Sermon

St. Philip's Episcopal Church, Durham, NC

December 11, 2007 - Memorial Service for Jim Pleasants

The Rev. Vicki L. Smith

Last week in the hospital, Jim told people that if they wanted to come to his funeral they’d better come early, because the church would be full.  It looks like he was right.

For a small man, Jim Pleasants’ death has left a large hole – a hole in our hearts, in our lives, and in this community.  That was made especially clear to me on Sunday morning when someone came into church, sat down, realized they were in “Jim’s pew” and moved, because they didn’t feel right taking Jim’s place. Though eventually someone else will have to sit in that pew, nobody will ever take Jim’s place. 

Jim was the kindest, most gracious gentleman I’ve ever known.  He was funny and humble, conscientious, compassionate and committed – committed to his family, his church, his business, and the city of Durham.  Every one of us here has benefited from his willingness to serve and work and love.  I have heard innumerable stories of how Jim’s faith and witness strengthened another’s faith, how his hard work helped make St. Philip’s the wonderful church it is today, how he reached out in love and care to everyone around him, whether at work, in the neighborhood or at a meeting.  And how funny he was – his quiet sense of humor could put you in stitches in seconds. 

On Sunday, I heard the story of Jim at the gerbil race – I guess it was his granddaughter’s gerbils that were competing.  You put the gerbils in those little balls and they race to the finish line.  The event began with Jim introducing a gerbil as, “This is my grandson; he’s a rat.”  When the gerbil lost the first heat Jim declared it a disgrace to the family name and when the gerbil finally won, because the competing guinea pig wouldn’t move, Jim wondered if the victor could be put out to stud.   You had to love him.

That’s one of countless wonderful Jim Pleasants stories we could tell today.  But since Jim always timed the sermon, I am mindful that I need to move on.

So, let’s share our stories at the reception, as way of remembering Jim, honoring him and thanking God for him – because that’s what we’ve gathered today to do.  Sadly, we have also gathered to say goodbye to Jim and to give him back to God.  We give him back to the God whose love sustained him even to the end.  Jim said, only a few days ago, that despite the tragic death of his first wife, he always felt loved and cared for by God.  He knew in his heart and soul the truth of Paul’s words in Romans – that nothing separates us from the love of Christ, not suffering, not sadness, not grief, not even death.  Nothing will ever separate us from the love of Christ.  Even in his last illness, when breathing was such struggle, Jim held tight to his faith and his family and both sustained him to the end.

We ask for even a small portion of that faith for ourselves today.  May our sorrow be eased not only by the comfort of wonderful memories but also by God’s promise of eternal life.  Though it breaks our hearts, we know that Jim is dead.  We will not see his face again, nor hear his voice nor feel his touch.  He is gone from this life, but he is very much alive in God.  He has claimed his place in that heavenly mansion John’s gospel speaks of, and he now dwells with God in joy and peace and light that we can only imagine.  If that mansion includes pearly gates, I know that Jesus met Jim there, and welcomed him with the words that have welcomed generations of faithful saints before him: Well done, good and faithful servant, enter into the joy of your master. 

May he rest in peace and rise in glory.  

© 2006, Saint Philip's Episcopal Church
Mailing Address: P.O. Box 218, Durham, NC 27702
Telephone 919-682-5708, Fax 919-683-1857

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