SJS News

A Homily
By the Revd. Dr. D. Stuart Dunnan
The Chapel of Saint James of Jerusalem
Easter 2026

“Mary Magdalene came to the tomb . . . “  (Jn.20.1)

    It is often my privilege to be with people when they die and/or with their families as we process the death and plan the funeral and burial, which are not always at the same time.

    My very first burial was when I was the junior chaplain at what was then Harvard School for Boys in Los Angeles, California.  The headmaster called and told me that an alumnus had died and that his family wanted me to scatter his ashes from his yacht which was docked at Newport.  He had been a very successful car dealer and was generous to the school, so the headmaster told me to go with the flow and just do what they told me.

    As you can imagine, I was pretty churchy when I was newly ordained and could be a stickler for “the rules,” but this was a direct order, and I am very obedient, as you all know.

    When I arrived at the marina the next Saturday, I went to the dock where his widow and a small company of his best friends were waiting for me.  Everybody was very welcoming and excited to be there.  The plan was to motor beyond the three mile limit out to sea and then scatter his ashes off the back of the boat.

 Predictably, there was an open bar and the trip took a while, so the company was pretty jolly once we got there, and I suddenly realized that I could not scatter the ashes from the deck but had to climb down to the swimming platform off the back to scatter them.

    Challenged to get everyone’s attention and uncertain of how all this would go, I finally shouted “will you all please put your glasses down so that we can focus on this?” which I suddenly realized would probably get me fired, but they listened and gathered more respectfully as I read the burial office.  I then climbed down the ladder in my cassock and surplice with my stole flapping around my neck, my prayer book under my arm, and the urn in my one free hand.  Ready to fall in the water, I said the final prayers and scattered the ashes into the wind, which blew them back on to me, thinking to myself but not saying out loud that “this is not the way that this is supposed to be done.”

And then it happened, a pod of dolphins appeared and gathered behind the boat and followed us back to the marina.  They were beautiful, and our alumnus’ wife told me that he used to love to sit in his deck chair and watch the dolphins play in the wake, especially towards the end of his life when he was sick and in pain, and she of course was with him.

    In her mind and the minds of the friends she had gathered, this was a sign, and they were all of them greatly moved and some of them were crying.  The dolphins had come to honor him and to carry him home.

***

    I learned that day a very important lesson, which I have never forgotten and I have carried with me through these past 39 years of priestly ministry.  My headmaster was right.  When it comes to deaths and funerals and burials, leave the fussiness behind, honor the company, and “go with the flow.”  In short, be open to the grace that comes from God.

    And the reasons for this are simple.  

First, funerals and burials are mostly for the living, as they provide the necessary occasion for the bereaved to register their loss and to accept the beginning of their lives without the one for whom they are grieving, to give thanks for the gift of that life, and to pray for his or her continuing life with Christ to come.  They are liturgical reminders that life goes on both in this world and in the next and that God is always in charge.

    Second, there is usually a chosen company at a death and therefore in planning a funeral and often at the burial who have experienced more intimately the dying of the one they love.

    Usually this is the spouse if there is one, the nearby adult child or children, and closest friends. For a younger death, the children may not be adult yet and the parents of the parent are still usually very much involved.  In a child’s death, the parents and grandparents and often aunts and uncles are all involved and always just overwhelmed by the tragedy of an early loss.  And almost always there are close friends and neighbors; in the case of a Saint James death, the friends are often Saint James friends, even decades after they have graduated.

    But in every case, there is that smaller chosen group that has walked the walk and kept the watch with the one they love. And this whole experience has been incredibly bonding for them.  It has brought them closer together and often closer to God. 

Even pain and suffering can be for those who have stayed with the one who was dying gifts to help with their grieving because witnessing the one they love suffer helps them to say goodbye and let go.  I myself have often thought when I have been in this company that the moment has come and that the time has come for the one I love to move on because he or she has suffered enough.  I remember thinking this when I had the care of my father and then my mother, and they both died just days afterwards.

And yes, there is often a sign or even several signs that the time indeed has come and that the angels of God are there to help with the transition, just as they did in the tomb and just like those dolphins playing in the wake of that boat.

My mother saw light breaking into her bedroom and spoke to my grandfather when he came to take her home, and for those of us who knew them, she was the one for whom he would come, and he was the one whom she would trust.

I cannot begin to tell you how often I have heard these stories and how encouraging they have been to those left behind.  And almost always when people tell me what they have witnessed or experienced they are telling me a secret truth that is “too religious” to confide in anyone else.

And often it is the ones who are dying who will tell me that they are more worried for the ones they are leaving than for themselves, or who ask me to help them to convince their loved ones to let them move on.

***

This is why St. John’s version of the miracle of the Resurrection seems so realistic to me even though it was written later than the other three gospels and is in truth something of an amalgam of their accounts.

What seems real is that the small group that is there to witness this miracle appears to be the kind of chosen circle that I often see when I come to the hospital room or to the house, because they are the ones who love Jesus more deeply and whom he loves and in return.

It is therefore Mary Magadalene who is the star of the story because she is the most courageous and faithful.  But she was not the star of the story before perhaps because she was a woman so invisible in an ancient patriarchal society and therefore not one of the twelve.  In fact, we do not really know who she is.  St. Luke tells us that she was one of several women “healed of evil spirits and infirmities.”  (8.1-2) She may also be Mary the sister of Martha or perhaps the woman taken in adultery, but the evangelists never really tell us.  She is just a follower and a friend of Jesus who is profoundly grateful to him and loves him very much, but she is the one who stays with him at the cross and even beyond his death, so the first to realize that his tomb is empty.

Peter, who was always his leading disciple, is appropriately the one she goes to tell, and true to form, he rushes over, as he so often did when Jesus was alive, and so does John the beloved disciple, who may be John the brother of James and son of Zebedee or someone else.  Again, the evangelists don’t really tell us.  But the writer of this gospel appears to know who he was and to have heard his personal story, which may be why he named his gospel for him because he believed that John was close to Peter and to Jesus as well, so particularly trusted and loved.

But Mary is the star:  the one who just will not leave Jesus even though he is dead, the one whom he calls by name and who recognizes him immediately, and the one who will not let go.

And listen to what he tells her: “Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father.”  I am moving on.

***

This is what resurrection means to me:  our continuing journey with God beyond what we are experiencing now.  And I do not need to know what exactly this life will be, although I do believe as Jesus taught us that what we do and say in this life does in some measure determine what awaits us in the next.

I just think of that moment as a door open to us when we die like all the other doors he opens for us even now as we live, like that rock rolled away at the entrance of the tomb, because it is Jesus who has opened this door for us by his cross and sacrifice and by his resurrection to eternal life.

And this is why we as Christians should not be afraid to die and should live our lives before we die with faith, so with courage and generosity, empathy and compassion, and why we should never be afraid to be with those who are dying, especially if we love them and they love us.  We should not hide from them or avoid them or pretend that we are too important or not important enough to be with them, especially if we are.

 And we should also not be afraid to be with those who are grieving, because those who are truly and deeply grieving have been to that tomb with Mary, Peter, and John, where the stone has been rolled away, revealing to them and to us a whole new life to come.  

Amen.