As we gather for worship this morning both to grieve our loss and to praise and glorify God for gifting us with Walt, we hear powerful words from Holy Scripture. "Comfort, comfort my people." This sentence from one the greatest of the prophets is triply significant for us. First, it is our God who bestows the comfort we seek. Second, it reminds us of the comforts of the Advent season as this phrase echoes in the strains of Handel's "Messiah." And third, it bespeaks the calling to which Walt responded in a variety of ways vocationally. This man's demeanor, his voice, and his presence were a comforting blanket of acceptance, caring, and wisdom. "Comfort, comfort my people."

This entire passage from Isaiah 40 carries images that bring Walt to mind. I know he felt frequently as one whose voice cried in the wilderness, eloquently and gently invoking straighter paths for the Lord, and yet going at least occasionally unheeded. I know that he fervently desired that "the glory of the Lord be revealed." That was certainly among the principal hallmarks of his personal and pastoral character.

And I know that Walt was keenly aware that "all flesh is grass, and all its beauty is like the flower of the field...The grass withers, the flower fades" (as now has Walt's) "but the word of our God will stand for ever." That has always been Walt's conviction—now become his and our assurance—and our confident hope on this day.

I won't do more here than mention the reference to the shepherd at the end of these well-known verses. Walt both offered, by virtue of his ministry, and at the same time accepted thankfully the gracious attention of a shepherd.

The words of Romans were among Walt's most treasured in scripture for occasions such as this. And he made sure that they were included in his beloved Nona's service here less than two years ago. They now assure us that these two servants of God, united so long by marriage in this life, are now reunited, sharing in the eternal, loving presence of their Lord.

The reading from Luke seems appropriate for at least two reasons. The first is the most obvious. Walt was a pastor of discipline and of careful attention to a thoroughly Lutheran understanding of tradition. And so, this selection, which is the gospel designated for tomorrow (the Fourth Sunday of Advent), might please Walt's sense of order. He preached from the set liturgical rotation of biblical texts; and he appreciated the historical currents that produced it.

But perhaps more to the point, this portion of Luke's nativity narrative yields the timely and contextual insights that Walt would have expected—even in the midst of what some people might consider an overly-confining liturgical practice.

Doesn't even Mary's hymn of praise seem eerily relevant for us? Now.

"My soul magnifies the Lord." Perhaps not ours at this particular moment, although some of us may already be prepared for praise. But certainly Walt's. Can we not imagine a re-invigorated Walt standing in the presence of his Lord proclaiming with the praise he so often exhorted from others, "My soul magnifies the Lord." It is an image that warms at least my heart on an otherwise rather sad day.

And aren't Mary's words reminiscent of Walt's passions for family, for people, and for ministry. They are humble in a simple way—"God has regarded my low estate.". They give glory alone to God—"God, who is mighty, has done great things for me, and holy is his name." They give witness to a mission that shakes the foundations of this world's values and moves them seismically in new directions—"God has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts...put down the mighty...exalted those of low degree...filled the hungry with good things."

It is a manifesto for the mission that drives the Church's soul and that drove Walt's love and mercy for all persons in the rich diversity of God's wide imagination and expansive embrace. Whether it be an early and forthright identification of radical inclusion and hospitality as touchstones of Christian community—witness the transformation of St. Thomas into a Reconciling in Christ congregation. Or whether it be a disposition of heart towards engagement with people of very different places and kinds—witness our Sister Parish relationship in Guatemala. Or perhaps a multiplicity of vocational practice—ministry among university students, in congregations, and as a synodical director of mission. Pastor Johnson sought intentionally to stand on the more sparsely populated side of things—with God and for God's purposes, will, and future.

Tish discovered this in a booklet that Walt had prepared. It is a musing scribbled in the margin: "I sometimes have the suspicion that God surrounds me most generously with folks whose ways are different from mine for a special purpose...to convince me that if they can be accepted in the kingdom (as odd and as incomplete as they are) there is room of acceptance there for me also."

He held passionately the belief that one person should not be elevated over another. When he received an honor, he knew that it was not deserved; but he graciously accepted it. One such occasion was his being awarded the first "Distinguished Service Award" for ministry as a campus pastor. It provided him and Nona a time of study in Europe. Another was our naming him "Pastor Emeritus;" he later confided in me that it was an honor for which he had permitted himself to hope.

The scriptures before us portray at least three of the biblically-formed fundamentals of Walt's approach to life and ministry—humility, service, and gratitude.

Tish and Lari were their father's joy, and also his comfort in these past months of struggle and decline (along with Addison, of course). They noted Walt's particularly gentle and humble method of delivering the elements of holy communion. His light touch, his look in the eyes, his emphasis that "This is for YOU." The loving way that he blessed the children. These were the actions of a servant humbly offering the sacrament of the forgiveness of sins, for which he and we all are exceedingly grateful.

Despite his manifold blessings of family, mental facility and spiritual insight, as well as varied expressions of faithful church service, Walt would want us—indeed instructed us—not to spend overmuch time or effort on his mortal—and what he would likely term "paltry"—accomplishments. Walt exhorted us to direct all of our energies for praise and glory to the One who alone is worthy.

It is all about praising God, not about standing in the limelight. Here is part of Walt's instruction for this service:

"The 'funeral' service (is to be) a 'memorial' service. I really want this to be a Eucharistic Service-in the spirit of what the Anglicans call "Solemn High Mass." It's important that the rationale be understood. It is not that my life has been special or exemplary in any way so as to deserve a 'fancy funeral'—quite to the contrary: It is because I do not deserve any kind of 'special treatment' that God ought to be supremely praised, in the highest and best way we know at the time of this Service. I/my life has not deserved anything that God has given me—least of all eternal life. Therefore, the Eucharist and what others may perceive as mere 'pomp and circumstance.'"

This puts me in mind of a letter that Kaye found, written by Walt on the occasion of his farewell dinner held by the congregation in December of 1995—only fourteen years ago. It is dated December 19:

Dear & loving Friends —

Nona and I wish you to know our profound gratitude & appreciation for all that was our celebration weekend. The evening program was as generous and warm as it was embarrassing to me! It is, however, a wonderful thing to be so brought to embarrassment!

All who had a hand in the preparations—and all who attended—deserve the heartiest of our thanks. With joy & anticipation we will await the appearance of the stained glass panel...it will surely be a tangible (& beautiful) symbol of the ties we will always have to the People of St. Thomas.

Yours always—in Christ, Walt

Humility, service, and gratitude to God and towards others.

Here is another characteristic passage from Walt's farewell sermon preached several days later:

"The REAL history of St. Thomas church would not be an accounting of its pastors and their presumed achievements, but of the working of the Spirit of God among the many—your prayer life (and that must be first on the list), your thoughtful considering and willingness to being opened, your dedication to ministry and mission through your congregation.

"I have been alternately praised and blamed for a number of congregation accomplishments, among them, for extending the hospitality of Christ's church beyond past norms. I'm willing to accept blame but not praise. The theological term for 'blame' is 'cross'—it cannot and should not be either sought or avoided. The praise, however, belongs to our hospitable God who has accepted and loves even us—"warts and all," as the saying goes.

"And thanks, my thanks, for your responsiveness to an understanding of the gospel that goes beyond the limitations that the dominant culture would place on it."

A ring Walt wore is inscribed "Love one another as I have loved you."

In all of these examples, and in our blessed experience of the man, we come to know one whose entire pastoral energies were concentrated on a single thought. And so may we, both today and in every day that follows, keep more the praise of our eternal God in our hearts and minds than the temporal triumphs and trials of one man. Like scripture, he was the medium and not the message. His life purpose was to point not at but beyond himself to the Lord who makes it all both possible and purposeful, the Lord who alone deserves our offerings of prayer and praise.

Let me close with a "mildly-altered" passage from Isaiah that Walt crafted to close his ministry here.

I recount the gracious deeds of the Lord—the praiseworthy acts of the Lord, because of all that the Lord has done for us, and because of the great favor shown to the people of St. Thomas according to the abundant, steadfast love of the Lord the One who said, "Surely they are my people, children who will not deal falsely."

It was no messenger or angel (or pastor) that saved them; they were redeemed out of the Lord's love and compassion. God lifted them up, carried them through the days of old, will carry them into the brightness of a new time.

In times of distress, in times of great joy, the Lord is our strength and salvation. (ref. Isaiah 63:7-9)

Amen.