Funeral for Maggie Burke – Revelation 21:1-7, Mark 10:13-16
Maggie was a wonderful teacher. I never really got to see her in action, though I do remember her passing through the hallway outside my office with toddlers in tow countless times. She always struck me as a sweet, loving, grandmotherly type, an image I know that she quite liked to have for herself. She was from an older generation than most of our teachers here, and while the majority of them are known to the children simply by their first name, she was always “Miss Maggie.” It gave her an elegance that she carried about her, even in the midst of one of her deep-seated coughing fits. And you could see deep down in her eyes and on the surface of her smile the great love she had for the children whom she taught. Maggie may not have lived to a ripe, old age, but God did teach us about His love in the last stages of life through Maggie.
As an adult, Maggie was a trusted friend and confidant. She cared deeply for other people, especially those family members and close friends who relied on her. She was strong, and thoughtful, and trustworthy, able to be relied upon for excellent advice and keeping confidences to the end. From what I hear, she loved her husband deeply, and worked hard to be a good, caring partner for him throughout their married life. Kristine tells me of the friendship they shared, and while it’s not my place to share details of that friendship, I’m moved by the way they came to feel like family—that’s the way that Maggie could care for others. God did teach us about His love in the middle stages of life through Maggie.
She was a fiercely independent woman. Maggie kept her private life private, dealing with things in her own way, according to her own timeframe and plan. It’s why few of us knew that she was sick in the last part of her life; she didn’t tell people and she liked it that way. And while I’m usually an advocate for sharing those parts of our lives with one another, I have to admire her strength of will and independent spirit. It’s a wonderful kind of spirit she helped to cultivate in others, too. When I asked her children, Brianna and Ryan, how their mother dealt with both kids moving to California, they told me that she had always wanted them to be themselves, to do their own thing. It’s a virtue Maggie truly valued in people. That independence first comes to us in our teenage years, so I’d say that God taught us about His love in the early stages of our life through Maggie.
But the thing I love most about Maggie is the kind of teacher she was. Miss Maggie may have been like a grandmother to the children under her care, but she was also the first one to shuck off that old-lady vibe and get down on her knees and get her hands dirty playing with the children. She would chase after them in the gym and on the playground, keeping up with the running of tiny feet, becoming like a child along with them. Most wonderfully, I’m told she’d always do her own project with the children. I can picture her in my mind’s eye, not just helping the kids to trace their own hands onto paper, but tracing her own, decorating it along with the other children, declaring, “Look at my creation, isn’t it pretty? Now let’s see what you can do.” I’m good with small children, but thinking back through all the teaching I’ve done, I can’t say I ever remember doing the same myself. Maggie taught children best by becoming like one herself. And God taught us about His love in the most childlike stages of our life through Maggie.
Jesus tells us in our Gospel reading for today that we have to receive the kingdom of God like little children, to be like little children ourselves. I like that image. We have to be like Maggie. We have to cast off our grown-up notions, and get down on the floor, and get our hands dirty, in order to take part in God’s vision for the world. It means we have to become vulnerable, be willing to show the rest of the class our work, let it be seen for how pretty it is. And it means we have to ooh and ah in wonder at the work of our friends, and at the wonderful things the universe has in store for us.
And no wonder we have to be like children. Look at the vision of eternal life that God shows to us in the book of Revelation. Listen to what the writer of Revelation has to say: “I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.” What a fanciful image! It’s hard to imagine even what it looks like, a city, dressed like a bride, descending from heaven? And in the words that follow those we read today, it goes on to describe this city. A city fifteen hundred miles across, as measured by an angel with a golden yardstick. Twelve different foundations made of precious jewels, and twelve gates made of pearls. No sun or moon is needed, because God’s glory illuminates the whole thing. It’s crazy! I’ve seen toddlers draw pictures with crayons that are more sensible.
But that’s part of the point. This beautiful metaphorical picture that God paints is one so extravagant that you practically have to have a child’s imagination to make any sense of it at all. It’s like something out of a Dr. Seuss book. And that’s just the way God wants it. The wonders of the life that God has in store for us are so amazing, the adult world of seriousness and all it’s issues doesn’t have room for it. So we have to become like children in order to take part in it. I think Maggie has a head start on all of us for that.
And that’s the truth: Maggie is part of that vision. The God who proclaims, “Let the little children come to me,” will not turn us away, not even when death stands in our way. Maggie is still alive. We may be saddened because we don’t get to share her life anymore; not for a while, anyway. But I know with confidence that she lives on, that Christ’s death and resurrection were strong enough to bring new life to her. Just as they are to all of us.
There’s this wonderful little detail in the passage from Revelation we read today. There’s a voice that says, “See, the home of God is among mortals. He will dwell with them…God himself will be with them.” We often think of God far off and distant, up in his heaven where we can’t ever reach. But scripture tells us that God is here with us. That God casts off his old-man vibe and gets down on his knees and gets his hands dirty playing with us, his children. That God is like Maggie (or Maggie is like God, take your pick). That God is with us throughout our whole lives, as children, as teenagers, as adults and elders too, loving us and playing with us and chasing after us, and whispering stories of how he’ll remake the world into something wonderful and new. God was steadfast and faithful to Maggie throughout her entire life. And God is with you, too, in your mourning, in your working, in every moment of your life. And what is God doing?
“Look at my creation,” God says, pointing at you. “Look at it, isn’t it pretty? Now let’s see what you can do.”
Amen.