Funeral of Lillian Twarog – Proverbs 31:25-31, 2 Corinthians 4:14-18, Luke 24:1-7
I love the choice of our first reading today, the one from Proverbs. Just in general, it’s a delightful reading, because of its poetic description of a good and capable wife. (You can extend it words to mother or grandmother if you like.) It talks of her wisdom and her kindness, the way everyone praises her, and the way she fears the Lord. But most of all, it’s the first verse in our selection today, verse 25, that I love as a choice for Lill’s funeral, the part that says “She laughs at the time to come,” because that’s the thing I will always remember about her. Her laughter.
Lill had several different kinds of laugh, actually, that she would use to ornament her stories. It didn’t really matter what story she was telling: Something about her younger days, perhaps, or some recounting of the exploits of her beloved grandchildren. Or a tale of navigating her way through the complicated mess of doctor’s offices she regularly faced—there were many of those. Or even just the way she’d dealt with a telephone solicitation the other day—which, there seemed to be many of those too, actually. Every single one would include selections from her wide array of laughter.
There was the real laugh, when she genuinely thought something was funny, a normal belly laugh that would come out, usually quiet and dignified, but really jovial in its way. And then there was the “I’ve got you now” laugh, when she’d use a particularly masterful twist of logic to defeat someone who’d gotten it all wrong, ha-HA. She also used a sort of, “What exactly are you thinking” laugh, something I can’t quite get right, but it involves a sort of grimace. My favorite laugh of hers, though, was the one she’d pull out when we were both in on the joke, when someone else was clearly doing something foolish, and we both knew that things weren’t going to turn out well for them in the end of the story. She’d close her eyes, and open her mouth, and clasp her hands, and throw her head back in laughter.
And what I love about this, and what I love about Lill, is that her laughter shows a real, deep-down inside delight about life. Which, don’t get me wrong: I always sensed she was someone who knew the rules and expected them to be followed, and if you didn’t—well, I’d guess that she was smart enough to juuuuuust make sure you reaped the rewards of your foolishness. But, I don’t know; I’d think that foolishness, even if she disapproved, would still secretly delight her. Other people would get annoyed at the poorly chosen expectations of others, other people get frustrated and stressed out and angry, and Lill would just laugh.
For much of our world, the idea of the resurrection of the dead is the greatest foolishness there could be. But if we listen to the story closely, we’ll see that it’s ultimately foolish not to trust in the resurrection. It was Friday, and Joseph of Arimathea had taken the body of Jesus and laid it in an unused tomb, and the women who had followed him from Galilee prepared spices and ointments to anoint his body, but the sun set, so they didn’t have time to go and do so before the Sabbath began. They rested on the Sabbath, according to the commandment. And then, on Sunday morning, they continue their morose work. Early as the sun rose, they carried their spices and ointments out to the tomb, which— okay, anyone paying attention to first twenty-three chapters of Luke should know that he’s not going to be there. Because Jesus has said so. Several times. And you can just hear it, in Lill’s voice, “And they went to the tomb anyway, because they didn’t believe him. JESUS. {Head laugh} They didn’t believe JESUS. {Head laugh} Who was right about everything else. They hung on every word when Jesus was teaching them, but now. {grimace laugh}.” And then the women arrive, and the tomb is strangely open. Which makes you wonder how they thought they were going to roll the stone away from the tomb in the first place. But it’s open, and they go in, and of course there’s no body. And then these two men—angels, probably—show up and say, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you, while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, and be crucified, and on the third day rise again?” Ha-HA!
Lillian Twarog taught me that EVERYTHING about life is joyful. That there is literally NOTHING you cannot laugh about. That you should take delight in EVERYTHING. Which, I need to make clear, does not mean there aren’t painful, unhappy times, real sadness in our lives. I felt Lill’s exhaustion in the way that her body became infected and just would not heal, for a decade would not heal. I despaired with Lill over the way that she was limited by her attachment to oxygen, by the way that kept her from going to be with the rest of her family, though she celebrated, too, the fact that they were all so willing to come to her instead, so often. I cried real tears with Lill over the way that disease and old age affected her life and love in these most recent years, her worries and hopes for the one she loved best. There was and is and should be time for sorrow enough. But it always makes way for the laughter that comes afterwards. That says, no matter what happens, no matter how bad it gets, there is still something worth being joyful about, there is still something to delight in.
That is the promise that God has for us. That even in death, there is still hope, there is still joy, there is still delight. Even the most faithful, the most good and capable, the most wise and kind and praiseworthy of women can still walk morosely to the tomb, and skip away, laughing. Jesus is not there, Jesus is not dead, he is risen, he has broken death’s power, he has laughed in its face, and hey, he told everyone he was going to do it too! And what’s more, “we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus, and will bring us (with you) into his presence. Yes, everything [God does] is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.”
Today we are sad, and so we should be. The death of this wonderful woman breaks the hearts of everyone who knows her. But there will be a time, long in the future, when we will be able to laugh at this, too. Because it is absurd to think so, but we know that death is not the end of the story. That Jesus Christ will lift Lill up out of the tomb, and us along with her. There will be so much more to delight in, things our God has in store for us that we can’t even imagine, and we’ll laugh at the joy of it! So why are you looking for the living among the dead? She is not here. She is risen. Remember how Jesus told you. Lill is risen indeed. Christ is risen indeed. Alleluia. Amen.