This is the homily I preached at my mother's, Sara Beth Akre, memorial service on Friday, January 19th, 2018. Mom was 65 years old when she passed away.
A couple of comments the note before reading:
1.) This is my written manuscript and it is written in a style for preaching not publication. Therefore, I apologize for any grammatical errors you find as your read this homily.
2.) When I preach a homily or a sermon I do not follow my manuscript word-for-word. I allow space for the Holy Spirit to lead me and guide me. Because of this, what I write doesn't always match up with what I spoke from the pulpit.
3.) the bracketed paragraphs are additions I made after the homily was preached. They contain information that I spoke about in my homily but didn't originally write down in my manuscript. These paragraphs are not verbatim, but a paraphrase of what I remember saying.
“ We just love your mom!” That was the phrase I heard
quite a lot the first time I visited this church after my
mother had been installed as the pastor back in the spring of 2001. And, it was a phrase I heard a lot every time
I came back to this church for a visit.
But, then again, it seemed like every church my mother served at as a
pastor had this same opinion of her.
[The call to my mother came when she was working as a journalist for a Spokane, WA newspaper when she was in her late 20’s. Mom had gotten highly involved in the ministry of the church she was attending, and it was clear through her work that the Holy Spirit had bigger plans for her. Mom was truly a pioneer, not just because she decided to travel east to the Midwest in order to pursue her seminary education, but also in the fact that back in the 1970’s it was highly uncommon for women to pursue the ministry and not so socially accepted. But when the Spirit called, no matter what challenges may have lied ahead, mom was ready to face them head on!]
My mother Sara was ordained back in 1981 after having
graduated Wartburg Seminary in Dubuque. She was one of the first 100 women to
be ordained in the then American Lutheran Church, and even possibly in the
entire nation. She spent 31 years as a parish pastor helping to guide people in
their faith journeys, teaching them how to grow closer with God; how to live
out their faith in daily life; helping them experience God’s grace through word
and sacrament; and surrounding them with God’s love and compassion during
challenging times. Through it all I know my mother touched the lives of many
people through living out her call.
But as much I would love to stand here and talk about all the wonderful things about my mother, I cannot do that, for it wouldn’t be a true telling of mom’s story. You see, my mother had a very troubled life, for throughout the second half of her life she battled with addiction. Her first battle lasted 12 years as she struggled with Bulimia. From there it turned to overeating as these addictions would trick my mother by temporarily relieving the deep pain she felt from her depression. But none of these were as bad as her addiction to alcohol. Each of these addictions stole my mother from me and my siblings, but by far the alcohol was the worst.
It was back in 2007 when I lost my mother to alcoholism. She was already an alcoholic by then, but that was when she left the family for good as she headed out west to a new parish in Cut Bank, MT. Over the next 10 or so years, the things alcohol made my mother do were despicable, and slowly my mother began to burn bridge after bridge with her ministry, with her friends, with her family, as the alcohol continued to convince her that the only thing that mattered was the next drink. And as the alcohol continued to exert its control over my mother, she began to sink into a deep darkness which eventually led her to a sense of hopelessness, despair, and even a loss of faith.
But no matter how much the alcohol tried to distance
my mother away from everything, God never stopped searching for her. You see,
throughout the past 10 years mom had tried, on 5 different occasions, to break
free of alcohol’s influence by choosing to go to rehab. Deep down inside of her
there was an unquenchable drive to receive healing and become whole once more;
to reclaim her true identity back from the alcohol. I believe she had this
drive because God would not stop searching her out; God would not relent in
reminding my mom who she truly was—baptized, beloved child of God.
The day after my mom’s death, my sister Jessamyn found a notepad with what I call my mom’s last confession. The notepad was part of my mother’s most recent rehab experience, as the pages are filled with writings based on the 12 step program. While a lot of what my mom wrote was difficult to read, confessing all the ways alcohol had interfered with her life and the lives of her loved ones, she also wrote some very honest things that made me realize that God had found her once again. In one of her assignments she needed to write about how a higher power was going to help her regain control from the alcohol. As my mother wrote she explained how alcohol had caused her to lose her faith and how difficult it was for her to believe in a higher power. But then she started talking about the ways she has come to experience the higher power in her healing through the smiles of her grandson; the members of her AA group, and the counselors that were helping her get through it. While mom, wasn’t sure what to call this higher power anymore, it was clear that she had recognized its work through others whom were walking with her on her journey of healing. God had embraced her through the care of others!
But what has truly convinced me that God relentlessly sought my mother out to help her reclaim her true identity, it was the way she looked as I viewed her dead body in the funeral home this past Saturday. I cannot explain it, but there was this look of peace on her face that told me all of her burdens, all of her demons, had finally been taken away from her. Her face didn’t look sickly anymore, it didn’t look hopeless, it looked as if she was resting on the shoulder’s of Jesus after a weary journey. As I gazed at her face, I knew that my mother didn’t die alone. I am certain that in her final moments, she saw Jesus. And the look on her face conveyed to me that when she saw Jesus, her final thought was: “You found me.” And Jesus’ reply was, “Of course, I never stopped looking.”
While my mother failed to regain control over the alcohol in this life, what is good news for me, and hopefully for you too, is that in the end the alcohol couldn’t hide her from Jesus. The alcohol didn’t get the final say, nor did ever gain full control, for in the end Jesus came and raised my mother to a resurrection free from the demons of alcohol. Now, because she is forever with Jesus, there is nothing that can sink my mother back down into darkness, for her tomb has been burst open with the Light of Christ, and the darkness has been swallowed up by his light!
And this is good news, for it means that there is nothing in this world, no matter how hard it tries to distance us and plunge us into darkness, there is nothing in this world that can separate us from Jesus. Jesus will never stop searching us out; never stop finding us; and never stop finding ways to bring us healing and wholeness.
[And so I stand here on this very emotional day, missing my mother, but assured and relieved that her burdens have indeed been lifted; that Jesus again restored her to her true identity, beloved child of God; and that even though we must remember the darkness of addiction that stole my mother and created heart ache for the rest of us in the process, we can leave here truly knowing that mom is now at peace, resting on the shoulders of Jesus, free from the darkness, and resurrected to the beautiful and wonderful woman she God created her to be. Amen.]
