Sophie Mathews

To know Christ, grow in Christ, and share Christ's love.

Today we gather to celebrate the journey of a remarkable soul. Sophie Mathews walked the Christian walk with integrity, graciousness, generosity, gratitude and GRIT. As we remember her today and commend her to the eternal care of her creator, we bask for a moment in the brilliant light of the laughter, love, and service that are her legacy.

To say that Sophie was fiercely independent is a mad understatement. In another life, she would have made a prize fighter—a “Million Dollar Baby”. That spirit got her through a rare early cancer and not one but TWO liver transplants. It never left her. So the tiger came out with this last cancer diagnosis. Sophie girded her loins when she read the script it was writing for her end. We all heard her say she was determined NOT to “linger”, NOT be a “burden” on her children or her friends. (We didn’t get to vote, by the way.) She waged war, using her own arsenal of will and spunk. And she called in the heavy artillery: a true Anglo-Catholic, she brought in a company of saints. In the end, she almost got her way—but not really. It was a compromise: she lived longer than she wanted, shorter than we her to. We don’t know why. But I believe that Sophie understood it all in a flash at about 4:30 Monday when she breathed her last--that she ceased to see “through a glass dimly” and had a clear vision that brought her to perfect peace. Otherwise, I fear she would have had some strong words for the Virgin Mary on her arrival in heaven.

“Cancer is the gift of time.” So says my friend Sister Hannah. The gift of time: paradoxical, but true. There is time to savor the company of those we love—to have a blowout 80th birthday celebration, for instance; time to put things in order; time to say and to let others say “goodbye”.

There’s also time to plan your own funeral. That may sound like a gloomy task, but it can be fun. And it was—with Alice and Lesley in the mix. Like most undertakings with the Mathews clan, it was loaded with laughter. It won’t surprise you that Sophie made her wishes known---including a time limit on Mike’s eulogy. Sophie chose the gospel text easily: the Beatitudes, the central message of the Christian faith. In these core teachings, Jesus laid out for his disciples the summary of Jewish wisdom and the focus of Jesus’ own ministry. Although Sophie didn’t say this, the Beatitudes are the perfect text for us today, because they tell the story of Sophie’s life. Let me give a couple of examples.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” There is no loss greater than the loss of one’s own child. The death of Sophie’s second son, Mark, just short of his 21st birthday devastated her. It left a wound that she knew would only be healed with their reunion after her own death. So where was the blessing? Where was the comfort? As Sophie told me, the blessing came in her grief. God met her in the valley and gave her a new call to serve others. In her loss, Sophie gained comfort, as she comforted others and she gained a new sense of purpose for her life.

“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.” Another turning point came for Sophie when she survived her second liver transplant. Many of us might have thanked God and gone about our lives without any further question. Sophie, instead, turned to God and asked: why? Why had God miraculously extended her life? What new purpose, what work did God have in mind for her? The answer came quickly, when someone invited her down to Caritas. Sophie’s life-long ministry of service found a new focus. At Caritas, Sophie was blessed and Sophie was filled.

The first of the Beatitudes is the key to all the rest: “Blessed are the poor in spirit., for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Poverty of spirit is not about material wealth. We are, instead, poor in spirit when we realize our utter dependence on God’s spirit, God’s love, God’s grace. Being poor in spirit means having the proper posture of humility before God.

The Beatitudes are written in the passive voice. The subject is understood. Sophie’s life demonstrates how completely she understood: the subject is God. When we turn to God in our sorrow, when we turn to God in our need, when we turn to God in our hunger and thirst, God meets us. God responds. God comforts us. God blesses us. God fills us to overflowing.

Sophie blessed her family and friends with the time to mourn her loss while she still was here. She comforted us by sharing her utter confidence in God’s provision for her salvation. She looked forward to eternal life with her creator, her redeemer, and all of those whom she loved.

Sophie knew well that heaven is beyond anyone’s imagining. No matter. She enjoyed imagining—as we all do—what heaven would be for her. And Sophie left us with a highly personal image of heaven’s perfection. Sophie confided in me that she never really learned to dance. Since she was self-conscious about stepping on her partner’s feet, she only danced with her late, beloved husband, Les, who didn’t seem to mind. Sophie’s ideal of dance was the scene in the “Sound of Music” in which Baron Von Trapp takes Maria in his arms and they dance to perfection. Her vision of heaven was that Les is waiting, takes her into his arms, and they dance with that same perfection.

I have a little postscript to that. I like to think that in that same moment of clarity on Monday at about 4:30, Sophie realized that she has been dancing with God for decades.