The poet Alfred, Lord Tennyson has the ancient Greek hero Ulysses say, “I am a part of all that I have met”. More completely,
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’
Gleams that untravell’d world, whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use!
As tho’ to breathe were life. Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.
I am a part of all that I have met. Ulysses knows that he has received much from his travels and his experiences and that he has much to share. Indeed life piled on life would not be enough to share it all, and, sadly, all too little remains of this one life. He was a part of all that he had met, and it a part of him, and share it he must.
Velton Edmonds too had much to share. And just as he was a part of all that he had met, so you too, his family and his friends, are part of him and he of you.
Some little while ago that I realized that in several ways, Velton reminded me of my own father. Both of them were letter carriers; both of them loved music, especially church music, most especially classical church music. Both of them had hearts that felt deeply and, though their words were few, their tears were real and their feelings genuine. Both of them loved to dress and look good; on Sundays, when I would greet Velton at the door, I would look at his tie, and, never dreaming that today would come so soon, would say, “Velton, I like that tie. Leave it to me in your will, won’t you?” And he would smile and promise that yes, he would; you all had better check the codicils to see about that!
But most important, both of these men believed in their children – two sons for my dad, two daughters for Velton; they believed in us and loved us to the end. My dad and your dad, Nicole and Bridgette, very similar, I suspect. So maybe then what I experienced when my father passed away will be what you too will experience; maybe what I discovered those twenty-one years ago will be close to what you are finding now.
If so, my friends, there’s bad news and there’s good news. The bad news is that it will take you a while to grow through your dad’s departure; a man like Velton sows seeds of feeling down so deep, so far, that we do not easily let go. It took me a good five years to grieve completely through my dad’s death. That’s the bad news. But there is good news. The good news is that a man like Velton sows his seeds of wisdom and faith and insight so deep, so far, that we do not forget them. We value them, we trust them, we live by them. If I am anything at all today I owe a major part of it to a man who read my child’s heart and healed it, who listened to my youthful half-baked opinions and guided them, and who, I know, prayed for me and for my brother every day of his life. I am a part of all that I have met, and so are you; and that is good news indeed. Velton Edmonds has sown the seeds of his spirit deep within you, and as the years go by, your continuing grief notwithstanding, you are going to harvest much from what he has sown.
The Letter of James suggests something of what this harvest will be like. “A harvest of righteousness is sown in peace for those who make peace.” A harvest of righteousness, sown in peace. How did Velton do that? James will instruct us.
I
James says, first, “Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom.” Demonstrate that what you do is done with gentleness and with wisdom, blended together.
The last position of leadership Velton Edmonds held within the life of this church was that of Chairman of the Music Committee. As such, he was responsible for meeting the needs of our music staff and for advancing our church’s worship life through music. Now I don’t know how many of you are aware of this, but in many churches the music department is also the war department! There is something about church music that brings out the emotional side in us, and we are not hesitant about expressing vigorously held opinions. Since I am no longer pastor here, I don’t have to be polite, do I? I can just go ahead and say it: our musicians have strong opinions and voice them forcefully; no, wait, I’d better broaden that – our Music Committee members have strong opinions and voice them forcefully; no, that’s still not it – our congregation members have strong opinions about music and voice them very forcefully, and usually to the Chairman of the Music Committee. Velton walked into a situation that was volatile and threatened at any moment to create a stir in this church.
But I noticed something very significant in those Music Committee meetings. I noticed that Velton never raised his voice, never tried to outshout the shouters. His head would rotate as if he were watching a tennis match, as one side sent up volleys against the other – but then suddenly, at last, he would hear from somebody a positive word. Somebody would finally offer a solid idea instead of a complaint. When he heard that scrap of sound counsel, however small it might be, he would interrupt the shouts with a suggestion, he would seize on whatever was authentic, and would press forward with that. He gained our respect because, in the midst of all the tension, he looked for both the way of gentleness and wisdom together.
What a gift that was to this church! A man who could, in the words of James, do his work “with gentleness born of wisdom.” That is where he began to sow in peace a harvest of righteousness for you. Heart and mind worked together, gentleness and wisdom.
II
But then James goes on to tell us the flip side of that truth. The opposite of what being gentle born of wisdom is to give yourself over to ambition and to pride. The opposite of being gentle and wise is to descend into disorder and chaos. If you have not chosen to sow in peace, then you have chosen to sow discord and envy. I cannot possibly improve on how James puts it: “But if you have bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not be boastful and false to the truth. ... For where there is envy and selfish ambition, there will be disorder and wickedness of every kind.”
Velton Edmonds was a man of order. Some might call it predictability and think it boring. I call it orderly and think it genuine. Every Sunday that he was here, he sat right over here, on the aisle about eight rows back. A man of order. He was trusted within his family to care for the property of older and declining members. A man of order. I wish I could have looked over his shoulder when he was driving a school bus, normally a rolling yellow den of disorder! But Velton loved doing it, he loved the children, and brought order even to school bus driving. Velton had his priorities, and in him was not an ounce of envy or selfish ambition.
My earliest memory of Velton is of visiting him years ago when he was a patient at Washington Hospital Center, having lung surgery. I had not been particularly close, and so it came as something of a surprise that there in that hospital room, where breathing came hard, he began to share with me some of his disappointments. He wished he had not smoked so much in younger days, knowing that now he was paying the price for that habit. He spoke of some tensions in his family life. But on that day, fraught with pain and danger, he spoke not one word of blame, he offered not one whisper of criticism, he pointed no accusing fingers at anyone. Velton knew that blaming others for our difficulties is not productive, nor is it usually even the truth. Velton had learned that bitter envy and selfish ambition will yield only disorder. But Velton also knew that day, praise God, that if we are careful to confess our sins and shortcomings, then our God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.
Oh, I wonder if you know this great truth? Have you received this key idea? That our God can give us order in place of disorder; that our Lord can give us wholeness in place of brokenness, health in place of sickness, life in place of death? Do you know this? Velton Edmonds knew it, embraced it, received it. And so in his heart he blamed no one, not even himself, for the difficult moments. He rested himself in the grace of God and received God’s peace, peace not as the world gives, but peace as only Christ can give.
Sown in peace, a harvest of righteousness. Are you beginning to see how deep, how down deep, is planted this seed of peace for you? Are you seeing how great is the harvest prepared for you?
III
James wraps up his paean to peace with a rhapsody of ideas. His words appeal to us across twenty centuries: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.” This sweeping statement leads me to spell out your legacy, your harvest of righteousness. May I just use Velton’s name to do so? Edmonds family, good friends, members of the Takoma Park congregation, this is what you will harvest, as you remember Velton Edmonds:
V – his veracity; his dedication to the truth, spoken in love and tenderness: veracity.
E – his earnestness; his ability to push through all the noise to the heart of things, and see to it that something positive was done: earnestness.
L – his learning; not that he was a scholar in the formal sense, but a man who loved to learn, who wanted to experience the full range of God’s world, who sought in others wisdom and insight: learning.
V, E, L, and T – his tenacity; his embrace of those things that matter – respect, reverence, hope, faith. Nothing, whether illness or argument, whether boisterous school children or this final struggle, could shake his hold on the things that endure: tenacity.
And then O – Velton’s openness, his desire to experience God for himself. One day Velton called me and said he just wanted to hear me read some Scripture and pray with him, as his recovery was not going very well. Of course I did that, and offered to visit him, but Velton said, “No, I have enough. All I needed was to hear your voice and a familiar word. I’m all right now.” Openness, openness to God’s love.
V, E, L, T, O – and N. New. New! Velton made new. Velton made noble. Velton nestled in the hands of the Father. Never to be lost. Never to be forsaken. Never to experience pain again. New, entirely new. Velton numbered with the saints in glory.
How rich and how full the harvest you reap, for it was sown in peace by one who chose, wherever he went, to make peace!
I am a part of all that I have met;
... Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things;...
Yes, Lord, for you make all things new.
