In Memoriam: Gary Morrison

A sermon for the funeral of Gary Morrison
April 5, 2025, at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Hot Springs, AR

Readings: Isaiah 25:6-9; Psalm 23; Revelation 7:9-17; John 11:21-27

There is a balm in Gilead to make the wounded whole. There is a balm in Gilead to heal the sin sick soul. 

Today we gather to give thanks to God for our friend Gary. We gather in this church he loved so much to remember him, his quiet and kind faith, his perseverance in the face of adversity. We gather to support his family and friends and those who mourn. But most of all, we gather because St. Paul tells us that nothing in this world or in the world to come will ever be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Because Gary was baptized into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, he belongs to Christ forever. Nothing can take that away. 

Gary loved St. Luke’s. He never made a big splash. He was quiet and unassuming. But he was here, faithfully, in his suit and tie, and he never forgot his name tag. He kind of stood out for that. Those are the things one is supposed to wear in church–he told me that once–a suit, a tie, a name tag. Gary actually moved to Diamondhead from Arkadelphia to be closer to St. Luke’s. Being closer to the church was a major factor for him. How many people can say that? Gary loved St. Luke’s because it was a place of healing for him. This was a place where he was part of the family. This was a place where he was comfortable and loved. St. Luke’s, for him, was already like that dwelling place prepared in the heavens. This church, this community, the worship here–this was a heavenly place for him. 

St. Paul says that now we see through a glass darkly, but then we will see face to face. Gary sees face to face now. For as much of a home this place of worship was for him, he is now in the arms of Jesus, immersed in the reality of God, fully and completely at home, in that dwelling place not built with human hands, but prepared by Christ.

That makes me very happy today. For the truth is, Gary had his fair share of brokenness. Perhaps more than his fair share. Gary lived with the impacts of epilepsy. He would sometimes forget things, and emotional management was sometimes difficult for him. He was lonely, too. Depression was close at hand. A man who lived alone, Gary was particularly impacted by the pandemic. But most of all, Gary lived with some regrets he could not shake. He longed for a reconciliation that was not possible in this life. Gary knew brokenness. Gary knew pain. Gary knew suffering. 

The Bible does not ignore our suffering. It dives into the middle of it. We do not have a God that is so far away, so high up, that he does not see our brokenness and pain. Instead, we have a God who came down to us in the person of Jesus Christ our Lord, who shared completely in our suffering and pain in order to redeem it, in order to heal it, in order to make us whole. That’s the promise of the Gospel: healing at the last. 

Our readings point to this: Isaiah says that God has prepared a banquet for us in glory, and that our tears will be wiped away. We will be healed. The psalmist says that the Shepherd walks with us even into the valley of the shadow of death with enemies all around, but that, even there, God’s goodness and mercy pursue us forever. We will be healed. Revelation’s vision of the holy city coming down from God out of heaven includes the same promise we hear in Isaiah; our tears are wiped away and pain is no more. We will be healed. Our gospel is Jesus at the tomb of a friend, with weeping all around. In that moment of despair, he says that he is the resurrection and the life–he is the promise. We will be healed. My friends, we will be healed. For the Crucified One has borne our suffering and pain, and he is now risen and risen indeed. Because he rises, wounds in his hands and side, we will be raised, too. And we will be raised healed and whole at last. 

I started with the words of a hymn: there is a balm in Gilead. It’s a quote from Jeremiah, where the mournful prophet asks if healing is possible in the midst of so much suffering and pain. Our answer, through Christ our Lord, is a firm and resounding yes. There is a balm in Gilead. There is the promise of a physician. There is restoration and new life and wholeness. Jesus Christ has done it through his life, death, and resurrection. And the promise is ours. The promise is Gary’s, even today.