My 2nd semester at Bangor Theological Seminary began this week under the following circumstances: a snow day (already) and the loss of The Great "Red" St. Louis, beloved (grand)father, friend, and Maine State Referee for 30+ years. He was something special.
The way I heard the story is as follows: Red and his wife Patti woke up Wednesday morning to find that the largest part of Eastern Maine was shut down. Snow day! Red announced... and perhaps along with the rest of us stole a glance out the window to check and see just how much white stuff had fallen and was still falling. They went back to sleep to catch a bit more rest. Beloved Red, whom I've known for 6+ years never aware of his given name, Lawrence, transitioned from his physical body to his Essence, his Spirit, his Soul, to Union with the Perfect Love and Awareness of our Creator God. We all lost a part of Red St. Louis that morning, and we will miss it greatly.
We sure will miss him. I know I do. Last night, I went to his visiting hours. I stood beside his open casket, willing him to open his eyes wide in his oh-so-special gesture of welcome-- a mixture of genuine surprise and pleasure to see me. I wanted so badly for his normal reaction. Red's natural predisposition was one of Welcome. Everyone was welcome in his presence-- and we felt it. I felt it. There's something about being welcome(d) which gives us a sense of worth, of renewal, of value. A moment with Red made life a little better. A few hours... well, you can imagine. It was so good for the soul.
When I came to Hampden a little over 6 years ago, I arrived in a new school excited for what the year would bring, completely naive to the true challenges of teaching and meeting a new group of friends. Much to my great fortune, there was a bowling league which I joined. Enter Red St. Louis and others like him. Before I knew it, I was calling home and telling my Mom that I felt like I had a little family up here. There were people that were loving and normal and exceptional... and that welcomed me to their group.
I didn't realize until last night that Red St. Louis had meant so very much to me. By virtue of a little bit of common sense and paying attention, I can see he meant so very much to so many of us. I don't have to stretch one bit to say that it is because he ministered to everyone he met. He lived from his very center which was fully of Love, Joy, Laughter, and Acceptance. He embodied what many ministers simply call "The Ministry of Welcome". It is not a fancy name. Why hide something so Special behind a fancy name? Call it what it is, then let is speak for itself.
Maybe that's why I never knew Red's name is Lawrence. Lawrence seems too fancy for the man I/we knew and adored. Red. That's simple. Just call him Red, then let him speak for himself. He sure could do that.
I'm not one to believe that God intervenes in nature to bring about any type of judgment on humans. To me, God didn't bring the earthquakes on Haiti anymore than God prevents some other catastrophe in order to save anyone else. But here's one thing that makes me smile. It's poetic, lovely, and peaceful for me to think about Red passing in his sleep, as the snow gently falls outside, with his gorgeous-in-every-way wife sleeping by his side. And so perhaps in my mind, on this one occasion, I might choose to remember that God brought the snowday so Red and Patti could go back to bed and rest together.
Why? Because that memory makes me feel warm inside, just like Red did. In this way, I honor his life and memory.
Joy, Hope, Love, and Peace... that we all might share--especially with his family at this time, Trish
