Jim MacDonald

Jim and Deb make an entrance

A Reflection on the Occasion of a Memorial Service for

 James Peter MacDonald

All Saints, Episcopal Church, Southern Shores, NC

December 27, 2015

Tom Wilson, Friend

I have been an ordained cleric in the church for over 30 years after I was trained in seminary to study theology and proclaim it by sermons and teachings -using my mind and my mouth. In Seminary they warned me to keep a professional distance. They said I could be friendly with my parishioners but I should make my real friends outside the parish because the people in your parish are your job. If you make friends with your parishioners you open yourself up to a world of pain. I followed that advice for a number of years because there was always a danger with being in an inappropriate relationship where I could destroy trust in God. But as the years went by I stopped, avoiding frienships; yet my professors had a point for there is indeed a price to pay because it hurts to lose a friend like Jim. While I know all about the fact that the deep energy in each of our lives,  this energy has been connected at the deepest level to the great river of energy which burst forst out of the womb of the Big Bang making this universe 14 Billion Years ago. This energy does not die, our bodies may die but the true substance of our very selves continues to be swept into that current of love to be joined into the divine sea, which I call God. Yes, I know all that, but I will miss Jim.

Today we will have a eucharist, a Holy Communion in which  we will bless and give out bread and wine as symbols of the Body and Blood of Christ. We invite you to come forward and receive these symbols and take them into yourself so that you may become what you eat- the Body of God living and working in this world. If you feel uncomfortable coming forward- that will be fine- “all may some should, none must.” If you are allergic to wine – it is fine if you do not drink it for it is meant to give you hope, not to give you grief. In my understanding, Jim's energy is still here with us and in my theology Jim and all who continue to be in God are on the other side of the table, unseen except with the eyes of faith. Heaven is not what happens after you kick off but about what current we choose to swim in this life and the next. I know all that stuff, but I will miss Jim.

I know I am not the only who will miss him. In our busy lives we miss connecting with each other so casually- for instance I missed the last Bocce Ball Tournament in the neighborhood. Jim did not for he took play seriously; himself he took less seriously but his friends and neighbors he took very seriously. Jim and his family- he was a parent and grandparent, father mentor to all his 7 children and 7 grandchildren. All of them were different but loved unashamedly equally. To some he was not only their dad but also their best friend. When a friend was going through a divorce  he asked Jim how he could continue to be a good father. His advice was simple: always show up, talk them every day if possible, and love them unconditionally. His greatest joy was those crazy summers that allowed he and Deb to spend one on one time with each family and create memories with them.

It would be kind to say that he had a checkered history on marriage but I did love the way he looked at Deb and as they celebrated the holy space between them. Maybe it is only when you mess up and come to grips with your complicity in the mess that you are able to realize how precious life is. Family was precious, I remember one men's group gathering last month where the subject of police brutality which had been in the news at the time came up and this old left winger started to wind up on the subject of “occupying forces”. Jim stopped my rant cold as he told me of the pride he had in knowing, and being related to, public safety officers. There may be some bad apples but he had faith and believed in friends and family.

Jesus asks us to believe and have faith and Jim MacDonald believed and had faith. There are two kinds of faith in this world. The first kind is the formal agreement to a set of propositions about God – or whatever it is in which you have faith; this is where you believe things in your thinking, accept them and speak them with your mouth. This is the institutional view of religious belief and faith which sets up creeds and boundaries between belief systems.  Some people keep their distance from their belief and faith systems and do not let them interfere with how they run their life. We see this in the daily news as people who profess active belief in religious institutions founded by people who preached of a God of love and compassion don't let that love and compassion get in the way of their own agendas of getting rich, or getting power or getting even.

There is another definition of belief and faith and it is about not what we do with our thinking and our talking but about our living on a daily basis, by how we use our hands and where our feet go, or how we touch and how we walk. This was Jim's way. His study of formal theology ended early in his life with the recital of religious formulae. He was good in his work with his jobs using his brain and mouth. Speaking of his mouth; that boy could talk, he was charming; he could talk the warts off a toad. I remember when I was sitting in the hospital room with Deb, I said, “You know this is the longest I have been in Jim's presence when he didn't laugh.” To which she replied, Or talk.”

He had many skills and talents; even in retirement he was sought by many organizations for leadership. Last year he finished a productive three year term on the Vestry, the elected leadership of this church, and was drafted to head up the Annual giving campaign, which was a great success, because he took it seriously, He understood that the goal was not in how much money was raised but about how much commitment it encouraged. Money was nice but it was commitment that was a cornerstone of his life and recovery; commitment enabled by amazing grace. He was good in his work with his brain and his mouth but, long before he moved here, long before I knew him, he found in the crossroads and back alleys of his life, that all sorts of what is referred to as “stinking thinking” was messing up his life. As a result Jim committed himself to a life on honestly looking at the world in which he lived and live anew in the one grace filled prayer that seemed to help him. The prayers goes- and those of you who might be fellow friends of Bill Wilson and Dr. Bob Smith can join in-  “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference. Just for today- one day at a time.”

Jim's faith was about using his hands and his feet. He went wherever he was needed as he walked with those who wanted to walk a new life. You could count on Jim to be there and sit with you and listen and maybe tell you the truth you may not want to hear. It did not matter if you were a Priest or a homeless person, his hand would grasp you in fellowship as he would invite you to walk with a power greater than ourselves, which he would not define in words but which he lived with his life. He knew how to love, he was good at it and his hands were how he showed it. I can still feel his arms around me exchanging the peace of God. St. Teresa of Avila, a 16^th century Spanish nun and mystic, wrote a poem which went:

Christ has no body now on earth but yours,
      no hands but yours,
      no feet but yours,
Yours are the eyes through which to look out
      Christ’s compassion to the world
Yours are the feet with which he is to go about
      doing good;
Yours are the hands with which he is to bless men now.

Today I invite you to continue to be the hands and feet of God as Jim was in the too, too short time we knew him in this world.