SERMON PREACHED BY THE REVEREND DR. HAROLD T. LEWIS, RECTOR
CALVARY EPISCOPAL CHURCH, PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA
AT THE REQUIEM MASS FOR THE REPOSE OF THE SOUL OF
ELIZABETH FELIX PARRACK
THURSDAY 8 JUNE 2006

 

 

"Let not your hearts be troubled." (John 14:1)

 

 

We began the service this afternoon with the hymn "Joyful, joyful, we adore thee" for good reason. Mrs. Parrack often reminded me that her maiden name was Felix, and that "felix" means "happy." She believed she was aptly named, because, she said, she had led a happy life. She felt blessed by her parents, and by her beloved Edward, to whom she was married for 57 blissful years. It might have been a longer marriage, by the way, except for what Elizabeth understood to be an unduly long courtship. In her inimitable fashion, she asked her suitor point blank when he would propose. Edward explained that he would do so as soon as his income reached the princely sum of two hundred dollars a month!

 

Elizabeth, too, was loved by her family. She felt cared for and doted on by her son, Ted, and grandsons Taylor and Kevin, and there was a twinkle in her eye and a broad smile on her face when she talked about her great granddaughter Aileene Elizabeth, and described the joy she experienced when she held her in her arms. So as we gather today to commit to God's eternal care our sister in Christ Elizabeth Felix Parrack, it is not so much to mourn her loss as it is to celebrate her life. Elizabeth would want us, in the words of the hymn, to "melt the clouds of sin and sadness, drive the dark of doubt away."

 

Elizabeth's other source of strength was her faith. She was nurtured by the sacrament of Holy Communion, whether she came to church or the church came to her. That faith had seen her through much. She often related the story of how her parents were told that she would succumb to tuberculosis when she was a teenager. Later her doctors feared she may not survive childbirth. More recently she successfully battled against cancer not once but twice. But with each challenge, Elizabeth put herself in God's hands; she could, as the hymn reminds us, "take it to the Lord in prayer." It is no wonder, then, that her last request of me, scant hours before her death, was to pray for her. "Your prayers give me so much comfort," she said. I began to pray. But asking me to pray wasn't actually her last request. A few seconds into the prayer, Elizabeth asked if I wouldn't speak a little louder!

 

Today's Gospel contains these words: "Let not your hearts be troubled" (or as another translation puts it, "Set your troubled hearts at rest.") "Trust in God always; trust also in me." Sometimes we hear this verse and we forget its context. We forget that Jesus utters these words to his disciples in the Upper Room after the Last Supper and the washing of feet. Jesus has just announced to his friends that one of them would betray him. Then he astonishes them by saying that he would be leaving them, that they wouldn't know where he was going, and wouldn't be able to follow him. Peter protests. He tells Jesus he will lay down his life for him, but Jesus rebukes him and predicts that Peter would deny him three times. It is in the midst of all this uncertainty, all this angst, all this confusion and turmoil, amidst these feelings of abandonment and distrust, when the disciples think their lives are coming to an end, that Jesus says "Let not your hearts be troubled."

 

Elizabeth Parrack, throughout her life, has taken Jesus at his word. Not only was she comforted by Jesus, words of assurance, she believed, too, that Jesus had prepared a place for her. So now she can sing "I know not, oh, I know not, what joys await me there; what radiancy of glory, that bliss beyond compare."

 

It is said that people often die in the same way that they lived. That was certainly true of Elizabeth Parrack. Even on her death bed, she exhibited those gracious, ladylike qualities which had long characterized her demeanor. Although weak and in pain, she received her callers with the same dignity and grace that she showed in her living room at Park Mansions, where so often she would insist that I have just a little sherry after our communion service. Even in the ICU, she could remark, "How nice of you to come to see me." Then began to recount how happy she was that so many new people had come to Calvary Church.

 

After this lively conversation, Elizabeth fell into a deep sleep. The monitor at her bedside indicated that her heart rate had plummeted. She was cold to the touch. Prayers were offered; psalms were recited, as we prepared for Elizabeth to breathe her last. But not yet, thank you very much. Elizabeth was not finished with her farewells. The party wasn't quite over. She awakened from her sleep, her heart rate was up, and she was noticeably warmer. There was more color in her cheeks. She apologized for having been asleep and launched into another round of conversations. And more to the point, she lived long enough to receive Taylor, Jennifer, and her great granddaughter and namesake. Then Elizabeth could sing the Nunc Dimittis and enter into the nearer presence of Almighty God. These last hours of her life were like a coda at the end of a symphony. My dictionary defines "coda" as "a few measures or a section added to the end of a piece of music to make a more effective ending."

 

And a more effective ending it was. In so doing, the aptly named Elizabeth Felix Parrack experienced a happy death at the end of a happy life. In dying, she taught us how to live. We can ask for no greater legacy than this.

 

+Rest eternal grant unto Elizabeth, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon her. May her soul and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. AMEN.