Earla’s commitment to the altar guild attuned her to the seasons of the church year. The paraments and colours around the altar had to be changed when the seasons changed – from Christmas white to Epiphany green to Lenten purple to Easter white to Pentecost red, etc.

So, Earla would know we are now in Lent, and what that implied as far as the communion ware, flowers and colours that did or did not appear around the altar. She followed those rules, and advocated for them, faithfully.

And I broke a big one. Not intentionally. During a worship service I spilled half a bottle of communion wine on the new carpet in the chancel right after the renovations were completed 8 years ago. Earla, despite being a stickler for doing things right, showed me much compassion and grace. There wasn’t a hint of anger or frustration as she helped me clean up the mess behind the altar.

What strikes me in this season of Lent in which she spent her last days, are what the scriptures assigned to the church at this time reveal about God. Consistently the texts depict the disciples of Jesus and others gathered around a feast, a meal, at table. God’s message of love and grace in these texts are conveyed in, around and through eating and being at table for a meal:

The story of the fig tree (Luke 13:1-9) came to us the day after Earla died: Figs are mentioned a few times in the New Testament because figs were a staple food item in the Mediterranean – like potatoes are for us today. Then, last Sunday, the story of the Prodigal Son (Luke 15:1-3,11b-32) ends with the Father throwing a great feast with the fatted calf for the son that was lost but now was found.

And tomorrow in the Gospel (John 12:1-8) Jesus is anointed by Mary but not after we find the disciples gathered with Jesus’ friends Lazarus, Mary and Martha around a meal in their Bethany home. I hope you hear the reference to a meal in each of the first two verses from the Gospel:

¹ Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. ² There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 

Here these friends are gathered to eat together. But surprise! The Gospel emphasizes that Lazarus was there too. This is the Lazarus who died but whom Jesus raised from the dead (John 11). To show the reality of this new life, he is described as “one of those [eating] at the table.”

Lazarus is no ghost, no figment of whimsical imagination, no other-worldly vision flicking in and out of our line of sight. No. This is real flesh and blood, consuming and digesting the food everyone else is eating. God’s promise of new life comes by way of mealtime with friends and family.

Earla loved food. She loved her fish filets from McDonalds and hot fudge sundaes. She indulged in her bacon and processed foods. She was 95 years old! Eating was not only a personal pleasure but a reason to gather with others in the church. When she was able, I don’t think she missed a church potluck.

Like the Gospel which takes pains to convey the truth, the reality, of the resurrection – in this case, Lazarus – the promise of new life for us, new life in Christ, can encourage us on our life’s journey.

Because it isn’t over. Not for Earla. Not for us. Some things have certainly changed. Your grief bears witness to the fact that you will no longer relate to Earla in the ways that gave you much joy, that created wonderful memories and supported you in many different ways.

But while the relationship has now changed, it isn’t over. And there are abundant signs of this! Both the poinsettia given to Earla in hospital a year and a half ago, and the orchid plant that lay dormant for two years in Earla’s keep are reminders of the hope and promise of being surprised by the gift of new life.

After that first Christmas the poinsettia was all but destined for the compost pile. But it refused to wither and die. Contrary to anyone’s expectations, the leaves to this day have produced red leaves and remained healthy. It was one plant in Earla’s hospital room, on the windowsill, that drew our attention in amazement each time I visited.

And after two years of producing nothing, it was just this month that her tiny orchid plant decided to bring forth its majestic blooms. Who would have anticipated this?!

Their centre remains a violet/purply reminder of the journey of life on earth that will often include suffering and pain. But their frame dominates in Easter white – conveying the hopeful message of resurrection. And as you can see there are more buds to come! More surprises on the way!

Earla’s liturgical sensitivities are on display to this day as these plants from her continue to shout out that your beloved Earla sits today around the table. But now she sits at the banquet feast of heaven.

To welcome Earla at that heavenly feast, I am sure the heavenly hosts are serving it up in abundance: fish filets, bacon and hot fudge sundaes for everyone!