Funeral Homily for Alma Schmidt

[Isaiah 35:8-10; Philippians 3:20-4:1; Luke 10:38-42]

Norman and Lois, Eldon and Ann, Carol and Paul, Doris, Beaver, family and friends of Alma Schmidt, 100 years is a very long pilgrimage on this earth, and a very long time to walk the way that Isaiah described in our first reading. The highway, the way of holiness - not because you have to be holy to walk on it, but because walking on it transforms you and makes you holy. It is, after all, the redeemed who walk that road - those whose sins have been forgiven, clothed in the righteousness of Christ, and journeying through this age with hearts and minds already focused on the age that is to come.

Alma’s feet were set on that path when her parents brought her to the font on Oculi, the third Sunday in Lent, 1909. As the pastor led the way to the font, he said: “The Lord bless your going out and your coming from this time forth and forevermore.” Baptism began her life of walking the path of holiness, the path towards home.

It was some 14 years later on Palm Sunday that she was confirmed in the holy faith, and the passage which was read over her as Pr. Hitzemann laid on his hands was from today’s Gospel, the final verse: “But one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the goo portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

To walk on the path of holiness that leads towards the heavenly home is to remember that there is only one thing that is necessary, and it is exactly what Mary of Bethany chose when she forsook all else, and planted herself squarely at the feet of Jesus to listen to Him as He spoke. For the words He speaks are words of everlasting life. They sustain a person on the way and guide safely home.

Do I need to tell you how devoted Alma was to hearing the words of the Lord? And no, I’m not talking about being in church on Sunday. Though any time her health permitted it, that’s where you’d find her. When she moved to the apartment in Staunton, her friend Audrey would usually swing in and pick her up for church. But even more, she was a woman who daily was in the Word of God. It was her discipline, but even more her delight.

Rare was the time I visited her and did not see a Portals of Prayer, or her little book that she got at confirmation, I believe, with a Bible verse and hymn passage for each day. She listened so attentively to her Lord because she knew that she was sinner and that she had no ability to give herself faith - the Holy Spirit had to do that and to keep such faith alive in her through the Word she heard. So she devoted herself with Mary to listening.

The other day, Carol, you mentioned her famous trip to Palestine, rooming with Marcella, and as you know as one who’s been there, that visiting the sites has a way of making the Word all the more vivid for you. Could she ever hear the beatitudes and not think of the view across the Sea of Galilee from the mount? Could she hear of the healing of the blind man in Jericho and not think of that city of palms? It was truly a bright spot for her and yielded memories that she cherished forever.

Her life was hard in many ways - you know that. But she met the hardships with a certain calm that was remarkable. I mentioned before that when I see her in my mind’s eye, I see that tell-tale shrug of hers, so often accompanied by “I don’t know.” She was not a person who thought she had all the answers - there were plenty of things that befuddled her, but she knew she needn’t worry herself about those. There was one thing necessary, and as long as that was attended to, everything would finally sort itself out in the end. But along the way, she did have joy - and though she was very German in not expressing her joy outwardly so much, very reserved, let me tell you: you all were her joy. I can’t even number the times we stood in the hall of that apartment in Staunton and she showed me the pictures - the pictures of you, her children, her grandchildren and their children. Her brother and her sisters at the Sievers reunions. She loved you all and was proud of you. If the one thing necessary was her ultimate joy, she truly joyed in you all too.

And the song of the Church was in her heart as she walked the way home to Zion. It was a song about the gift of the one thing necessary. I think it bothered her that she couldn’t sing anymore like she used to be able to. She’d say it more than once: I just can’t sing anymore. But I sang to her as I gave her communion for the last time and into her went the undying Body and Blood of the Son of God with the promise of eternal life. "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace..." I told you how alert she was for that liturgy and how she prayed all the prayers from heart. And you sang to her the night before her death, “Abide with Me” and others and I sang to her the day of it: “Lord, let at last thine angels come, to Abram’s bosom bear me home that I may die unfearing. And in its narrow chamber keep my body safe in peaceful sleep until Thy reappearing. And then from dead awaken me, that these mine eyes with joy may see, O Son of God, Thy glorious face, my Savior and my fount of grace. Lord Jesus Christ, my prayer attend! My prayer attend! And I will praise thee without end.”

And so at last her eyes closed on this age after 100 years of pilgrimage, but for her the joys were only beginning. She found herself inside of Isaiah 35:10. And the ransomed of the Lord shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. Her voice restored, her memory whole, her joy overflowing, a pilgrim welcomed home at long last. And if a hundred years seems long, it’s a blink of the eye compared to the eternal ages in which she now lives as she waits with all the faithful the joy of the resurrection, when Christ will transform these lowly bodies to be like His glorious body by the power that enables Him to subdue all things to Himself.

One thing’s necessary. Alma chose the good portion, and it has not been taken away from her. Not by sorrow. Not by death. Not by anything. Amen.

Alma Louise Wilhelmina Schmidt, age 100, of Glen Carbon, formerly of Staunton and Worden, died at 12:34 p.m., on Friday, Nov. 6, 2009, at Eden Village Care Center in Glen Carbon.

She was born on March 3, 1909, in Olive Township in Madison County, the daughter of the late Herman and Wilhelmina Schoenemann Sievers.

She married George A. Schmidt on Oct. 10, 1937, at Immanuel Lutheran Church, south of Staunton. He preceded her in death in 1974.

She is survived by two sons: Norman and wife Lois Schmidt of Carlinville, Eldon and wife Ann Schmidt of rural Worden; two daughters, Carol and husband Paul Prange of St. Louis, Mo., and Doris Schmidt of St. Charles, Mo.; a son-in-law: Raymond Coatney of Carlinville; eight grandchildren; 18 great grandchildren; a brother: Herman Sievers of Edwardsville; a sister, Leona Sewing of Mount Olive; and many nieces and nephews.
Along with her parents and husband, she was preceded in death by a daughter: Ruth Coatney in 1998; and two sisters: Esther Sievers and Wilma Henke.

Mrs. Schmidt was a homemaker.

Her memberships include St. Paul's Lutheran Church of Hamel and Ladies Aid of the Church.