The funeral for Lois Hokana

Lois Hokana

(July 23, 1924 - February 18, 2018)

Grace Lutheran Church
Oakes, North Dakota

February 24, 2018

+ It is a true honor for me to officiate at this service. I am very grateful to celebrate the truly wonderful life of Lois Hokana.

And it was a wonderful and beautiful life! There is much to be thankful for today.

She was an incredible and lovely person. Actually, that’s very much an understatement. But you get the idea here…

I am very fortunate to say that I knew Lois many years. I knew her mostly through the work we did in the Episcopal Diocese of North Dakota. I was also very fortunate to visit her in the hospital in Fargo last September and to pray with her and spend some time with her.  And I certainly enjoyed greatly those years I knew her.  As all of us here did as well.

I can say, this afternoon, that, like everyone here this afternoon,  I will miss Lois dearly. I will miss all that she was. I will miss her gentleness, her kindness, her fierce independence, her exuberant joy.  I will miss the witness of her faith—her very strong faith. I will just miss…her!

I know today is hard for those of us who loved her and admired her and were fortunate enough to know to say goodbye to her.  And it is a goodbye, yes. But…it is only a temporary goodbye. It is a goodbye until we see each other again.

Lois, I know, had a very deep faith and belief that we would, one day, all see each other again.  She had a deep faith in her God, who was with her and remained with her until the end. She had a deep faith in Christ, as her Savior.

Now, I say that, but I should also say that she probably wouldn’t like me to make her to be some kind of saint here. She would not doubt not appreciate my getting up here and making too much of all the good things she did.  She was an Episcopalian after all. Most Episcopalians don’t feel the need to go on too strongly about their faith. But I can assure you, her faith was strong. She was always, to the very end, a good Episcopalian and a faithful follower of Jesus.

Certainly, she loved her church of Sts. Mary and Mark. It is sad today that this funeral cannot be held there today. But, you know, it’s all right. It all works out in the end.  And where she is right now, church buildings no longer matter. She is now part of the larger Church, the unending worship that goes on , without end, before the Throne of the Lamb of God. And she is there. And it is glorious!

 Now, people often ask me, “so, what is it you Episcopalians believe?”

I always say, “We believe what we pray.” (that answer doesn’t always go over so well, but it’s the truth)

We’re not big on dogmas. We’re not big on saying we must believe this or we must believe that. If you want to know what we believe, just pray with us. Worship with us. And then you’ll know what it is we believe.

We’re not big on definite answers to the mysteries of faith and life.  And death. But we are big on prayer and worship.  Our liturgy—what we find contained in our Book of Common Prayer—encompasses our beliefs very well.

And, I can tell you, that it certainly did for Lois Hokana.  If you asked her, “Lois, what do you believe?” she would quick to point you to the Book of Common Prayer.

This service we are celebrating together today from the Book of Common Prayer is a great summary of what it is we as a whole—and Lois in particularly—believed regarding life and death and what comes afterward.  The scripture readings we have today are particularly apt.

In our reading from Lamentations, we find a beautiful summary of Lois’ faith. In our reading, we hear,

The Lord is good to those who wait for [God],
   to the soul that seeks [God].
It is good that one should wait quietly
   for the salvation of the Lord.

“It is good that we wait quietly for the salvation of God.”

That is very clearly what Lois did in her life.  And that is not a bad way to live out one’s faith. It is good that we wait quietly for the salvation of our God.

In our reading from Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians, we hear St. Paul saying to us,

For in this tent we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling

Or to put in our own terms, in these bodies, yes, we groan, waiting to be clothed in that heavenly body—to be clothed in spirit and light and life unending. Last Sunday, Lois was finally clothed with that spiritual body, in a glory that we can only, in this moment, imagine. And in this service, in the words we pray together today, we get a beautiful summary of all that awaits us.  

Probably some of the best of these beautiful words is at the end of our service today. At that time, I will lead us in what is called “The Commendation.”  The Commendation no doubt meant the world to Lois, as it does to all of us who hear it, and more importantly, to those of us who believe it.

Now for many of us, we have heard the words of the Commendation hundreds of times. But that, as Lois would no doubt would tell us, that is no excuse to not pay attention.  Because if you do pay attention, you will find the heart of Lois Hokana’s faith.

In the Commendation, we will say,

Give rest, O Christ, to your servant with your saints,
where sorrow and pain are no more,
neither sighing, but life everlasting.

And it will end with those very powerful words:

All of us go down
to the dust; yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia,
alleluia, alleluia.

Those are defiant words, if you notice. They are words that someone like Lois, who was so fiercely independent, who was such a maverick, who was so cutting edge at a time when women were not very independent, who were not defiant—these are now her words.  Those words in which, even in the face of all that life—and yes, even death—throws at us, as it did to Lois at times, we, like her, can hold up our heads with dignity even then,  with an integrity like her integrity, and a grace like her grace, bolstered by our faith in Christ.

Even in the face of whatever life may throw at me, we can almost hear her say, I will not let those bad things win.

“…yet even at the grave we make our song: Alleluia,
alleluia, alleluia.”

Even you, death, will not win out over me. Even in the face of the awful things life and death can throw at us, I will hold up my head with strength and I will face you, o death, without fear.  And, because I have faith in my God, you, death, will not defeat me.

Death has not defeated Lois Hokana! That is how Lois faced the death, and the glory that was revealed to her following that death.

Today, all the good things that Lois Hokana was to us—that woman of strength and character and integrity—all of that is not lost.  It is not gone.  Death has not swallowed that up.

Rather all of that is alive—vibrantly and wonderfully alive!—and dwells now in Light inaccessible. All of that dwells in a place of peace and music and joy, where sorrow and pain are no more, neither sighing, but life everlasting.  In a place in which, there never again be any more tears. Except, maybe, tears of joy.

And for us who are left, we know that that place awaits us as well.  That place of light and joy awaits each of us as well. And we to will have the opportunity to dwell there.

I will miss Lois. We will all miss her and will feel her loss for a long time to come. But, on this day in which we bid her this very temporary goodbye, let us also be thankful. Let us be thankful for this woman whom God has been gracious to let us know and to love. Let us be thankful for her grace and her beauty and her strength and her independence.

Let us be thankful for that smile that she had. Let us be thankful for her and all she was to us.  Let us be thankful for her example to us. Let us be thankful for all that she has taught and continues to teach us. And let us be grateful for all she has given us in our own lives.

Let us be thankful to our God for Lois Hokana!

Into paradise may the angels lead you, Lois.

At your coming may the martyrs receive you,

and bring you into the holy city Jerusalem.  Amen.