Fr David Houghton's Homily at Bishop Michael Houghton's Funeral Mass - December 30th AD1999 |
Our eyes are fixed, not on the things that are seen, but on the
things that are unseen.
We need to take a journey from this place for a moment. (Michael would like us to do that; he was a great 'journeyer')
To a place that hardy any here have seen, but in this unknown and unseen fragment of the world we will be given a key
to Michael the man, Michael's vocations, and to Diana, to Pula and Martha.
E GO TO A PLACE of the sound of flax swaying in the wind, of mina
birds, - no muzak, no TV, - and to the scent of vegetation, of fish and the local bakery and to a place uniquely
self-contained. It was from Bristol that they set sail for the tiny island of St Helena in 1984 as missionaries. St
Helena, the tiniest diocese in the Anglican Communion is place that I suppose arouses a sense of intrigue and also
horror. What can it be like to be 'so cut off?' But that is only our perception, unable to perceive what is in fact,
complete, of a piece, in harmony. This tiny community, visited only a few times a year by the ship, gave Michael, in
his work as parish priest, the extraordinary privilege of seeing the whole of life. He would have seen every child
born, every arrival and departure, every soul on death return to God. A pastoral ministry we can only dream about.
Those years on St Helena, however far away, give us a way on this painful and broken day, to see a completion, cadence
and resolution, in Michael's life. There he saw lives from beginning to end. From those days we will recognise
Michael's gifts as pastor, friend, his constancy, the gift to 'abide', in the words of the 4th Gospel, his
faithfulness.
Michael, and Diana, shared a vocation as teachers and missionaries before those days. He was trained a historian. Who
knows what things unseen affect our lives; the twin forces of USPG and Society of the Sacred Mission sent them as
teachers to another sort of island, the Kingdom of Lesotho to serve at St Agnes Mission in TY. In typical style the
recently married Houghtons prepared by covering the walls of their room at the Selly Oak College with shorthand
pictures for learning Sesotho. We know his insatiable desire to learn and teach, which makes it even more puzzling why
he had never, yet, got excited about the Internet. It is said that for all of us Africa is a place of home. Mankind
finds its earliest roots in the soil of Africa. Here is where we become aware of our own tiny, limited lives and
aspirations and at the same time the great expanse of God in creation in all its glory and awe. I remember setting off
with the priest and Michael (this was before he was ordained) one morning for a mission visit, driving then walking for
hours to a remote hut. We sat on the ground in a tent and prayed, read the scripture, took bread and wine, broke,
blessed and shared in the Holy Communion. In the presence of a few souls whose language I did not know we bound
ourselves into the unity that is God, transcending time, space, culture.
We are no better that pots of earthenware to contain this treasure, this transcendent power is God's alone'.
We are so many here today. But this company is still but a fragment of the men, women and children who knew Michael.
Each of us will have a special part of the precious treasure that comes from the encounter of any human being. For us
his life is ended prematurely. It is incomplete, the hopes still wait. As a man and as Bishop we all wanted more. As
young and chosen for a particular ministry we looked for and found encouragement. So much yet to come. But in my
deepest heart I know that we are called to see his life as complete. God seals his life today. God, through Christ is
accomplishing all he desires in Michael. It is brought to a whole. The power is God's alone. For we are 'never
abandoned, never at our wits end, never hemmed in, never left to die.' We carry death in our bodies so that in this
body life may reveal itself, the life that Jesus lives.
It is we who are broken. So out of our incompletion and sense of loss, can we see today signs of what does come
together, and God reveals as complete in Michael?
He was born a twin with our sister Gillian. I dare not enter into the intimacy of what it means to be a twin, united in
birth, sharing infancy, prams, childhood. (Shakespeare wrote of twins as 'noble, well rounded, with good dispositions
and of good humour.) Of course I know a little as the elder brother, but only a glimpse of that belonging together.
Michael was committed to the family into which he was born. It mattered very much that Gillian was thousands of miles
away when he was taken ill and that she came to be at his bedside and was there at the end. It is wonderful for anyone
to have a brother - a treasure I share with my sister. We talked and argued and were rivals. I respected all he came to
be. And he was my friend.
Michael brought to his own family this sense of 'oneness'. Many of us cannot really think of him without Diana. They
literally created so much together. Every card from a journey written and signed by both, homes littered with the
personalities of both, homes into which Pula and Martha were born. All decisions were made together. The two were made
one. Here we will be silent. Here we do tread on things unseen. Christ speaks to us through this marriage, and we have
received grace if in no other way but hospitality. How many here have sat at the kitchen table drinking tea, simply
being welcomed?
Today is hard because in Christ we know Michael as one who both lived for us and in a very real sense is in us. His
missionary self-giving has been woven into us. His listening, teaching, guidance, counsel. His powerful imagination
that brought a new light to a conversation or a dilemma. His warmth and friendship, those hours talking into the small
hours, his fascination for so many causes, so much loyalty, steadfastness. Michael's priesthood, him as pastor, man of
the eucharist, man of prayer, visitor of countless individuals; as bishop and shepherd of souls, as being alongside
those many under his care and love in this past year. God's grace worked through him to bring healing. Michael gave of
himself and we have all been fed. Far from being incomplete we see and know all the healing, bonding embracing,
touching that is Christ at work in him and still at work in us.
We know also those special characteristics, shall we call them 'eccentricities'? No person is complete without those
parts that are 'just me'. Michael had principles; sometimes we felt unable to take them all onboard. There was a
temptation to think it was all of another age, but in fact Michael was able to bring together what was - for instance,
his love of the BCP - to the now - to be present - and to look forward into the being of God. This was a special gift.
We do live in one and many ages. The task is to bring what is past, what is the now and what shall be to a unity.
Today we see just puzzling reflections, through a glass darkly.
The bread will be broken today. Just as we sat at the home table in Folkestone, St Helena, TY, Wellingborough, Selly
Oak, Bristol, we gather at the altar of the Lord. The Eucharist in which Michael grounded his life tells us that to
live is to give ourselves simply now as we are, trusting that, in the foolishness of God shown on the cross, strength
is communicated from our vulnerability, the Spirit is born in brokenness. God makes his home in the stable, in the open
heart. Because God lives in us, love will continue to illumine the world through us, through each of us. As we commend
Michael to the mystery of the heart of God, as the love of God confirms all that he is and gives him his place in
heaven, can we trust that God will bring a healing, a friendship anew to each of us. Are we not helped this morning to
become a little more fully members of Christ's body as Michael gently taught us?
Be ready for action, with belts fastened and lamps alight.
This is a Gospel for a missionary. We end with a call to the Lord, to recognise that we walk together today, to
recognise that the Lord will surprise us by setting our hearts on fire as people of love. It is the Gospel that endures
and saves. 'Set your mind upon God's kingdom and the rest will come to you'.
And I close with a quotation from a 17th century holy man, from Michael's favourite age:
George Herbert - The Altar
A broken ALTAR, Lord, thy servant rears,
Made of a heart, and cemented with tears:
Whose parts are as thy hand did frame;
No workman's tool hath touched the same.
A HEART alone is such a stone,
As nothing but Thy power doth cut.
Wherefore each part of my hard heart
Meets in this frame to praise thy name.
That if I chance to hold my peace,
These stones to praise thee may not cease.
Oh let thy blessed SACRIFICE be mine,
And sanctify this ALTAR to be thine.
This homily is reproduced here with the kind permission of Fr David Houghton.
