Synod names
In November 2005, by action of
the New England Synod Council, the Resource Center of the New England Synod was
renamed The Janssen Resource Center of
the New England Synod, in honor of
Ruth Fritschel Janssen. Janssen, a retired
associate in ministry (AIM), organized the resource center in 1998 as a free
lending library funded by the New England Synod. Bishop Margaret G.
Payne presented a plaque to Janssen at her home in
Janssen died
Memorial Service for
Ruth Fritschel Janssen
Sermon given by the Rev. Clifford Gerber,
pastor,
Texts: Isaiah 40:6-9;
Psalm 121; Romans
Through the ordeal of Ruth’s battle with ALS, there was not
a lot of time spent in the hospital. At one point, however, decreased nutrition
and dehydration led to a time in the Intensive Care Unit at UMass
(
I knew what Ruth was talking about — thorough and systematic as I had always known her to be, and for which I admired her over the years. Ruth and I had spoken before of the things that she wanted to accomplish before she succumbed to the ravishes of the disease that had seized her body. One of those assignments particularly involved me. She wanted to prepare a Memorial Service — to choose the readings and the hymns and to at least paint the broad strokes of this service.
She asked me to take out a pen and paper. The pen was in my pocket, but the torn off corner of the placemat on her lunch tray had to suffice for note paper. Ruth wanted to tell me what she was thinking about, and she wanted me to take some notes.
Thus began the first of several discussions about what was important to Ruth regarding the form and content of today’s service. And I relate this to you today because I want you to under stand that this service is a part of Ruth’s witness to us, her family and friends. It is a witness to the faith in which Ruth lived her life and in which she died. (I say that it is a part of her witness to us because her most powerful witness was her life, itself.) And I want you to hear what Ruth was thinking as she made her plans.
The first thing that Ruth made clear to me was that this was to be a Memorial Service, not a funeral. There should be time so that her family wasn’t rushed to this moment. More importantly, this was not to be about Ruth’s earthly remains. This time was to be a celebration of the hope that God planted in each of us in our baptism.
The second thing — and this is closely tied to the first — is that this was to be a celebration of the Eucharist. The focus of this time that we have together to remember Ruth was to be about God’s promises, made visible and tangible to us in Word and Sacrament. This was to be a time in which we could celebrate, and tangibly receive, the hope that guided Ruth through her life and that sustained her through the last challenge of her life.
Back in the time when some of us were confirmed, there was a
scrupulously observed tradition of the pastor selecting a verse of scripture
for each of those who were being confirmed — a “confirmation verse,” it was
called. Which of us actually have consciously carried that verse in our hearts
and minds as we have traveled through life? My guess is, not many of us. But
Ruth knew hers, bestowed on her by her pastor father; it was 1 Timothy
“Fight the good fight of faith: take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”
“I have always tried to do that,” Ruth said to me, “especially now.”
Indeed, in her courage and dignity in the face of a disease that increasingly robbed Ruth of her vitality, we saw her fighting that good fight and holding fast to the promise God made to her in her baptism and which was affirmed in her confirmation. Her faith and trust in God’s love held her to the very last moment of her life.
Ruth’s confirmation verse was — as best as I could tell — a
motto for the whole of her life. I have known Ruth for almost as long as she
has lived in
In all of the ways that I have experienced Ruth’s offering of her many talents and her time and her considerable energy to her Lord in the ministry of the church, she has fought the good fight:
• fought it to impart God’s love and grace to children and adults as she led them to learn and grow in the faith;
• fought it to reach out to the hurts of the world and the world’s hurting people;
• fought it to extend the mission of Christ’s church by supporting new congregations;
• fought it by focusing our attention on welcoming the outsiders and seekers who come into our midst;
• fought it to illuminate and enable the ministry of women in the church;
• fought it by equipping pastors, and Associates in Ministry, and congregations with tools for ministry.
Infusing all of those things — and the countless other things that she did as she responded to the call of her baptism, to “fight the good fight of faith” and to witness the “eternal life” to which she was called — there was her warmth and a sure confidence of faith. Through her careful and methodical planning for the things of ministry, you never doubted that Ruth knew what she was doing it all for. It was — all of it, and more — her ministry “in the presence of many witnesses.”
Ruth wanted that confirmation verse held before us today. And in a wonderful way, for me — and I am sure for you, as well — it a summary of her life.
Ruth loved Brahm’s Requiem. In particular she was moved by its recitation of Isaiah 40:6—9. Her hope was inflamed by its proclamation that amid all of the impermanence of life — the withering grass and fading flowers of the field — God’s Word stands firm and forever.
She wanted us to hear those words today. She wanted us to lift up our voices with strength and — even in the midst of our grief and loss — to exult: “Here is our God!” Here is our God, offering his eternal promise.
She wanted us to hear a very similar understanding, ex pressed in Paul’s words to the Roman Christians. In the face of her death, she wanted to affirm that she, and we, are conquerors through the one who — in Christ — has loved us so profoundly. She wanted us to remember that not even death could separate us from that love of God in Christ Jesus.
The architectural imagery of Jesus’ words in John’s Gospel brought comfort to Ruth in her suffering, and she wanted us to hear those words about the Father’s house. Ruth had her own architectural image as she faced her death. “I believe that death is not an ending,” she said to me, “it is a door. It is a door into the promises of God.”
Ruth chose those readings. She chose some of her favorite hymns for us to sing and to hear. The last of those being the hymn with which the Wartburg College Choir, in which she sang, ended every concert. It was a fitting ending for this service — a reminder of who goes with us from this place, and who goes with her as she leaves this life: “Beautiful Savior.”
Usually, we think of Memorial Services as a kind of last gift that we give to our loved ones when they have been taken from us from this life. But today, we participate in a Memorial Service that is Ruth’s gift to us. It’s a gift of love to family and friends who nurtured and cared for her and whom she loved deeply and profoundly. It is her love offered to us and for which we return our thanks to God.
We offer God our thanks for a faithful and tireless worker in the Gospel, a loving and devoted mother and grandmother, a true and loving friend. God bless Ruth. God bless us and sustain us in our loss and fill us with the hope that we have been blessed to see shining through her life. Amen.