We gather this day to give thanks to God for the good news of the gospel, the gift of life, the promise of resurrection, and the hope that endures the grave. We gather in particular thanksgiving for the life and witness of Julia Payne Cox Goslin: servant, missionary, wife, mother, grandmother, teacher, athlete, citizen of the world, hostess to the nations, and expert rider of boogie boards.

Not unlike people in Isaiah’s vision of God’s coming kingdom, this congregation has gathered from east and west, from north and south, to sit at table, to remember, and to give thanks.

What a remarkable assembly! It is a rare thing for this many Goslins to be on the ground at the same time, much less in the same room at the same time. What a change from the days when all six of the Goslin children could be seen on the same pew in the Doylestown Presbyterian Church, Doylestown, Pennsylvania, attending to their father’s sermon – or at least sitting in the clear view of the congregation.

Tom recounted to me the Sunday morning ritual in those days in Doylestown – after life in Argentina and before life in Spain. Tom would go to the church early, leaving Julia with six children to feed, dress, and march to Sunday School. Julia would get the youngest to the nursery (that would be David), and the others to Sunday School before getting to her own Sunday School class (which she taught, of course). At eleven o’clock worship there those same children would be (all but David, I suppose). Five (Count them, five) children, all lined up on the pew for the congregation to count.

One woman new to the congregation, having witnessed this ritual several times, finally told the sitter in the nursery, "I feel so sorry for that poor woman. She’s here every Sunday, brings those six precious children, gets them to Sunday School, and sits them on the front pew in worship every Sunday, and not a hint of a husband in sight."

Well, in fact, that poor woman did have a husband, and the two of them, by all accounts, had an amazing ministry together, spanning three continents and five decades. In addition to raising her own children and serving as Bible teacher and mission worker in her own rite, Julia seems to have raised other people’s children as well, all the while serving as hostess to untold travelers, missionaries, diplomats, and, no doubt, entertaining angels unawares. Several people have written to say that Julia was "like a second mother" to them – some when they were four or five, some when they were graduate students.

Last night, while chatting with the family at Cay and Mark’s home, I remarked that that was quite a crowd to entertain. "What, this? There’s only 25 or 30 people here tonight. Julia used to entertain crowds like this without a second thought."

One friend, echoing a familiar refrain, described Julia as intelligent, worldly, sophisticated, clever, accomplished -- and yet the most thoroughly modest person she has ever known. Julia, no doubt, would be scandalized to hear such talk, but an entire cloud of witnesses can’t all be wrong.

I wish I had know the Julia many of you remember. By the time she and Tom arrived in Tallahassee, Alzheimer’s Disease had already obscured many traces of that Julia. But not all. Her granddaughter-in-law Holly Hohmeister recounted a visit Julia made not so long ago to Matt and Holly’s home for dinner. Before leaving, Julia took a paper towel, folded it carefully, and gave it to her young hostess. "You’ll be needing this," she said.

Some things are in the DNA, the last to be forgotten.

Of all the memories in this room this morning, the most important thing to remember is the promise of the gospel. One day, in God’s good time, every ruler and every authority and power that seeks to rob us of life will be defeated. The body dies. The capacity for memory dies. Sometimes memory dies before the body, but the promise of the gospel remains: "In Christ shall all be made alive."

We live finite and perishable lives, but one day "this perishable body must put on imperishability and this mortal body must put on immortality."

Then death will be swallowed up in victory,
         Death will have no sting.
         Past and present will be united,
         and every tear will be wiped from every eye.

This sure promise, says the Apostle Paul, gives us reason to "be steadfast, immovable, excelling in the work of the Lord," and to "rejoice in the Lord always." We know that in the risen Christ our present labor and our future hope are not in vain.

Though we may forget, God remembers. In that good news let us rest and rejoice.

O God,
before whom generations rise and pass away,
we praise you for all your servants
who, having lived this life in faith,
now live eternally with you.

Especially we thank you for your servant Julia,
whose baptism is now complete in death.
We praise you for the gift of her life,
for all in her that was good and kind and faithful,
for the grace you gave her
that kindled in her the love of your dear name,
and enabled her to serve you faithfully.

For the way she lived out her vocation,
as servant in your church,
as wife and partner to Tom,
as mother to Cay, Tom, Bruce, Ian, Ann, and David,
and grandmother to Meredith, Matthew, Lauren, Emily, Monica, Adrian, Julia, Flavia, Elizabeth,
Sarah, Graham, and Catherine.

For her ministry of hospitality that reached across cultures, languages, and denominations.

For her strength of character and her strength of body:
for miles swum, furlongs walked, and sea ripples ridden astride boogie boards.

For the pleasure she took in the company of children.

For the vitality of her faith and the keenness of her intellect,
for modesty that rose from the heart of grace
and trust in your love that triumphed, even as memory faded.

For every gift you gave her by which we came to know your grace, love, justice, welcome, and peace,
we give you thanks, all-loving God.

And now we thank you that for her death is past and pain ended,
and that she has entered the joy you have prepared;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.