Gospel: St Mark Chapter 8:27-30
At last, today, we can commend David’s soul to the love and mercy of God from whence he came.
For all of us, and especially for David’s family, these last three weeks have been a mixture of shock, incredulity, sadness, repulsion and, most of all, a sense of deep loss. And so, today, as his family, his people, his fellow priests and ministers, we gather to commend David back to God.
In today’s Gospel reading we see Jesus taking his close disciples apart to a place called Ceasarea Philippi just before he goes up to Jerusalem for the last time. Ceasarea Philippi is very north of the region of Galilee and is a luscious, green area – and it was here that Jesus asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"
The disciples gave different answers: some say you are John the Baptist, others Elijah, others one of the prophets – people are still unsure.
"Who do people say that I am?" It is a very natural, human question. It is something that all of us wonder about – other people’s estimate, other people’s reaction to us. And what of Father David: who do people say I am?
You are David: the beloved son of Marlis and brother of Una, Simon and Georgina. You are a loved uncle in a family that looked to you not only for fun but also for wisdom and guidance. It was you, as a boy, who loved to get into the dressing up box in the garden shed – and then, clad in long curtains and a tea cosy on your head, would wander round the garden blessing mower, rake or whatever was at hand. Yes, the young boy who asked his parents from a very early age if it was possible to be a vicar and a mayor at the same time!
"Who do people say that I am?" You are David the priest who has given all that you could to proclaim the gospel and to feed people with the sacraments of God’s Church.
Being ordained a priest does not, of course, obliterate our humanity and we all – in different ways – struggle with our ability to fulfil our vocation. "A priest is called by God" – it is an awesome vocation. David, as with all of us, struggled with questions of identity – "Who do people say that I am?" - but the David I have known is someone who had high ideals of priesthood and has tried hard to answer that call from God faithfully.
"Who do people say that I am?" You are the man David, the priest David, whose life and ministry have revealed a welcoming, open heart that has always sought to seek the lost and give hope and encouragement to the vulnerable. But you are also David the loner, David who loved to get away with your faithful dog, Max, for those long walks round London.
During the last three weeks I have received letters from people in this country and abroad who have been deeply touched by you ministry, people whose lives have been transformed by your ministry. People who - like us – were devastated by your death. On Wednesday I received a letter from someone in France, someone you helped when they were burgled some years ago. The letter summed up what others have said about your ministry here: "He was a good and godly man, and loved everyone. He was very compassionate, helpful, and really turned the parish around."
"Who do people say that I am?" David, you are a man and a priest for whom we and countless others thank God today.
But let’s get back to today’s Gospel reading. After asking, "Who do people say that I am?" Jesus turns to his own disciples, his close friends: "But who do you say that I am?" And, of course, it is St Peter who answers "You are the Messiah." "You are the Christ."
A pivotal moment in the Gospel: Peter’s confession of faith in Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ of God. And in St Matthew’s Gospel Jesus praises Peter for his discernment and faith and says, "You are Peter and on this rock I will build my church." The Church is, indeed, built on this confession of faith. The faith that Christ is Lord of the Church, Lord of the world. The faith that Christ has overcome suffering. The faith that Christ has defeated death. The faith that victory lies in the new life of resurrection for all who turn and follow Jesus.
In his life and priesthood Father David’s belief in the confession of St Peter – "You are the Messiah" – under-girded and provided a foundation for all that he thought, all that he prayed, all that he did and all that he said. Of course there were struggles and uncertainties. Of course there were moments of failure and doubt – just as in all of us. But it is clear to me, through my knowledge of David and the testimonies that have been made to David’s life and ministry, that this deep conviction in Jesus the Christ was David’s ultimate experience, his hope, his yearning, his joy, - and his promise of salvation.
And what is it about this great confession at Ceasarea Philippi that Father David would want us to take out with us from this Eucharist? David would want each of us to leave this church today with the message of St Peter engraven on our own hearts for the rest of our earthly live and pilgrimage. Yes, "You are the Messiah" – in my life.
Father David would want to send us out from here – into the world – full of the Spirit of God, full of memories of David and thankful to God for his life and ministry. We go out as his family, as the congregation of St Andrew’s, as friends from Fulham from the Deanery, the Diocese and beyond. We go out to proclaim – along with David – that Jesus is the Christ, our Lord and our Messiah. That is what Father David would want and expect of us today.
Of course it is difficult. We cannot ignore our sorrow and sadness today: that would be unreal. This funeral reminds us that there is evil in the world: as David found out with quite devastating results. But, in the midst of such evil and suffering, we Christians believe that there is life and hope – and we yearn that the love of God which triumphed in Jesus may strengthen us and abide in our hearts.
I recently came across these words: "Death is but a sharp corner near the beginning of life’s procession down eternity." That corner for David was particularly difficult – severe – shocking. But David is now round the corner and is in God’s loving and caring arms. That procession to eternity – promised by Jesus to his disciples – is now joined and shared by our Father David.
Let light perpetual shine on him: may he rest in peace and rise in glory.
Amen.