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"Homily - Ann Haberstroh's Memorial
Service"
February 21, 2009
Ann Steiger Haberstroh
St. Mark’s Episcopal Church, Glen Ellyn, IL
At this very moment, while we are gathering here at St. Mark’s
to remember Ann and give thanks to God for her life, there is
another liturgy taking place in lobby of the McAninch Arts Center
at the College of DuPage. Since last Tuesday, a group of Tibetan
monks has been creating a mandala sand painting on a square
5’x5’ limestone topped table. Mandala is a Sanskrit
word meaning “circle” - a representation of wholeness.
The highly intricate design of the mandala is first mapped out
with chalk on the tabletop. Then over just four days, three
monks take turns tapping funnel-like dispensers to release grains
of sand, one at a time to create the many colored backgrounds
and hundreds of shapes, swirls, circles, symbols and lace-like
patterns. As one monk precisely places one, two or three grains
of magenta sand in the center of six triangles, another monk
taps light blue sand into a perfect sky-like background. The
monks to do not speak to each other or to observers. If you
close your eyes, you can hear the sound of the tapping, metal
rods along the spines of the metal funnels - a music of sorts,
similar to but more gentle than a nail running the length of
an old-fashioned washboard. The monks finished their work yesterday,
completing the mandala’s outer ring, which does not have
a definite edge but swirls of openings, where there is no sand
and the blackness of the tabletop. At 3 p.m. today, the monks
began a deconstruction ceremony. The sand is being swept together,
some given to the observers, and the rest to be taken to a nearby
river, where it will be poured in as a healing blessing to the
world. Something so painstakingly created will not be destroyed
but transformed into something unseen - thousands of particles
of sand with as many destinations flowing freely beneath the
surface of the stream.
It may be a coincidence that a liturgy for
Ann and a liturgy for the mandela are happening at the same
time. It may not. I ask you to consider how the mandala is like
a life, created one moment at a time, one experience, one relationship,
one meal, one errand, one book, one day, one month, one year.
Our eyesight is focused on the grains and small patterns that
appear. I have known Ann for about three years and was able
to view the outer ring of her life, which was a shift from intricacies
to simplicities, although still with design and meaning. It
is not within our ability to get the above view of the entire
mandela of Ann’s life in every detail. That is for God
alone. But we can get a glimpse of the overall pattern. There
are representations of places and images – Oshkosh, Wisconsin,
with its rugs and fine china, linens and childhood; Wyoming
with horses and cattle; Boston with its ivy, Harvard, typing
and shorthand; Colorado with its gardens, clubs, family life
and Martha as a baby and young child; Santa Barbara, with its
surf, orchids, horticultural expertise and teaching and Martha
as a teenager; Wheaton with its puzzles and games, Emily, Adela,
Paul, Martha and the Morton Arboretum. Imagine the colors –
dark greens and browns of forests and woods, light blues of
cloud streaked skies; creams of high plains; red of the Harvard
Square brick; purple of orchids, red of lipstick, orange of
Halloween crafts and gifts from grandchildren; yellow and brown
of toast fresh from the toaster. It is an intricate, complex
and breathtaking design. There are threads of joy, sorrow and
love throughout. Look again, and you’ll see a deeper theme
of faith that is reflected in our sacred stories. We recall
the beginning – the story of creation, when the Lord God
planted a garden in Eden, and at the same time put there the
man whom he had formed. From the very first, man has been in
and around the garden. We also look to the story of final redemption,
when in a great city, a river will flow from the throne of God
down the middle of the street, and a garden will be beside it.
At the center of Ann’s mandela is a garden, with plants
of the woods, desert and plains - orchids, mushrooms, cone flowers,
heath asters, goldenrod and prairie sage. The garden is a symbol
of God’s good creation and our place of contentment, and
Ann knew that in her soul and wanted to be there. Martha has
said that her mother was a “plant” – put her
in a location with good soil, water and enough sun, and she’d
grow and thrive. Yes, Ann may have been a plant, but one-of-a-kind,
with a variety of flowers and leaves of many shapes and colors.
The scriptures we have heard today remind
us that nothing is lost. Jesus says, “Do not let your
hearts be troubled.” A healthy heart does experience grief
and sadness. A troubled heart is one that is plagued by fear.
The message of our faith is often stated very simply –
“do not be afraid.” Do not fear for Ann, whose life
is not irretrievably lost. It is celebrated by God and also
by us today. Like the mandela that was so carefully crafted
and is being offered to the world as a blessing, Ann’s
life was its own sand painting, whose totality is beyond our
knowing but still a blessing to all of us. She loved life, and
shortly we will celebrate life and hope as we share the Eucharist,
which is a glimpse of that heavenly banquet, where with Ann
and all of the saints, there will be no more weeping, no more
fear, but the colors, fragrance, sights and sounds of a lush
garden.
Amen.
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