Ron Richard
(January 28, 1950-June 18, 2009)
June 24, 2009
Isaiah 11.2-9
I will be blunt with you: I don’t want to be here today. I do not want to be here on this afternoon commemorating the life of Ron Richard. Rather, what I want to do today is to go see Ron. I want to bring him Holy Communion. I want to joke with him. I want just to talk with him again. Today, Ron should be recovering from the surgery he was scheduled to have on Monday to remove the pins from his leg. But it didn’t work out that way.
One week ago today—at this very hour—I saw Ron for the last time. Last Wednesday I brought him Holy Communion. I joked with him. We discussed the absurdity of walking one’s dog while riding a bike. Ron was looking forward to having that second surgery to remove the pins because, as he told me that day, he could finally salvage some of his summer. I told him, as I left him that Wednesday afternoon, that I would see him again on Sunday. His mother, Darlene, had just come in with food for him (he hated the food at the nursing home). And as I left him, he was smiling and full of life.
The next day, when his friend Steve called me to tell me Ron had died, I have to admit I was a bit shocked. In fact I was so shocked, I asked actually asked: “Ron? Ron who?”
But, as Ron would be the first to tell you, this is just the way life works out sometimes. We don’t get to plan our own lives. Sometimes things just happen that devastate us and shock us—things that happen and when they do we realize we will never be the same again. Ron understood that in his life. Ron was that kind of guy. For those of us who knew him, we realize he was a bit of visionary. He had a perception about him that was a little different than the rest of us. His ideal of the world was a little more colored, a little more vibrant, a little more clearer than maybe we ourselves saw it.
In our reading from Isaiah today, we are confronted with a vision very much like Ron’s. For those of us who are rational, this vision seems naïve and almost absurd. It makes no sense for those of who know better. But for the prophet, for the visionary, this vision has the potential for reality. This is the place in which God rules fully and completely, where what seems absurd and naïve to us is, in fact, the place God promises to all of us who hope in God. Ron was able to see this vision, was able to cling to it and hold it close. Ron was able to see things some of us couldn’t see. He saw a sacredness to all living things He saw life as something that can’t be squandered or disrespected or cheapened. That vision from Isaiah was what sustained Ron. It was what gave him home and courage him in those difficult moments in his life. That vision of Isaiah was what held him up and guided him. It was very important to him, so important to him in fact that in the obituary he prepared himself, he wrote that he and his animal companions had sought to bring “Isaiah’s vision to reality.”
Because this vision was so important to Ron, we should take a closer look at it on this day we are remembering and celebrating Ron Richard. So, let’s examine this vision according to Isaiah. In it, we find these wonderful words “wisdom” and “knowledge” and “skill” being used again and again. This place Ron hoped in and longed for was a place in which no one will be judged by appearance or hearsay. The poor will be judged fairly and the rights of the helpless will be defended. In that place, justice and integrity will be the rule. For those of us still caught up in our own vision of reality, it sounds almost too good to be true. But then we come to the paradoxes. We find wolves and sheep living together in peace. We find leopards lying down with what before was regular prey—young goats. Calves and lions feed together. Cows and bears will eat together—obviously in this place even bears become vegetarians—and their calves and cubs lie down in peace And yes, even lions in that place will be vegetarians, because they will eat straw as cattle do. And even babies can be near poisonous snakes without danger or fear. In that place, there will be nothing harmful or evil. The land will be so full of the knowledge of God that it will seem to be as full of this knowledge as the seas are full of water.
For some of us more cynically-minded people, this vision just seems so…make-believe. Leopards lying down with their prey? Children playing with poisonous snakes? Bears and lions eating grass like cows? But this vision of Isaiah was not some kind of pipe dream for Ron. It was not some utopia or dreamy fantasy. Ron believed that God cares for every living creature and that our job as stewards of this earth meant striving to make sure anything that held within it life should be freed of as much undue suffering as possible. For him, this vision is very much a possibility . It is very within our grasp. We can, in all reality, make this existence a better place to live for all living things. This vision is truly the Kingdom of God in our midst.
For Ron—as with the prophets like Isaiah, as with Jesus himself—the kingdom of God was not necessarily something that only awaited us in the next life. That Kingdom of God that awaits us could also break through into this world. And we are the ones who are able to do that. The Kingdom of God can break through when we do simple things, like loving—like loving God and loving our neighbors as our selves. And our neighbors here on earth are not just our human neighbors. Our neighbors are all living creatures. And to love them, to respect them, to care for them is a way to bring that Kingdom of God into our midst. That is what Ron believed and that is we too should be striving for as well in our lives. If we do that, even in small ways, we will be doing great good in this world. If we do that, even in small ways, we will be living out the ideal Ron hoped in.
For Ron, on this Wednesday afternoon, that Kingdom of God has been fully realized. For Ron, and for those of us who believe that life doesn’t end at death but continues on, this ideal of the Kingdom of God has been realized. The paradoxes of that Kingdom are in place. Ron is there—his vision made real for him. In that place, Ron is whole and healthy and complete and beautiful. In that place, Ron is fully and completely happy. In that place, Ron also awaits us. In that place, Ron is encouraging us to realize that place here in our own lives. He is commending us to be the conduits through which that Kingdom in which he now lives is made a reality here on this earth.
Our best way to honor Ron, to remember Ron, to celebrate what Ron has left us is to be these conduits. And the best way we can be conduits is by loving God and loving all of our neighbors—human and non-human—as ourselves. When we do, Ron will be close to us. Ron will be urging us on, encouraging us and commending us.
Yes, I will miss Ron greatly. We will all miss Ron greatly. But I know that Ron’s influence in my life will continue if I strive, even in small ways, to do what I learned from him. If I continue to work toward making Isaiah’s vision a reality in this world, then he will continue to be a part of my life.
I am going to close today with a prayer Ron shared with the vestry here at St. Stephen’s at our January meeting. In many ways, this prayer sums up Ron’s vision and his hopes for a better world.
Let us pray the prayer of St. Basil.
The Prayer of St. Basil
O God, enlarge within us the sense of fellowship with all living things, our little brothers and sisters, to whom Thee hast given this earth as their home in common with us.
We remember with shame that in the past we have exercised the high dominion of man with ruthless cruelty, so that the voice of the earth which should have gone up to Thee in song has been a groan of travail.
May we realize that they live, not for us alone, but for themselves and for Thee, and that they love the sweetness of life even as we do, and serve Thee in their place better than we in ours.
Amen.
(January 28, 1950-June 18, 2009)
June 24, 2009
Isaiah 11.2-9
I will be blunt with you: I don’t want to be here today. I do not want to be here on this afternoon commemorating the life of Ron Richard. Rather, what I want to do today is to go see Ron. I want to bring him Holy Communion. I want to joke with him. I want just to talk with him again. Today, Ron should be recovering from the surgery he was scheduled to have on Monday to remove the pins from his leg. But it didn’t work out that way.
One week ago today—at this very hour—I saw Ron for the last time. Last Wednesday I brought him Holy Communion. I joked with him. We discussed the absurdity of walking one’s dog while riding a bike. Ron was looking forward to having that second surgery to remove the pins because, as he told me that day, he could finally salvage some of his summer. I told him, as I left him that Wednesday afternoon, that I would see him again on Sunday. His mother, Darlene, had just come in with food for him (he hated the food at the nursing home). And as I left him, he was smiling and full of life.
The next day, when his friend Steve called me to tell me Ron had died, I have to admit I was a bit shocked. In fact I was so shocked, I asked actually asked: “Ron? Ron who?”
But, as Ron would be the first to tell you, this is just the way life works out sometimes. We don’t get to plan our own lives. Sometimes things just happen that devastate us and shock us—things that happen and when they do we realize we will never be the same again. Ron understood that in his life. Ron was that kind of guy. For those of us who knew him, we realize he was a bit of visionary. He had a perception about him that was a little different than the rest of us. His ideal of the world was a little more colored, a little more vibrant, a little more clearer than maybe we ourselves saw it.
In our reading from Isaiah today, we are confronted with a vision very much like Ron’s. For those of us who are rational, this vision seems naïve and almost absurd. It makes no sense for those of who know better. But for the prophet, for the visionary, this vision has the potential for reality. This is the place in which God rules fully and completely, where what seems absurd and naïve to us is, in fact, the place God promises to all of us who hope in God. Ron was able to see this vision, was able to cling to it and hold it close. Ron was able to see things some of us couldn’t see. He saw a sacredness to all living things He saw life as something that can’t be squandered or disrespected or cheapened. That vision from Isaiah was what sustained Ron. It was what gave him home and courage him in those difficult moments in his life. That vision of Isaiah was what held him up and guided him. It was very important to him, so important to him in fact that in the obituary he prepared himself, he wrote that he and his animal companions had sought to bring “Isaiah’s vision to reality.”
Because this vision was so important to Ron, we should take a closer look at it on this day we are remembering and celebrating Ron Richard. So, let’s examine this vision according to Isaiah. In it, we find these wonderful words “wisdom” and “knowledge” and “skill” being used again and again. This place Ron hoped in and longed for was a place in which no one will be judged by appearance or hearsay. The poor will be judged fairly and the rights of the helpless will be defended. In that place, justice and integrity will be the rule. For those of us still caught up in our own vision of reality, it sounds almost too good to be true. But then we come to the paradoxes. We find wolves and sheep living together in peace. We find leopards lying down with what before was regular prey—young goats. Calves and lions feed together. Cows and bears will eat together—obviously in this place even bears become vegetarians—and their calves and cubs lie down in peace And yes, even lions in that place will be vegetarians, because they will eat straw as cattle do. And even babies can be near poisonous snakes without danger or fear. In that place, there will be nothing harmful or evil. The land will be so full of the knowledge of God that it will seem to be as full of this knowledge as the seas are full of water.
For some of us more cynically-minded people, this vision just seems so…make-believe. Leopards lying down with their prey? Children playing with poisonous snakes? Bears and lions eating grass like cows? But this vision of Isaiah was not some kind of pipe dream for Ron. It was not some utopia or dreamy fantasy. Ron believed that God cares for every living creature and that our job as stewards of this earth meant striving to make sure anything that held within it life should be freed of as much undue suffering as possible. For him, this vision is very much a possibility . It is very within our grasp. We can, in all reality, make this existence a better place to live for all living things. This vision is truly the Kingdom of God in our midst.
For Ron—as with the prophets like Isaiah, as with Jesus himself—the kingdom of God was not necessarily something that only awaited us in the next life. That Kingdom of God that awaits us could also break through into this world. And we are the ones who are able to do that. The Kingdom of God can break through when we do simple things, like loving—like loving God and loving our neighbors as our selves. And our neighbors here on earth are not just our human neighbors. Our neighbors are all living creatures. And to love them, to respect them, to care for them is a way to bring that Kingdom of God into our midst. That is what Ron believed and that is we too should be striving for as well in our lives. If we do that, even in small ways, we will be doing great good in this world. If we do that, even in small ways, we will be living out the ideal Ron hoped in.
For Ron, on this Wednesday afternoon, that Kingdom of God has been fully realized. For Ron, and for those of us who believe that life doesn’t end at death but continues on, this ideal of the Kingdom of God has been realized. The paradoxes of that Kingdom are in place. Ron is there—his vision made real for him. In that place, Ron is whole and healthy and complete and beautiful. In that place, Ron is fully and completely happy. In that place, Ron also awaits us. In that place, Ron is encouraging us to realize that place here in our own lives. He is commending us to be the conduits through which that Kingdom in which he now lives is made a reality here on this earth.
Our best way to honor Ron, to remember Ron, to celebrate what Ron has left us is to be these conduits. And the best way we can be conduits is by loving God and loving all of our neighbors—human and non-human—as ourselves. When we do, Ron will be close to us. Ron will be urging us on, encouraging us and commending us.
Yes, I will miss Ron greatly. We will all miss Ron greatly. But I know that Ron’s influence in my life will continue if I strive, even in small ways, to do what I learned from him. If I continue to work toward making Isaiah’s vision a reality in this world, then he will continue to be a part of my life.
I am going to close today with a prayer Ron shared with the vestry here at St. Stephen’s at our January meeting. In many ways, this prayer sums up Ron’s vision and his hopes for a better world.
Let us pray the prayer of St. Basil.
The Prayer of St. Basil
O God, enlarge within us the sense of fellowship with all living things, our little brothers and sisters, to whom Thee hast given this earth as their home in common with us.
We remember with shame that in the past we have exercised the high dominion of man with ruthless cruelty, so that the voice of the earth which should have gone up to Thee in song has been a groan of travail.
May we realize that they live, not for us alone, but for themselves and for Thee, and that they love the sweetness of life even as we do, and serve Thee in their place better than we in ours.
Amen.
2 comments:
Oh Jamie - was this who you were talking about this afternoon? What an eloquent speech this is - you are a beautiful writer. How wonderful to have you on the show again, AND with Kish and 4 Luv of Dog Rescue - how appropros...
Jamie, I finally found you! And what a beautiful introduction to your writing. My intention to read your poetry a while back was thwarted by summer and kids but now I am inspired to get at it, when I can find some quiet space, that is. I am committed to it and look forward to discussing our writing passions more in the future. Thank you now, though, for these beautiful, life-giving words.
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