The Requiem Mass for Leon Gelinske

 

The Requiem Mass for

Leon Gelinske

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Fargo, ND

Saturday  May 28, 2022

 

+ Sometimes when you’re a priest there are hard funeral sermons to preach, and sometimes there are easy funeral sermons to preach.

 Hard funeral sermons are for those people who died suddenly, for whom there was no preparation, for people who die young, for people whose stories are not even close to completion.

 The easy ones are for people like Leon Gelinske—people who knew what they wanted and let me know what they wanted.

 I am always grateful for those kind of funerals.

 Well, I’m just grateful in general for Leon, and for who he was in the life of all of you, in the life of St. Stephen’s and in my own life.

 Yes, I was his priest for the better part of 15 years.

 But more than that, he a very dear friend.

 Actually, he was like an uncle to me.

 The Gelinskes have been very important in my life, and I have always kind of felt like I was just another Gelinske kid.

 I could’ve just snuck in and no one probably would’ve noticed.

 But certainly Leon always treated me like I was one of the kids.

 He was always kind but firm with me.

 And I gotta say, every time I saw him, I was always truly glad to see him.

 Whether it was at a family gathering, or coming into church with shillelagh, or in any capacity, it was just always kind of special to see Leon.

 Well let’s face it: Leon was special.

 Even though he was kind of like a cross between Burt Reynolds and Johnny Cash, he actually had the quiet dignity of Clint Eastwood.

 This was a man who strong.

 And by that I mean he had REAL strength.

 And he didn’t have to prove it.

 He just WAS.

 There was just deep, abiding strength with him.  

 Not just in his body, but in his very character.

 He truly was well-represented by his spirit animal, the Rooster.

 The rooster is perfect for Leon.

 The rooster, after all, is a strong, solid animal.

 It has a natural confidence about it.

 You know not to mess with a rooster unless you want to face its wrath.

 Michelle has shared with me plenty of stories of her run-ins with roosters over the years.

 The Rooster symbolizes bravery, strength and vigilance,

 A rooster walks through life with its head high.

 It faces its challenges with determination.

 And they are excellent time keepers.

 They know when the day is about to dawn.

 They seek out that morning sun, which will cut through the darkness of the night.

 And they will announce that light loudly and clearly.

 Its job is to wake you up, to not let you sleep the day away.

 It seems to say, “Don’t waste the day. Don’t miss the sunlight.”  

 All of that describes Leon.

 Here at St. Stephen’s, a place that was very important Leon and to his family, his children decided to have a stained glass window dedicated to Leon’s memory.

 The window was designed by our own Gin Templeton, who designed these other windows, and will be installed later this summer.

 The window will say GO IN PEACE, and in one corner of the window there will

be a silhouette of a rooster.

 Every time we look at that window and see that rooster above that door that Leon passed through so many times before, we will think of him.

 He will still be there in a sense, telling us to get up, wake up, to go out there in peace and do what needs to be done.

 See, this is what I mean by an “easy” sermon.

 Someone like Leon writes his own funeral sermon.

 He did so when we talked about his inevitable dying when he was first diagnosed.

 If you asked him, “Are you afraid of dying?”

 He would shrug his shoulders in that way, he would make that’s sound he would make (Bryan I think does it really well), and he would say, “It’s just the way it is. You live. You get old. You get kind of feeble. Then you die. I know how it goes.”

 And he did.

 And he did it his way.

 He did it on his own terms.

 And it was just the way it was meant to be.

 And it’s somehow all right.

 I know these last couple of months were difficult for Leon.

 I think the more limited he became physically, the more frustrated he became.

 I think it was hard for him to deal with his mortal body giving up on him.

 For those of us who have felt that our bodies have turned against us, to some extent, we feel a certain sense of betrayal.

 But, today, we can take some consolation that, for Leon, all of that is behind him.

 We can move on from his passing as he would want us to.

 With our heads held high.

 Brave.

 Sure.

 Confident.

 These Gelinske children, and grandchildren do that well.

 They learned well form the Rooster.

 Of course, it’s all right to be sad.

 It’s all right to feel the loss that comes with his passing.

 The world is a different place without Leon Gelinske.

 It’s a bit more empty.

 His absence is felt profoundly.

 But his example remains.

 And for those of who have faith,  like Leon did, we know, like him.

 Our consolation is that the place in which Leon dwells now awaits us as well.

 Yes, now we may be have tears in our eyes.

 Yes, now we may be feel sadness.

 Yes, now, in our lives, we may feel pain.

 But our consolation today is in the fact that in that other place, that place of light, that place in which our spirits will dwell, there will never again be pain.

 There will never again be tears.

 There will never again be sadness.

 That is our consolation today.

 For now, we must move on.

 We must be strong.

 We must face the day that lies before us.

 The sun is risen.

 The day is beautiful.

 The rooster has crowed.

 And it’s time for us to get out there and do what we have to do.

 We must make the most of what we have been given in this life.

 This is what gets us through.

 This is where we find our strength.

 I will miss Leon.

 I will miss his quiet presence in my life.

 I will miss his smile and his no-nonsense approach to every thing.

 I will miss that quiet strength he carried with him everywhere.

 We will all miss him and feel his loss for a long time to come.

 But we will keep him close every time we try to live up to his standard of life.

 His strength has not left us today.

 That quiet dignity of his is not gone.

 It is lives on.

 It is certainly there in you, his children and grandchildren.

 It is in all of us who knew him and loved him and will miss him.

 That is what I call a pretty good legacy.

 Not everyone is able to leave that kind of imprint behind them in this world. 

 But Leon did.

 So, let us be thankful for Leon Gelinske.

 Let us be thankful for his presence in our lives.

 Let us be thankful that God allowed us to know him for however long we were granted. 

And let us go from here and live out the example of this amazing man in our own lives.

 Into paradise may the angels lead you, Leon.

 At your coming may the martyrs receive you.

 And may they bring you with joy and gladness into the holy city Jerusalem.

 Amen.