Memorial service for my uncle, James Parsley

James M. Parsley
(August 30, 1929 – January 21, 2011)

Fredrikson Funeral Home
Kindred, North Dakota

January 24, 2011

+I’m just going to say a few words about my uncle Jim.For those of us who knew Jim, we knew him as giant force. There was no getting around Jim. Physically, he was a big guy. And physically, as we all know, he suffered greatly. He was quite candid with me about his frustration over the fact that his physical body betrayed him. And certainly, it seemed to me anyway, that within that failing body, that body that betrayed him and often caused him much suffering, there was a vibrant, alive soul.

I enjoyed my visits with my uncle Jim. I enjoyed driving out to Kindred and sharing Holy Communion with him. I even enjoyed the talks we had about the Bible. He certainly had a strong and very confident opinion and understanding of Scripture. And as he talked about these things—and especially as he talked about God—there was a confidence.

Occasionally I would frown in confusion at something he would. When he would just tell me, “Trust me. Some day you’ll see that I was right…” And as he would say things like that, there light in his eyes. That light was life—bright, vibrant, fiery life. And that’s how most of us are going to remember Jim. As someone who was full of life. And as someone who was full of a very deep and abiding faith. Because although we know he suffered, although he had really bad days, somehow he never lost that faith and he never lost that fire in his eyes.

Even when I went to see him last Thursday at Elim, although he wasn’t awake, although he wasn’t able to communicate at all, even lying there, asleep, he seemed so full of life, even though it was obvious the end was near.

It was difficult for me to see him over these months, following the very sudden death of my father in September. I don’t think either of them would’ve agreed with me about this, but they were similar in some ways and I only fully realized after my father was gone and I would see Jim.. It was difficult to see Jim, because there were moments when, at least physically, he reminded me of my father.

But it was also good to see him during this time as well, when I finally could. One of the prayers I always prayed with him was a prayer from The Anglican Prayer Book of New Zealand. And it was a prayer he liked. The prayer went like this,

God of the present moment,
God who in Jesus stills the storm and soothes the frantic heart;
bring hope and courage to your servant, Jim.
Make him the equal of whatever lies ahead for him.
For your will is wholeness and strength
You are God and we trust you.

Jim knew that what lay ahead for him was not easy. But God truly did answer this prayer in so many ways. God did make Jim the equal of what lay ahead for him. I know it because I saw it. He faced his death without fear and with deep faith in where he was going.

We talked a lot about God and about his faith in God. And he talked a lot about that place he was going. There was no doubt in his mind about that place.

And tonight, we can rejoice in the fact that he is there. Tonight, he is freed. Tonight, that life-filled, independent spirit has been freed from those physical constraints and is truly and, for all eternity, freed. Tonight, he is happy and complete and content and wholly himself. For us, who are left behind, tonight and these last few days haven’t been so great . But the fact is, we, who are Christian, don’t get to despair over the fact he’s gone.

Certainly Jim didn’t despair. He never lost hope. He didn’t throw up his hands and give up.

That just wasn’t the Parsley thing to do, after all.

He knew and he would be quick to remind us, that this life is just a short moment in the grander scheme of God’s plan for us.

In our Gospel reading for tonight, he heard Jesus say that in his father’s house there are many mansions. I don’t know how Jim would feel about being in a mansion. But I have no doubt that, that is exactly what Jesus provided him with. And we can take consolation that one day, we too will cross over and we too will have a place prepared for us. And Jim will be there. And I can just imagine him telling me as I come into that place, “See, I told you so… Everything I told you was true.” And he probably will be right. Because, by then, when we are all there, it will all—somehow—make sense. It will all be the way it should be.

So, tonight, although we might be tempted to despair, we really cannot. While this might be a difficult for us, for Jim, this has been one great and glorious day without end. He has been relieved of his pain and suffering. The cross he carried he carried in his life has been lifted from him for good. And he has now come home.

Yes, we are sad for this temporary separation. But we are not despairing.

It’s not the Parsley thing to do.

When I heard of Jim’s death on Friday morning, I prayed a prayer for him that gives me a lot of consolation.

“Into paradise may the angels lead you. At your coming may the martyrs receive you, and bring you into the holy city Jerusalem.”

On Friday morning, Jim was received into that paradise. On Friday, angels led him to that holy city Jerusalem. On Friday, the martyrs received him and brought him home. One day we too will be received there as well. One day, we too will experience that wonderful paradise. So this afternoon and in the days to come, let us all take consolation in that faith that Jim found such sustenance in. Let us take consolation in the fact that Jim is complete and whole at this very moment and for every moment to come from now on. Let us take consolation in that paradise to which he has been received by martyrs and angels. And let us be glad that one day we too will be there, clothed, like him, with a glory and a happiness and a joy that will never end.

Amen.