket and sing our songs and say our prayers it feels very real.

            Our dear sister Luthy – our niece, cousin, friend – has died.

            In the Gospel passage I just read, the death of Jesus is starting to feel all too real for his disciples.

            Jesus isn’t dead yet but he’s been preparing his disciples for what’s to come – that he is leaving them, at least for a time.

            Jesus tries to comfort and reassure the disciples telling them that he is going to prepare a place for them – for us – in heaven.

            Jesus tries to comfort and reassure the disciples telling them that he will return and gather the disciples – gather all of us – together once again.

            Jesus tries to comfort and reassure the disciples telling them – telling us – “and you know the way to the place where I am going.”

            The Apostle Thomas – speaking for the others, speaking for us – says to Jesus, “Lord we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

            And Jesus says to him and to us, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life.”

            Throughout her all too brief life, in her own quiet and loving way, Luthy put her trust in Jesus as the way, the truth and the life.

            When I announced her death here at St. Paul’s, I wasn’t planning to say this but I said that she was just about the sweetest person I had ever met.

            I thought about the times she was here at St. Paul’s – even when she wasn’t feeling particularly well physically or emotionally – she always managed to be cheerful and even a little goofy - always spoke with joy about the antics of her cats – she always took an interest in how I was doing, how things were here at the church.

            I thought about how she often spoke about her beloved mother, Erica – how close the two of them were – the loving bond that they shared.

             We all know how devastating Erica’s death had been – a blow from which Luthy never really recovered.

            I wasn’t here at St. Paul’s when Erica died but I got a glimpse of Luthy’s deep love and compassion when her uncle Amreeth died back in November.

            She was deeply saddened but she also managed to make us smile with her kind of silly sense of humor – making a difficult time just a little more bearable.

            While she was alive, I didn’t know much about Luthy’s life outside of church – didn’t know much about her friends, beyond the occasional photo on facebook.

            But, since her death, I’ve been so moved by the outpouring of love for this special person.

            There have been many facebook posts expressing shock and grief and love.

            There have been calls to church asking about her funeral, asking what could be done to help.

            Just yesterday I received a message from one of Luthy’s friends.

            Here’s what she had to say about Luthy:

            “…she was such a beautiful, caring, and loving young lady. Her smile was as beautiful as her laughter. She was always praying for others and for us.”

            Throughout her all too brief life, in her own quiet and loving way, Luthy put her trust in Jesus as the way, the truth and the life.

            As many of you know, the past few months Luthy hadn’t really been feeling too well.

            Moving from one apartment to another had been an ordeal for her, straining her physically and, I’m sure, stirring up the lasting grief at her mother’s death.

            Every once in a while I’d reach out to her, trying to get her to come to church.

            The last time was right before Palm Sunday.

            She told me that she wouldn’t be here then but she would definitely be in church on Easter Sunday to celebrate the Lord’s Resurrection with us.

            Of course, things didn’t work out the way we hoped.

            But, instead of celebrating Easter here with all of us, Luthy was at an even better party, celebrating Easter in the full presence of God.

            Instead of celebrating Easter here with all of us, Luthy celebrated Easter with her mom and her uncle and with those she loved and have gone to be with God forever.

            Instead of celebrating Easter with all of us, Luthy celebrated Easter in the place where grief is turned into joy, where what’s broken is made whole again.

            Now, for Luthy, the Easter celebration isn’t just one day, or even a season. For Luthy, Easter is everyday. Forever and ever.

            And for us, although Luthy’s death is feeling all too real right now and we miss her so much, we’re called to remember and follow the example of our sister who throughout her all too brief life, in her own quiet and loving way, put her trust in Jesus as the way, the truth and the life.

            So today, yes, we grieve and we cry but, most of all, we celebrate – we celebrate sweet Luthy’s life with us - and her new life in the place prepared lovingly for her by Jesus.

            Amen.