Vic James

 

A Reflection and Poem for the Celebration of the Life of Howard Victor (Vic) James

November 13, 3021         All Saints, Southern Shores, N.C.          Thomas E. Wilson

Vic James

As I tried to get my thoughts together for today, was struck with the Gospel lesson for last Sunday from John's Gospel on the Raising of Lazarus into a new life. The lesson ends with Jesus telling us, his followers, to unbind the dead person and set them free. There are two deaths we have to go through in this life. One is the death of ourselves as the center of universe. This is when get rid of the bindings of selfishness, and bitterness and get rid of the graven, and craven, image of the faraway Old Man Above the Sky, in order to become alive to the Holy who lives in the space in and between us and our neighbor and the Universe seeing all as a place of blessings. That is a death we sometimes need to go through several time a day. The second death is when our bodies die, removing all the boundaries between us and the Holy. This is the 2^nd death for Vic, on May the 5^th of this year.

 I was helped by a second passage of scripture which was from the Psalm for today, Psalm 46:5 “There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, * the holy habitation of the Most High.” I found a way into a metaphor for Vic's first death.

Decades ago, I lived in a valley cut between two hills on the banks of a river in Upstate New York. In the summer I would swim in it, in the fall I would canoe in it, in the winter I would skate on its frozen surface, and in the spring, I would be in awe of the floods of the melting ice and snow making the fields rich for planting a garden. I went to church and memorized creeds and prayers, but whenever I wanted to get close to God, I would go the river. Years later when I would get so busy and far away from the Holy, I would retreat to sing an anonymous song: “Peace is flowing like a river, flowing out from you and me, flowing out into the desert, setting all the captives free.”

Being with Vic James was being on the banks of a river. Like the River, he had depths underneath the calm surface. Like the River, he nourished those he was with. Like the River, he had to keep adapting. Like the River he has pollution and abuse dumped on him, yet he kept on flowing. Like the River, he made glad the city of God living in him. Like the River, he generously bestowed blessings. Like the river, he absorbed the attacks, for he was bigger than the attackers. Like the River, he was made up of many tears and life. Like the River, you could count on him. Like the River, many times he was silent, and you knew he was listening, floating with you. Like the River, he was loyal. Like the River, I could count on him.

I have not seen that River in Upstate New York since my last high school reunion years ago, but it's Spirit is still flowing within me. It has been several years since I last saw my friend Vic James, but his Spirit still flows in my soul, flowing out into my deserts, helping set this captive free. Thanks be to God!

Vic James

Bindings come in many shapes and sizes,

there are those physical ones of course,

of hand and body or harnessing of horse;

but then there are the emotional surprises.

Those times when that old anger holds,

binding us hostage to the once upon hurt,

hanging on to us, rubbing our noses in dirt,

keeping minds captive, wrecked on shoals.

Vic became free of that hectoring time within,

by spending time helping others put down as kids

quietly, non-judging, unbinding, until he or she rids

themselves to forgive, for life's too short for them.

Forgiving is not forgetting, but peace replacing

all the bindings, setting free for love embracing.