Homily for Louise Isgrig - John 11:21-27

What an honor it is to celebrate Louise’s life with you today, or for many of you, Bobo’s life. As someone who brightened the day of everyone who knew her, even her memory can help brighten this cold and dreary day. I knew Louise first as the smiling face in the kitchen at Christ Church, serving up breakfast and friendliness on Sunday mornings. I also knew her more recently as the woman in the sitting area at Presbyterian Village, waving cheerful and chatting with everyone who walked by. Her memory might have faltered, but her spirit absolutely kept shining through. 

If we have some Central High graduates here today, you’ll be happy to know that even in hospice care, Louise was doing cheers with the chaplain, also a Tiger. “Hail to the old gold, hail to the black,” they would sing, much to Louise’s delight. A cheer could always point her in the right direction, even at the end of life. She was a natural cheerleader back in the day. It suited her personality to a tee. That kind of natural enthusiasm is a gift, which Louise used well throughout her long life. She could flash that smile of hers and make anyone feel welcome. And it was contagious.  

Her enthusiasm, of course, ran far deeper than cheerleading. It translated into a kind of optimism about life. She enjoyed life, that’s for sure, but there was more to it than that. Whether it was waiting on the outcome of her boyfriend’s capture in WWII, or raising children, or volunteering in the community, she held fast to seeking the common good and the positive. I was particularly struck by the lovely tribute to Louise’s life in the obituary, which describes this outlook of hers well. If you read it quickly and just on the surface, you might assume that her life was nothing but good days. We know that’s not true. Everyone has challenges. But her steadfast optimism saw her through in such a hopeful way, and with a joy that was infectious to those around her. 

That quality throughout Louise’s life has something to say to us about the gospel. Consider the reading that Ann and Kathy chose for this service. In a scene from John’s gospel, we find Jesus arriving at the home of Lazarus just after he has died. His sisters, Mary and Martha, are grief-stricken. In their emotion, Martha has some choice words for Jesus, who, she believed, should have come sooner to save her brother’s life. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” They quickly get into a high level discussion about resurrection. Jesus tells Martha that Lazarus will rise again. In fact, a few verses later, Jesus will raise Lazarus from the dead. But we should note that this was not to save Lazarus’ life; Lazarus after all would eventually die again. It was to show something of God’s glory, something of the truth of resurrection which transcends every human life and death. Jesus tells Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live.” 

This, I think, is Jesus’ hardest teaching to understand, especially when we hear it on the occasion of losing our own loved one. What is resurrection? What does it mean to live after death? We struggle to comprehend what Jesus means about being the resurrection and the life himself, and that we will have life in him when our earthly lives come to an end. We may not fully understand this teaching yet, but we know there is a profound hope in it. 

Which, I think, has something to do with Louise’s abiding hope, even her contagious enthusiasm. The gospel tells us that there is a love that runs through life as we know it, and it is stronger than death itself. To know Jesus is to know something of that love, even if we only know it in a partial way on this side of heaven. Louise tapped into that love throughout her life, and offered it to those around her. We have faith that she now understands that love fully. She now understands how her life and our lives are connected to eternal life, to resurrection, and to God’s love itself. As we honor her life today, we give thanks to God for giving us someone who consistently pointed us all in the right direction.