On Thursday, we celebrated the life of Charlene Ruth
Beethoven as we proclaimed the hope of resurrection. Char and I first met at
the beginning of our second semester at UVA. I had not yet become a part of
the Wesley Foundation or Wesley Memorial UMC. I was still actively engaged with
conference youth activities. I wanted to go to a retreat on Christian ministry
as a career at Blackstone but didn’t have a ride. Another friend—Mike Campbell
at R-MC in Ashland--put me in touch with Steve Turner, who was getting a ride to
the retreat from Charlene. Steve introduced us and we discovered we were both
in Dan Via’s Intro to the New Testament class. Riding to the retreat and back
was an amazing experience. We sang practically the whole roundtrip. In fact, I
was committed to join the choir at WMUMC before I had ever attended. This led
naturally to being a part of the Wesley Foundation, a significant turning point
in my life.
At the service, one of the three non-clergy to speak in
witness spoke of Char as a “restorer.” She had welcomed him in to the fold of
her sons’ friends which meant for all intents and purposes being welcomed into
her family. He spoke of how she helped mend the crack in his foundation largely
by being herself which meant to embrace people and receive them joyously no
matter what they might have done in life. This is grace in action.
We all know of Char’s eloquence in the pulpit, of the
beautiful weddings she celebrated, of the magnificent and almost unending table
she spread, and so much more. I also know of the depth of her spirit. While
decades-long friends, Char and I also served as pastors to one another. Even
when the miles on I-95 were too tough to travel, we spoke on the phone,
listening to one another, asking the questions that helped lead to discernment,
offering challenges from different perspectives. We heard each other’s grief
and pain. We celebrated together. In gatherings, I often sat at the edge of the
circle—as I often do—observing the breadth of her embrace of everyone. I
watched as I also knew her insecurities and fears which only made the whole of Charlene
more beautiful. She was, and is, a deeply complicated woman with so many rich
textures and tones in the folds of her life. I see in her an intricate
patterned weaving where the yarns are varied in hue and texture. I hear her in a glorious melody enhanced
with haunting harmonies. I look into the pools of her brown eyes and see love.
That love will never leave me. She is a part not only of the
fabric of my life; she is part of the dance of our God who is ever moving in
the give and take of grace—pure concern for the other. We will continue to
dance together.
From dust we have come; to dust we shall return. And in that
dust we are with God with is the very ground of our being.
