Gather At The River

(One of the four eulogies delivered at the funeral service for George Thomas Moody, this one by Dwight A. Moody)

We began this service of worship with the invitation to “gather at the river.” That hymn is inspired by the very last chapter of the Bible. From the throne of God comes the river of life and on both side of that river is the tree of life, and its leaves are for the healing of the nations (Revelation 22:1-5).  It is a wonderful vision, an inspirational text, and a powerful song. Thank you for singing it with us.

In a few moments we are going to stand and sing another old gospel song, one that describes the passion and purpose of Tom Moody, “I Love to Tell the Story.” We will stand and sing, and the family will escort the coffin to the hearse. Then we will all gather, not at the river, but at the table, where there is plenty to eat, and where there will be plenty of stories about Tom. We want to hear all of them.

Before that we wish to thank all of you for coming “to give honor to whom honor is due” (Romans 13:7). We thank especially those who have helped us prepare for this service of worship and dinner on the grounds: Everett McCorvey and Angela Eaton Simmons, the musicians; Thomas Lyons, the custodian; Don Coliver and Charlie Powers, the sound and recording technicians; Becky Colliver the meal superintendent; Jessica Piersol, watching the small children today; Trish Huffman, the church administrator and our pastor Mark Johnson; and Anthony Castle and his team from Kerr Brothers Funeral Home.

My story is about another river, not the imagined river of life flowing from the throne of God but the real river flowing from the sea of Galilee south through the desert to the Dead Sea: The Jordan River.  Dad and I have been there four times together, once in 1978 when he was on sabbatical from the Murray church for a month; and again in 1996, 1998, and 2000 when we traveled with some of his grandchildren and groups from Georgetown, Owensboro, and Murray.  We explored every inch of that river valley from the wonderful spring of Tel Dan to the salty tundra of the Dead Sea. Somewhere along that meandering course, we must have come upon the place where, centuries ago, Elijah took his young associate Elisha for a final conversation.

The story is told in the second chapter of Second Kings in the Hebrew Bible. Elijah is at the end of his life and ministry.  “Come, with me to the Jordan River,” he says to Elisha.  “Tell me what I can do for you before I am taken from you.” Elisha, wise beyond his years, said, “I want a double portion of your spirit.”

“You have asked a hard thing,” Elijah said. “But if you are with me, and witness my translation from this life to the next, it shall be given you.”  No sooner had he said it than out from heaven a chariot of fire pulled by horses of fire swept down right between the two men, gathered up the great prophet and servant of God Elijah, and in a whirlwind, the text says, took him to heaven.

Elisha watched it all and said, as he saw his mentor and teacher swept to glory, “My father, my father, the chariots of Israel and the horses thereof.”  In his grief and admiration Elisha was asserting that the real strength of the nation was not the army under the command of the king but the prophet under the inspiration of the living and abiding God.

A double portion of your spirit, Elijah; and dear Tom, a double portion of your spirit: that’s what I want; that’s what we all want: a double portion of your spirit.

Tom was not like Elijah. Elijah was flamboyant and charismatic and very public. Not so Tom: he was simple and plain and mostly private. Elijah was given to emotional highs, like the challenge to the prophets of Baal on Mt Carmel, and also to lows, like the depression and fear that drove him deep into the cave. No so Tom: he was steady, from start to finish, sure of his footing and certain of his course. Elijah chased down and killed with the sword, the Bible says (1 Kings 18:40), 500 pagan prophets.  Dad hardly had the nerve or desire to put a worm on a fishing hook.

Tom was no Elijah; but he had gifts, wonderful gifts of the Spirit that make so urgent our own plea today, “God, give us a double portion of the spirit you put so generously in Tom Moody.”

Maybe it is the gift of gentleness you need today; Tom had it, and in abundance.  The fruit of the spirit is gentleness. James 3:17 reads, “The wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, full of mercy and good fruits.”  Yes, we remember the spankings as children, with a belt no less.  But these were aberrations in his essential disposition. He had a sweetness of nature and gentleness of soul that the world sadly needs today—that we need: at home, in church, and throughout the world.

Perhaps you need the double portion of laughter.  “He or she that hath a merry heart has a continual feast” (Proverbs 15:15). Human and laughter are underrated as gifts of God, as medicine for the soul, as joy to the world. Tom had it, and who can forget his deep, hearty laughter, right from the belly, right from the soul. Not sarcasm, or crudeness, not poking fun at people: but seeing and affirming the silly side of life, the unexpected humor that meets us around every corner. Who today needs a double portion of that?

What about his witness?  Of the many messages we have received on Facebook one stands out and is worthy of quoting. It is from Amsterdam, from Harriet who was an exchange student during high school in Murray, and she wrote: “I had many friends but [Tom and Reita] were special. I became a Christian that year and Bro Tom had a major part in that.” Sixteen years later, when Harriet got married, she and her fiancé travel to Murray so Tom could perform the wedding ceremony.

Personal evangelism has gone out of style in some quarters, as if telling somebody about Jesus is a form of arrogance, or presumption, or distain for their history. But Tom had this great gift: a conviction that knowing and loving Jesus does anybody good, does everybody good, does eternal and everlasting good. From early until late, from school days to rest home days, Tom was telling people about Jesus: not theology, not history, not ecclesiology, not political commentary.  Just Jesus: how God sent Jesus to live among us; how he went about doing good; how he healed the leper and touched the blind, received the poor, spoke with women, and embraced the unclean. Jesus: crucified for our sins and the sins of the world, buried in a borrowed grave, and on the third day, raised in glory from the grave; Jesus, who lives and reigns in heaven and on earth and among those people who call him Lord and follow in his ways.  This is the Jesus whose story Tom told to friends, and strangers, to children and grandchildren, to saints and sinners, to you and me. We all need a double portion of this Spirit.

So today we conclude this service of celebration singing this song that Tom loved and that extols one of the gifts that Tom had in abundance. As we stand and sing it today, you pray to God, “Give me a double portion of this spirit.”