+ Melvin Sievers

Wow. This one is so hard to write. A pastor is never supposed to have favorites in a congregation. Never. But, then there was Melvin. How could one help it? He and Lucille, Janice and Dean, such a staunch and strong family. I can say it, but with tears, I absolutely loved that man. 

Where to even begin? The argument with the cow that landed him in the hospital? Him DEFENDING the wretched cow? Parkinson’s had stolen a bit of the old smile from his face, but not from his heart. Him asking: “You still eating just meat?” I had to confess that I wasn’t JUST meat anymore. But still LOTS of meat. He nodded his approval. 

He was in his 90s in that hospital gown that doesn’t make for modesty. He was totally at peace. I wasn’t. I had been there it seems like an eon ago when his sweet mom, Esther, was passing. I remember reading to her the old prayers for the Gebetschatzbuch. I know that when we are approaching death, we tend to “go back,” as it were, to our youth. She grew up with German. Though, not in Gehlenbeck. The first time those three sisters registered to me, Wilma (of course!) informed me: “WE are not Gehlenbeck Sievers; WE are Braunschweig Sievers!” 

I soon learned the difference. The Braunschweigers remained fast friends. Melvin and Lucille went on road trips with motorcycles with Elsie (Sievers) and Ed Ahrens. The now defunct little Braunschweig Church formed them in a robust and sturdy Lutheranism. No nonsense. 

Melvin and Lucille’s daughter, Janice, has been a close friend since we came here. Our kids were the same age roughly. And, well, like her dad, she’s just a hoot. She makes me happy whenever we get the brief moment to catch up.

I remember when she told me her dad wasn’t doing well. Cindi and I were at 54th Street in Edwardsville, grabbing a bit to eat. I hoped to see him again, and was planning on going there the next day. He didn’t make it till the next day. 

My father-in-law, Dave, always insisted on stopping along the last pew to shake hands with Melvin and chat for a bit. He thought the world of him, along with the rest of us. 

I told Janice that when he arrived at last in the Kingdom, I’ll bet Sonny said: “Well, you sure took your sweet time, didn’t you? We’ve been waiting to get up a dart ball game!” 

I could go on and on about that dear man. Just seeing him and Lucille always brought a smile to my face. I  so look forward to being with him again, and not ever having to say goodbye. Pray for us, Melvin, that we stay faithful unto death as you did!

P.S. One more memory. It was shortly after Christmas. The choir was practicing before service. The sun was just rising over the horizon. I glanced out the door of the nave. Across the highway and across the field, an entire herd of deer was running across the field. I lost count of how many. I said to him: “We’re INSIDE ‘The Holly and the Ivy.’” He said: “Yup.” “The rising of the sun, the running of the deer, the playing of the merry organ, sweet singing in the choir.”

+ Dale Jones

Oh, where to even begin? I’ve sung in her ear for years, because the basses sit right behind the altos. Even after the cancer diagnosis, as long as she could muster some energy, she was still climbing the stairs to the balcony and singing. 

Music ran through her soul. And that’s why I think she so delighted in her grandson’s taking to the organ and showing a remarkable aptitude upon it. 

When she wasn’t able to make it to choir anymore, on numberless choir rehearsals, Ann and Kantor called her up and asked if we could sing to her. Her response never varied: “Sure!” Sometimes we sang an old favorite choir piece, but more often than not just hymns. 

She’d probably say: “Just hymns? Did you really say that?” For the hymns carry the whole comfort of the Gospel into the depths of our soul. I pity those who have never been given the chance to love them like Dale did.

She and Doc had the naughty habit of disappearing to Hawaii for several weeks during those unfortunate weeks of February (okay, I might have been a bit jealous). We always counted the days down till their return. But one year that didn’t happen. It was the first diagnosis of trouble. I think she still tried to sing all through that time. It reminded me of the old Shaker hymn:

“My life flows on in endless song above earth’s lamentation. I hear the real, though far off hymn, how can I keep from singing?”

THAT was Dale. She couldn’t keep from singing! 

+ Leroy Renken

I have so many of these to catch up on. I haven’t written much on the blog in ages. Leroy and Bev have just been part of life at St. Paul’s for a long, long time. I remember when we were going through a lean patch as far as finances go, and I was a bit worried about how things would turn out, Leroy was working on something or other there in the basement. He took me aside and told me: “Pastor, don’t you EVER believe that this Church doesn’t have the money to do whatever it needs to do.” That meant so much to me. I stopped worrying (well, sort of), and found out how very right Leroy was! 

The man was nothing if not meticulous. He was a finishing carpenter, you see, and his attention to detail and making sure things were “just so” reflected a core component of his personality. I don’t think he tolerated “good enough” in any part of life! 

These last few years have been tough. His health hasn’t been the greatest, as his earthly tent began to fray. Whenever I served at a liturgy, as he left I’d ask him how he’s doing. His standard reply became “I’m still here.” I knew what he meant. He was still alive, but didn’t feel like he was LIVING as he had always been accustomed to. And then Bev, ever the lady, would give me that heart-breaking smile of hers. It’s the long goodbye. He knew it. She knew it. And I think their beloved children and grandchildren also knew it.

It was Maundy Thursday that Stephanie wrote Cindi, trying to get a message through to Pastor to let him know that Leroy had had a stroke, a bad one, and that they couldn’t do anything to repair its damage. The other pastors on staff were all up front ready to begin the liturgy. I look a message down to Pastor right before the bell rang. I came back up to choir with a heavy heart. We only had two basses, but when the other bass if Pr. Daenzer? I told him I was heading out to the hospital. 

Weird thing: they MOVED SLU hospital since the last time I was there. I marveled at getting a good parking spot and then headed over, only learn that I needed to huff it about two or three blocks. I did so, and after a little wait, was shown back to Leroy’s room. It was a blessing to pray with that dear man the commendation of the dying. As I sang the Nunc Dimittis, I think I heard Bev, Ann, and Stephen joining in. The long goodbye was coming to a close. He made it through till Easter, though, and then as Pastor Ball preached so comfortingly today, he opened his eyes to his risen Lord and began to experience the fulfillment of all God’s promises. 

He was always so proud of his grandkids, but Cole was the one I actually got to know. I usually rib the lad about not carrying his horn with him all the time (he is a GREAT trumpeter). The look on his face today as he left said it all: he loved his grandpa and his grandpa loved him, and there will be a hole in his heart for the rest of his days. 

St. Paul’s carries a bit of that hole too. We’ll remember Leroy, the precise man. Leroy, the quiet man. Leroy, the faithful worshipper who loved his Jesus. Can’t wait to see you again, my friend. Christ is risen!

+ Lois Sander

I sure never thought my next post on this blog would be this one. Rest eternal grant her, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon her!

When my inlaws moved to town, she and Marvin, Marilyn and Gary, befriended them and played cards and dominoes with them. Eventually, it was only Lois and Dave left of that crew. They became very fast friends. They both had children in Maryland, so they made the trip together a few times.

Lois was the 3-4 grade teacher at our parish school when I arrived here in 1992. She would not retire before she had taught all my children. I remember being a little worried about my son’s distractedness. She told me “There’s nothing wrong with that boy. He’ll be fine.” She said that they would be talking about something in class, and she could see that she had lost him. Finally, his hand would shoot up and he’d ask about something they had covered 20 minutes prior. The class would collectively groan, but she said he’d required time to think about it. She was right. He was fine. 

She was thrilled, I think, that Lauren followed her into the teaching vocation. And when Bekah and Andy adopted Kloe and Emmett, she couldn’t have been more thrilled. She attended their Baptisms and commented to me all the time on Kloe in particular: what a wonderful young lady she had become.

She was like a grandma to all my children’s children. She came to nearly every single family event. And during the horrible days of COVID, she was in our pod. She, Dave, Cindi and I played more games of Liverpool than any of us (except Dave) wanted! Lois always hated hand number four, where she frequently got clobbered. And she didn’t like it when the jokers didn’t come her way! Most Sundays we had brunch at the house, she joined us.

She worked nonstop at our parish. Confirmation banners? That was her specialty. Dinners for funerals? She always had something cooked and helped with serving. Sewing up LWML quilts? I think she’s still got a ton of material in her house. Oh, it never stopped. She seemed to have a PLACE there at St. Paul’s and it’s going to be really wretched to be there without her. 

I’ll not forget, either, the horrid day her niece, Rachel, died giving birth. She and Marvin were just leaving when Pr. Burdick called and I had to run out and break that unthinkable news to them. We prayed together and wept together that day. 

She was so proud of her two boys, and she had every right to be. They both flew into town and spent all her final hours with her. She was blessed not only in David and Jonathan, but in Maggie and Sanna, and the very joy of her life, her grandchildren: Charles, Anya, and Eric. She was proud of Charles sticking up for Lutheranism at his Catholic High School, and then when he went to Notre Dame, she wore a shirt with their logo and made it up for some of the games. She could tell you all about Anya’s not taking nonsense from anyone in soccer, and about Eric’s brilliant and inquisitive mind. All three of the grandchildren inherited MORE than their fair share of smarts from their ridiculously talented parents, and she was so, so proud of them. And she delighted in the way her boys constantly teased each other: Jonathan sending David pictures of snakes and David sending Jonathan pictures of spiders. And how many times did she quote her mother-in-law to us? “I’m just sitting here so you all can have a game.” 

Lois, you will be sorely missed. You were such a good friend to us all. I can’t wait to see you again!

I got to talk about Lutheran Advent Music…

…with journalist Terry Mattingly. Here’s the article he wrote: The Need for Advent Music Playlists

Scenes from a Winter’s Day

Well, you know…

…it only took, what?, six years for me to finally figure out that having ethernet in my study would be a good thing. Got it done today, thank you Madisontelco. Cindi and I love to sit in here in the evenings, and it is such a delightful work space: small and cozy, but quite peaceful. And I just love writing at the table that sat on my grandmother’s back porch and where we shared many a meal as a family. 

P.S. YES, the rug is off center due to the electric fireplace. And YES it bothers me every single day. 

Thanksgiving Feast (for Jaime)

Dear Northern Brother, this is the menu this year:

Pre-feast

Deviled eggs (half plain, half topped with smoked salmon)

Various cheeses and cheese balls and crackers

Feast

The usual turkey smoked on grill

Gravy (both regular and also a carnivore version)

Rope sausages

Twice baked mashed potatoes

Sautéed mushrooms and bacon (in a wine reduction)

Broccoli casserole

Sweet tater casserole

Cranberries

Homemade light rolls

After-feast

Pumpkin pie

Apple pie

Chocolate pie

Dark Chocolates 

Pecan pie

Beverages

Whiskey, Wines, Water, Coffee served with various liqueur options, and Kid’s “wines”

This year, we should be serving 20 or so. 

Homily for the Last Sunday of the Church Year 2025

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

People loved by God, did you notice the tension between the Gospel reading and the hymn we just sang by Pastor Philip Nicolai, and on which Bach wrote that marvelous cantata with the joyous duet we also just heard (and also the prelude)? You see, there’s an edge to the Gospel reading. A warning implicit in it. You hear it and begin to wonder: am I like the wise or the foolish virgins?  Do I have oil for my lamp? What is the oil? Will I be ready when the Bridegroom shows up? But then you sang a hymn which simply assumed that you are NOT among the foolish, but the wise. It tells you to get ready to meet your Bridegroom with the joy and confidence. He will welcome you and usher you right into the wedding feast that has no end. “We enter all the wedding hall to eat the Supper at thy call” and “Therefore will we eternally sing hymns of praise and joy to thee.”

I’d like to ponder that tension with you by way of a quote that I encountered on X (that’s the old Twitter). I’ve come to know and treasure posts my friend Sarah makes. She lives out on the east coast. She wasn’t raised Lutheran, but came to our Church as an adult. She wrote this a while back: “The thing I love so much about being Lutheran is that I literally just live my life, trying to love my neighbor as much as possible, and I don’t ever even contemplate my salvation. Like it’s not even a question whether I will go to Heaven. Not because I’m an antinomian- but because I know losing Heaven would only happen if I intentionally chose to lose heaven. There is no accidental way I will end up losing my salvation, and that’s pretty nice.” 

I smiled a big one when I read her words. They provoked a lot of people online who just didn’t like her confidence and tried to suggest that it was sinful presumption. But she wasn’t buying that. She knew it wasn’t presumption at all to simply trust the promises of salvation God makes in His Word: “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1. Or again, as St. Paul so recklessly assured the Thessalonians in today’s epistle: “God has not destined us for wrath, but to obtain salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ.” 1 Thes. 5:9

So there’s the key to the whole puzzle: “through our Lord Jesus Christ.” It was in confidence in Jesus and His sacrifice upon Golgotha and the perfect righteousness He delivers in Baptism, that Pastor Nicolai wrote his two great hymns “Wake, Awake” and “O Morning Star.” He wanted to sing the assurance of God’s salvation right down into the hearts of his members. And he wanted them to sing that joy into each other in the face of the most horrific death and sorrow. They didn’t have to fear if they were wise or foolish, provided only, as Sarah said, they don’t “intentionally chose to lose heaven.” Provided only you place yourself intentionally where the oil flows, God takes care of keeping you in repentance and faith and bringing you home to the Feast that never ends. 

So notice that the two groups of virgins were alike in every point (including falling asleep) except for carrying the extra oil. If you ask what the oil means in Jesus’ parable, an old Lutheran study bible answers simply: “the oil is the gift of the Holy Spirit, who through Word and Sacrament kindles faith, love, and all good, preparing the heart for joyful service.” (Weimarische Bibel-Werk). I love that. You see, being a Lutheran Christian is as simple and joyous as this: YOU plant yourself where the oil flows. You live at the receiving end of the Word and the Sacraments, and then you can trust that God will do everything to finish the good work He’s begun in you.

He uses the preaching of His Law to keep you humble, so that you know you have zero righteousness that avails before Him. As Isaiah said so graphically, your righteousnesses are like a filthy menstrual rag. Your righteousness, not your sin. The best you can do, not the worst. The Law will never let you believe that you can stand before God on the basis of your good actions. It crushes that pride in you all the time. As James said: “For the person who keeps all of the laws except one is as guilty as a person who has broken all of God’s laws.” James 2:10 NLT The Law humbles us all by showing that we all stand condemned. BUT God also uses the preaching of His Gospel to fill you with joy! For it hands you JESUS as the One who has perfectly fulfilled every demand of God’s holy Law for you and who has fully paid for all of your sin upon His cross, and who gives you in His Sacraments His own righteousness. The preaching of Law and Gospel and the gifts of Baptism, Absolution, the Eucharist: THESE are the means by which the Holy Spirit is continually poured out upon you, and through them He will do His work. He will make you ready for that great Day of the Savior’s appearing by keeping you in saving faith. You just live where the oil flows, where the Holy Spirit is given, and He’ll take care of the rest.

And that means that you can sing “My beloved is mine and I am His, and heaven is where you are certainly headed.” The great joy of the wedding feast is that you have a Bridegroom who is exceedingly rich. He became one with us and died in order to bear our poverty and our wretchedness and sin, He now LIVES that you might become one with Him and share in all the riches and treasures of His grace. That’s what He reaches you today at His banqueting table, His Holy Altar. 

So do not be afraid, people loved by God! Keep on hearing Jesus’ Word and receiving all that He wants to give you in His means of grace, and you will have oil enough and to spare. But DO fear wandering from His Word and His Sacraments, because not one of us can sustain faith on our own. Faith can only be received, not possessed, and the means of receiving that faith is simply the faithful use of the means of grace. 

Yes, my friend Sarah nailed this one. The joy of being a Lutheran Christian is that you don’t need to worry about going to heaven. He’s covered that fully and completely. You just need to make sure you always give a listen to His Words both of Law and Gospel, and that you joyfully receive all that He gives you. And then it’s His job to get you home. And He will. 

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Gary Dean Steinmann Funeral Homily

Robin, Jay, Rebecca, Dustin and Whitaker; Kirk and Dan, family and friends of Gary Steinmann, today is November 22. Thus it was 65 years and 9 days ago that Carl and Betty walked through those doors and carried their little one to old Pastor Deichmann who standing at that font. Though he was so little and his life stretched forth before him bright with promise, they knew even then that this day would certainly come. They just didn’t know when. So they were determined to do what Lutheran Christians have always done: to pick up their baby and hand him over to Jesus, so that Jesus could forgive all his sins and fill him with a life so strong and powerful that death itself could not take it away from him. 

And for the same reason they made sure he attended St. Paul school where the Words and promises of God were pressed into his heart and mind, and even after many years, he still valued and loved all he learned from his teachers there, including Mrs. Judy Steinmann. And then when he was 14, he himself stood before this very altar before Pr. Waldemar Hischke and spoke for himself the promises his parents made for him at his Baptism years before, and then with the laying on of hands, Pastor spoke over him the words of Matthew 5:5 (ESV) “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” The meek are not wimpy. They are strong. They know that their heavenly Father has an outsized inheritance for them, and they are content to wait for it. 

 As Gary grew, it became evident that he was a most precise, neat and tidy man. I suppose in some ways that was rather a combo of both Carl and Betty. I remember Carl fussing over that picture over there until the hoofs on the sheep were just so; and of course Betty was our decorator in chief for the Sausage Supper for years beyond count. He didn’t like things messed up or out of order, and I suppose that inevitably led him into the medical profession. He knew, of course, that he was facing down an enemy that he could not finally win against, but I think something deep down inside of him raged against the disorder and pain and distress that sickness and death invariably bring in their wake. 

I will never forget when I rushed to the hospital after hearing that our dear Marianne Altevogt was in a bad way. She’d been having the most awful time, and Gary and the medical team had valiantly worked to save her life, but I knew when I turned the corridor and saw him leaning against the counter with a vacant look on his face, that they had lost this battle. It occurred to me as I rushed on to comfort Delmar that Gary looked like HE needed some comforting too. The mess of sickness and death. He fought it tooth and nail even knowing it was finally a losing battle. 

And it was in his battles for so many patients, that he found an ally and companion in you, Robin. You spoke your vows before this altar. And you and your children brought the joyful mess of another kind into his life. I’m a dad. Ask me how I know! And yet it was a joy he would not have traded for all the world. He truly landed on his feet with a ready made family and how he loved you all!

He was actually my PA for a short time, right before he retired. I got to experience his skillful compassion and care, and because I was his pastor as well as his patient, we got to talk a bit about life’s heartaches and trials.  And I could go on about him: about his love of flying; of playing the guitar; of fixing machines that were broken; of snowmobiling up north. Having a blast with life. But I think he’d be yelling at me at this point and saying: don’t forget to tell them about what really matters.

And that would be this: despite his love of perfection, Gary was NOT a perfect human being and he knew that. Whenever he gathered with the saints to worship in this room, he spoke the truth when he called himself a poor, miserable, sinner who had deserved God’s temporal and eternal punishment. He knew that truth about himself in the deep way that only a true perfectionist CAN. 

But he also knew a deeper and more profound truth: that despite his sin, he was loved and had a Redeemer, whose blood had answered for his every failing. If HE had failed to be perfect, Jesus had NOT and that Jesus had given that perfect righteousness to him right there in that font. Gary knew he would never be able to pass muster before God based on his own perfection. He clung for dear life to the perfection of Another, of His Savior. And that Savior promised him life everlasting as a free and undeserved gift.

So when I brought the Sacrament to Gary shortly before he died, I reminded him of why his parents had handed him over to Jesus when he was not even a month old. They knew who had eternal life and who didn’t. By the time I saw Gary, to use St. Paul’s analogy, his tent was wearing out. He had become skin and bones (even worse than when the tree fell on him) and he knew that the time for “putting off” his earthly tent was fast approaching. He made his confession again and then received the medicine of immortality. He received it with the promise of Jesus that whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, will never perish, and sweetest of all: and I will raise him up on the last day. Raise him up to receive that inheritance of the new heavens and new earth that Pastor Hischke had spoken of to him on the day of his confirmation.

I don’t think I’ve ever known such a long time to pass between a death and burial and interment. But it serves as a good reminder that while Gary’s spirit has been commended into the hands of the heavenly Father, he’s in the waiting room we call heaven. You see, what God has in store for him (for you and me too) isn’t DONE when we die, nor when we go to heaven. There’s more. And that’s what Gary’s waiting for now with all the forgiven sinners who are gathered together in the presence of the Lamb. They are waiting for the day when the One who was nailed to the cross, pouring out His blood to cover the sin of the world; when the One who was put into a tomb to sanctify our graves; when the One who was raised in a body incorruptible on that first Easter morning; when the One who has ascended into heaven and sits at His Father’s right hand…they’re waiting for the day when HE appears again in glory. For then it will all be done. Perfection at last.

Gary’s body raised in the same incorruption as Jesus’ own and united again with his soul: so that the full person is wholly healed, wholly restored. It’s no pipe dream. Gary knew that. He knew the One who had already passed that way and who promised him that “because I live, you will live too.” A body and soul finally made perfect, forever beyond the grip of the grave. He’s still waiting for that day with Carl and Betty, with all the saints, so that “what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.” And we wait for it too, and as we wait we pray: “Though my flesh awaits its raising still my soul continues praising. I am baptized into Christ. I’m a child of paradise.” Amen.

A Reminder!

If you haven’t ordered your copy yet of I Remember: A Life of Mary, it might be just the Christmas gift you need for children or grandchildren. Here’s the link: I Remember. Kelly Klages’ artwork is what will make this book one of their favorites!

A Perennial Irritation

I refer to the Collect of the Day for Trinity 14. In TLH this ran: 

Keep, we beseech Thee, O Lord, Thy Church with Thy perpetual mercy; and because the frailty of man without Thee cannot but fall, keep us ever by Thy help from all things hurtful and lead us to all things profitable to our salvation; through Jesus Christ…

But in LSB we have:

O Lord, keep Your Church with Your perpetual mercy; and because of our frailty we cannot but fall, keep us ever by Your help from all things hurtful and lead us to all things profitable to our salvation; through Jesus Christ…

I am not griping about the updated language, but about that clause after the first semicolon. It would work, I suppose, if we eliminated the “of” and read it “and because our frailty cannot but fall” or if you put back in “the frailty of man without You”, or even just went with a more literal rendering of the old Latin: “because it cannot continue in safety without you.” But as the prayer stands in LSB the sentence always strikes me as wrong (not theologically, but linguistically). 

Has anyone else noticed how off that collect sounds?

On Charlie

I had just finished writing an article for our Issues Etc. Journal yesterday when I checked in on X only to read what seemed about a thousand Kyrie eleisons arising and filling my news feed. Something horrible had happened, I knew, but it took a while to find out. At first it was just the horrific news of Charlie being shot, but then came word that he had succumbed to his wounds. That joyous, bright, vivacious man—probably the foremost witness to Jesus Christ in the public square—had been plowed down by an assassin’s bullet. I spent the afternoon doom scrolling with the rest of you, and praying for him, for his wife, for his poor children, and for this nation.

How could this happen? During the past few years, I’d come to treasure the man’s posts and his fearless and friendly debates. He never regarded the person in front of him, vigorously disagreeing with him and even calling names, as an enemy, but as a friend to be persuaded and won. I confess myself a great fan of the current VP, J.D. He’s an incredibly gifted man and a great debater, but Charlie was in another league. I mean, hands down. J.D. sometimes stays on too intellectual a field for some to follow, but Charlie had the gift. He could speak to us all. And he used that gift to speak to the youth across this nation who have been swindled by the demonic into self mutilation and bitterness and hatred of their own family. He spoke to them with a charisma and genuine friendliness that they simply did not know what to do with. He walked the way of our Master, and he walked it to the end. My brother said to me this morning what so many of us thought: we expected him one day to be the President of these United States.

He could speak hard and devastating truth, but never in scorn and hatred. It came from a heart that was filled with the love of Christ. If you never heard him speak or debate, youtube has TONS of his efforts posted. Please, go listen to this voice of goodness (yes, I dare to call it that) that has been silenced. If all you know of him is the hatred spewed his way by the left, you don’t know the man at all. Still, as so many folks have insisted on X and in other forums, Charlie’s voice will NOT be silenced. We will not allow it. His message has only grown stronger and I believe will grow stronger yet. 

Indeed, as the Federalist published, Charlie is not merely a political victim; he is a martyr. His witness for Jesus over the past few years has been a thing of beauty to behold. He cared so much about his nation because he knew that this nation is not the ultimate; the ultimate is the Kingdom of Jesus Christ, and he wanted to serve the One who had laid down His life for him even in these penultimate things. And he wanted everyone to enjoy that Kingdom with him. He’s there now, awaiting the day of the Resurrection. 

Rest eternal grant him, O Lord, and let light perpetual shine upon him!