When Tria called to tell me on Wednesday evening that Frederick had finally passed from this life into the next, I sat there for a moment wondering what I could say that would do this remarkable man some sense of justice. Almost instantly the words of a familiar and well-loved hymn, familiar to us at the Cathedral, anyway, came to mind:
He who would valiant be ‘gainst all disaster,
let him in constancy follow the Master.
There’s no discouragement shall make him once relent
his first avowed intent to be a pilgrim. 1
Frederick Reuss was a loving husband, a father, a grandfather, a brother, a brother-in-law, an uncle, a friend, an attorney, but first and foremost he was a Christian pilgrim. He loved his Lord, he loved his Church, and he loved our Anglican version of the Faith. He loved its richness, and it is no mistake, no hasty decision of mine or Tria’s, that you are hearing the traditional words of the Burial Office and the Holy Eucharist celebrated for him and in his remembrance today. He loved the best of the Faith with, as he would say, and we would say together sometimes, “no funny business thrown in.” He liked his religion clean and traditional, which is one of the reasons among many that I valued him as a friend so very much.
Frederick was a Christian pilgrim. He had a remarkable, and I imagine life-long, devotion to the Blessed Sacrament. When he was no longer able to be in church on Sundays or to serve as a Eucharistic Minister, he told me that he had lost an important part of his life, that he missed it terribly. But his complete devotion when receiving the Sacrament, whether in church or at home or in the hospital, meant a great deal to those of us who were privileged to be a part of his spiritual life. I commend that devotion in Frederick to all of us as an example of true faith and true fidelity to our Blessed Lord and to the Blessed Virgin, his Mother. Frederick loved his Lord. He was a true pilgrim.
A not-insignificant-part of his life was the more-than-seven years he served as the Cathedral’s attorney, its Chancellor. He could not have chosen a more challenging and perhaps more turbulent time in the Cathedral’s history to be of service. Perhaps rather than choosing to undertake the work, he was chosen to do the work. It was during those years of financial difficulty, of the closing of the schools, and of the eventual sale of much of the property that Frederick had to make some intensely difficult professional and person decisions, decisions based on his faith, which sometimes strained relationships with others whom he valued and respected. But he always did what he believed was the right thing, and, in the end, he was usually proven right. His course of action, though sometimes the difficult one, was in the end to everyone’s benefit. He was a true pilgrim and servant of his Lord for he did what needed to be done, come what may. I believe that we might call that type of behavior courageous. As Bishop Walker noted, “Frederick saved us, literally saved us, during some of our most difficult days.”
Did I just allude to the fact that Frederick could, at times, be a bit obstinate, unyielding, even, perish the thought, temperamental, sort of like most of the rest of us? Tria will agree with me that he found one special person in his life, one especially devoted and caring person, who got him to do what he needed to do and they never had a cross word about it. Charlene Powell, who sits here today, is a splendid example of Christian love, of caring and devotion, who supported not only Frederick through some difficult years, but who also supported Tria and her family, and allowed Frederick to remain at home among the people and the possessions and his view of the ocean that he loved so much. And so, Charlene, you are – without a doubt in anyone’s mind – not an employee but a marvelous example of what Jesus taught and how he wanted us all to live. Everyone – Frederick, Tria, the family and friends, and me, too – has been made a better person by knowing you. You are a Christian pilgrim.
Tria, you are aware, I know, that Frederick loved you. As you know, he and I had extensive conversations, sometimes lasting longer than was better for either of us because we often imperiled our immortal souls by engaging in ecclesiastical speculation and even gossip. But in every one of those conversations, even if he was upset with the world or the state of the church or with his failing body, he always had a kind word to say about you and how incredibly blessed he was to have you with him not only in his final years but for so much of his life. You need to hear that from me, not because you don’t know it already, but because he said it to me so often. And I have not a doubt in the world that, had circumstances been reversed, he would have been as devoted to you as you were – and remain – to him. It goes without saying that you are a pilgrim and servant of the Lord. We are all the better for knowing you, too, as an example of the devotion, faithfulness, and love which, in our marriage vows, we pledge to our spouses and to Christ our Lord.
It is no small thing that the Bishop of this Diocese, who interrupted his vacation plans and made the determined effort to be here this morning, is with us, so many friends from our Cathedral family, clergy who have been close to Frederick and Tria for many years, and so many other friends have come today in the middle of summer, in the prime of vacation season, to give thanks for Frederick’s life and faith. Friendship in Jesus Christ is no small thing and sometimes it is no easy thing.
We know that it is relatively easy, simple, even enjoyable to live the Christian life when things are going well: when there is ample money in the bank; when our relationships in life, especially with our spouse and our children and extended family, are in good repair; when our careers are going well; when we are surrounded by friends, when we enjoy the gift of good health. But when any one or more of those factors, and perhaps especially our health, begins to deteriorate, our faith can be challenged, even threatened. Perhaps it is at that point, and Frederick faced that issue of deteriorating health and mobility for some years, that we make a decision about whether the pilgrim life is really worth all of that effort. He made the decision that the pilgrim life was worth the effort and he showed it by his example in how faith can redeem painful times.
To be a pilgrim is to strive, all of one’s life, with the understanding that Christians never finally arrive at our destination until we stand in the presence of risen Lord from whom we hope – and pray – to hear the words, “Well done, thou good and faithful servant. Enter thou in the joy of thy master.” In our striving along the sometimes rocky path of faith, as Christians we know that our own efforts, no matter how well intended and how dutifully performed, are insufficient. We depend upon the prayers, love, support, and encouragement of one another.
I told Frederick that I only asked one thing of him when he got to heaven: he had to keep praying for me that I, too, would make it there in time. “Well,” he said, “that won’t be too difficult because I do pray for you every day now. I always pray for my priests.”
Isn’t it wonderful that, in the communion of the saints, in the fellowship of God’s church, we can pray for and with one another each day, those who are still in this life on the pilgrim way, and those who are in God’s presence, who have made it successfully? We pray for each other and though separated by time and space we are never far apart because of our faith in Christ. In God’s own, “in the moment, in the twinkling of an eye”,2 as St. Paul said it, we will be together again.
This part of Frederick’s journey is completed and successfully so. We are still on the way, but we know that he is encouraging us and praying for us and looking for the day, in God’s own time, “in the moment, in the twinkling of an eye”, when we shall be reunited in God’s glory and love.
There is a third verse to that hymn with which I began:
Since, Lord, thou dost defend us with thy Spirit,
we know we at the end shall life inherit.
Then fancies flee away; I’ll fear not what men say,
I’ll labor night and day to be a pilgrim.
We commend our brother Frederick to the keeping of Almighty God, and we give thanks that during our earthly pilgrimage we had time together. And we look to the future with confidence and hope in Jesus Christ our Lord, for “we know we at the end shall life inherit,” just as Frederick has inherited it.
The Ven. Theodore W.Bean, Jr.
Provost
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1 Hymn 564 Hymnal 1982. Words by Percy Dearmer after John Bunyon
2 1 Corinthians 15
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