Written & delivered by The Reverend Susan Quinn Bryan, Mt. Auburn Presbyterian Church
Ecclesiastes 3: 1-15
Psalm 23
John 14:1-6, 25-27
“Going Home”
I am so glad I got to know Kurt Ostling.
Mostly because I don’t think if I had not met him myself I would not have believed the stories about him. Stories that have become legendary even in his own life time and others that are destined so to do.
Kurt was a conundrum, a paradox, an true original and a piece of work. He was larger than life. And amazingly complex.
So much could be said about Kurt – and most of it would make us all laugh.
Or cry. Such was the enigma of Kurt Ostling.
He lived life to the fullest. For Kurt, life was a party to be savored, and share with others.
We all know that he crammed more into his 58 years than most folks could fit into 85 years. Or 105.
Judy says he ‘front loaded’ his life. He said, “You never know when the bus is coming.” That pretty much covers it. He lived full bore. And it was an amazing life.
He was in Germany with his father when the Berlin
He went to the Master’s Golf tournament at least 4 times. He and his dad played golf in Scotland
He decided to visit every state in the union, and Judy could tell that he began to itch when he had seen 49 of them. She asked, “So – when are you going to Alaska
Like everything else – he loved as big as he lived.
He loved life.
He loved travel.
He loved sports. All sports and everything about sports. He was a sports genius.
I hope you noticed the particularly ‘Kurt’ references in the hymn we just sang that mentions both ‘opening day’ and ‘going home.’ And that, while each sport is not mentioned in the reading from Ecclesiastes – it is implied: there is a season for football, and a season for basketball, a season for baseball and a season for soccer …
He loved words. Cross word games. Writing. He was a gifted writer.
He loved music.
He loved people.
He loved animals, especially dogs. He always had dogs. He was preceded in death by Huffy, Abby and Lil and survived by Lily and Daisy – ‘the girls.’
He loved his family. He missed his dad. Almost as if getting ready to leave, he told his mother he loved her just before he died.
It wasn’t easy for him to say such things in person. He found ‘texting’ those deeply personal emotions to be easier than speaking them. Lauren has saved many of his texts. Often humorous, or encouraging, or teasing – he let those he know he loved them by actions more often than words.
He adored his children and he loved his wife, Judy, – his ‘Schmoop.’
He loved his friends.
He loved the great outdoors and he loved the sun, and the sea.
He loved embarrassing his children – especially when they were teenagers. It doesn’t take much to embarrass a teenager – just having parents is an embarrassment to most teens.
Many parents try to tone things down and stay in the background during those years. But there simply was no ‘toning down’ Kurt. He, of course, was more present, more obnoxious and more embarrassing. He would cover his nose with zinc oxide and sit by the pool in way too tight old shorts when their friends came around to be sure they were embarrassed. And he loved doing that.
Kurt was unassuming, and he never met a stranger. He was as much at ease with a super star or someone down on their luck. He was often amazingly generous. In high school, he picked up a homeless kid and took him home for Thanksgiving dinner.
Kurt was lovable and fun loving. He was a man’s man and as an athlete he was always popular. He absolutely didn’t care what other folks thought of him. But he did care about justice, and he did care how other people were treated.
When people would make homophobic comments – Kurt would set them straight.
Long before that was the politically correct thing to do.
(Kurt was not concerned with being politically correct.)
He was supportive of this church, because of Mount Auburn
Kurt also loved Mount Auburn
One thing he didn’t love was sermons.
Frankly, he wasn’t much for church services at all.
He would tell you he ‘home schooled’ his religion.
He would have preferred a service that was nothing but music.
Almost any kind of music.
He preferred music to sermons and preach-i-fying.
That didn’t keep him from liking me. We had a mutual admiration society. We bonded over Texas Texas
Judy told me that her first real laugh after being totally devastated by the news of Kurt’s death was when she realized that the ‘long-winded preacher from Texas’ would be preaching at his funeral. I’d have the last word – not an easy thing to achieve with Kurt!
Kurt would have laughed, too.
He was irreverent in the best of ways.
There is a history of folks who were irreverent in the church – they were called the ‘interrupters.’ The purpose of the irreverence was meant to get church folks to not take themselves too seriously – but instead, take seriously the things that really matter: like compassion and justice and people in need.
That’s the role Kurt played for me. For the church. He sought to keep us honest.
If Jesus came to give life and give it abundantly: Kurt knew how to live that abundant life with joy. And gratitude. Generosity. And justice.
Judy told me that one thing that impressed her about Kurt was that he made sure the women who were working for him got promotions that reflected their abilities and along with the promotions, pay raises.
He stuck his neck out for women. In a male dominated field.
Beth told me he was the greatest boss to ‘not really work’ for. For Kurt, a job was meant to be enjoyed.
I would tell you – as I once told Kurt – that he was the most amazing Calvinist I knew. He was stunned. But John Calvin said that the reason we are on this planet is to glorify and enjoy God.
Kurt glorified God through his appreciation and love for creation and other human beings. And Kurt enjoyed all the blessings God had given him.
Kurt also had a serious side. He was absolutely devoted to those he loved, especially those given to his care.
His devotion took different forms. When Kurt was told that his son, Erik, would be considered cured of brain cancer after five years, Kurt set out on his own kind of prayer vigil. He ran every day of those five years. Sun, rain, snow, ice. If he couldn’t run too far in the neighborhood, he ran around the pool. But he ran. Every day. For Erik. He prayed with his feet. God heard those prayers.
And Kurt’s gratitude was boundless.
Kurt learned how to be a dad from his own dad. His best friend. He was so sad when he lost his father, and when he told me stories about him, I understood what an amazing relationship they had.
He sought to be that kind of friend to his children. He couldn’t have been prouder of them. He loved them with a passion.
He told Lauren, “I used to have three heroes, Ralph (his father), Erik and Kerry Crone the neurosurgeon that had cared for Erik. Now I have four in this order: #1 is a tie between you (Lauren) and Dr. Crone, #3 Erik, and #4 Ralph. Always remember, every day you go where the rest of us can’t. You are my hero.”
He loved being with his kids. Playing golf with Erik. Traveling with both of them. He would take them out of school to take them on trips, mostly to see a game of some kind. Trips they will never forget.
He took Erik deep sea fishing. There were many trips to a game or to play golf somewhere.
Eight years ago there was a trip to the British Virgin Islands with Kurt and his dad and Lauren.
On a sail boat.
Kurt didn’t actually like to sail. He liked to hang out on a boat. He hired a skipper and a cook.
Kurt always went first class.
He told his kids that if he was in a town and they needed to find him – that they could go to the best hotel or the best restaurant and that’s where they would find him.
When Judy selected the John text with these words: “in my Father’s house are many dwelling places …” I knew Kurt would like the King James translation: “many mansions.”
Kurt would enjoy the idea that heaven is all first class.
Lauren told me that being used to first class makes it harder to live on a resident’s income. She knows she was spoiled. She was taught to enjoy the best things in life. But she also learned to appreciate them – not to take them for granted.
Other kids may have learned ‘Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star,’ ‘Patty Cake,’ or ‘Row, Row, Row Your Boat’ as their first song. Not Kurt’s children. They learned the Michigan Fight Song.
Seemingly laid-back Kurt had a compulsive side, too. He needed order in his life. Shoes had to be at a 45° angle. The handles of mugs were to point northeast. Pants needed to be straight.
He would give his children grades on their housekeeping. They, of course, would make sure that drawers or doors would be ajar to just grate on him. Or so he was convinced.
Lauren asked, “Who am I going to talk to at 4:30 am now? Who am I going to exchange text messages with?”
Erik is going to miss talking to his dad, playing golf with his dad.
And Judy – Judy is going to miss the love of her life.
And all of his friends are going to miss the life force that was Kurt Ostling. The life of the party.
This is the hard part.
To celebrate a life this well lived. To remember someone who was larger than life as Kurt was – we eventually get to the place where we know that his death leaves a huge hole. An empty place that no one else could ever fill.
And it is right to grieve that loss. That huge gapping loss. Because Kurt was a treasure.
Kurt seemed to be preparing to die. He had come to a place of deep peace and closure.
Now we can learn how to live without Kurt from Kurt.
Our gospel text tells us: “Do not let your hearts be troubled. … believe in God … believe also in me.”
The word there, “believe” is not meant to be about adopting a set of doctrines. It is about trust. Just trusting in God, and trusting in Christ.
I believe that Jesus was a lot more like Kurt than he was like most religious leaders in our day. He ate and drank with all kinds of people, was as at home with the folks others thought to be ‘riff raff’ as he was with the leaders of the Temple
Kurt would be laughing his head off if he heard me making this comparison between him and Jesus.
Jesus would be laughing about a lot of the things people have said about him, as well (and I think he’d be ticked off about a lot of it, too.)
I’m not saying Kurt was Jesus.
But I am saying, that Kurt was a child of God, a beloved child of God, whose home schooled faith had a lot to teach us.
In our text today, Jesus reminds us that death is not the end.
That there is more. We don’t know what it is like, what it entails. But we do know that nothing is lost.
The resurrection of the body means simply the resurrection of the very personhood of each being. That what made Kurt so remarkably Kurt – lives on in some way.
And isn’t that good news?
I like to think that Kurt is now with his beloved father – and that what made them both who they were is still in play. That they are hanging out together. And we shall all see them again some day.
I’m thinking heaven just got to be a much more fun place!
Kurt was a gift from God. To his parents, to his children, to his wife, Judy, to his dogs, to his friends. A gift.
We are going to miss him.
But we can cling to our hope in another of God’s gifts: the resurrection of Christ and with it a promised resurrection for Kurt.
We will sing Kurt’s favorite hymn today: When the Roll is Called Up Yonder.
And we will affirm what Kurt believed and what Jesus has taught us and what God has done for us. That yes, when the roll is called up yonder – Kurt will be there. No preach-ifying needed. In one of those many mansions.
Kurt returns to the one who created such an amazing human being – loved him all his days and embraces him now.
The God to which we give thanks for Kurt’s life. The gift Kurt was.
And the hope we have in Christ. The hope that Kurt is going home, and remember – for a baseball fan: going home is good thing! Thanks be to God.
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