Funeral for Frances Carole Bessner
September 7, 2006
 

Busch Funeral Home ~ Parma, Ohio
Pastor Allen V. Harris
Organist James Robinson

Greeting & Opening Prayer

Hymn Abide With Me (vss. 1 & 2)

Eulogy

Solo by Victoria Rosemond, "Ordinary People"
accompanied by Theresa Bumpers

Scripture Matthew 25:31-40

Hymn
Amazing Grace (vss. 1, 3, & 4)

Sermon

Solo Theresa Bumpers

Words Of Remembrance

Hymn
Precious Lord, Take My Hand (all 3 verses)

Closing Prayer


 

Eulogy:
Frances Carole Bessner was born in Cleveland, Ohio on June 22, 1966 to James and Frances Bessner. She is sister to Debra Gallagher, Carole White, and James Bessner. She attended school here in Cleveland, graduating from James Rhodes High School.

She was married and gave birth to four beloved children in that relationship: Frances, Billy, Christopher, and John. During part of this time, she lived in Michigan.

She was married on  June 27, 1998 to Nim Bryant by the Rev. Connie Bradow, and gave birth to four more beloved children: Jessica, Amber, Frankie, and Robert. But she also became a second mother to Nim’s children, including Nim Jr., Carrena, Anita, Melissa, and Ivory.

She is the grandmother of Lexionna, and adopted grandmother to Destiny, Zacori, Claybourne, and Justin. She was friend to many, many people.
Over the years, she worked at many jobs, often through temp agencies. She worked for the Arrow Company, and the job she was most well-known for, at the Hugo Boss Company. Most recently she worked with Robert Jones cleaning businesses.

Frances was baptized on February 25, 2001 by the Rev. William Spangler and became a member of Franklin Circle Christian Church. She was called to be a member of the Diaconate and, just this past June, was elected as the congregation’s Treasurer, a position of which she was extremely proud.
Frances Carole Bessner, Jr. died in an automobile accident on Friday, September 1, 2006 in Cleveland, Ohio and will be laid to rest at Riverside Cemetery on Cleveland’s West Side. She was 40 years old.

Matthew 25:31-40
‘When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, then he will sit on the throne of his glory. All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats, and he will put the sheep at his right hand and the goats at the left. Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”
Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”

Sermon:
I don’t know about you, but I keep expecting Frances to walk through a door and look at us with that grin she had and say, “What’s all the fuss about?” It just doesn’t seem real. I thought maybe yesterday at the visitation and viewing that it would become real, but that wasn’t the Frances I knew, so my heart still expects her to just waltz right in with her big ol’ purse and cell phone going off and plop right down somewhere.

This is the way it is, of course, at many funerals and certainly those for someone who has died a sudden and tragic death. Some deaths we prepare for over days or weeks or even years. Not this one. Some people seem ready for death, either peacefully or nervously, but not Frances. Frances was fully alive. She was not ready for death. Maybe ready for a vacation, a trip to some spa in the mountains, even ready for a night out on the town... but she was not ready for death.

On Tuesday, as I was visiting with Nim and the family, I continued to have the feeling that Frances was going to walk in any minute. As I thought about that, I wondered if, in some mysterious way, Frances was trying to teach us a few lessons before she really left this earthly plain.

 Now, as I told the children in worship this past Sunday at Franklin Circle Christian Church, I do not believe that Frances’ death was something God “planned” or “made happen.” As a matter of fact, I believe this terrible tragedy caught God completely off guard, and that God has all the emotions that we have inside of us: sadness, anger, frustration, confusion. I don’t believe God plans for such horrible things to happen as Frances’ death, but I do believe with all of my heart that God is ready when such things happen to help those of us who remain to find comfort, love, and hope.

In the same way, please don’t hear me in what I am about to say as implying that through Frances’ death, God is somehow trying to “teach us a lesson.” Such a thing is too terrible for the God I know. But I do believe that God plants and places wisdom all around us so that when horrible things happen, we have the opportunity to grow and learn afterwards.

So, I have been looking for something I might learn from Frances’ death.   As I thought about it, three lessons came to me that I’d like to share with you.

The first lesson that Frances’ death might be teaching us is a lesson every unexpected death seeks to teach: don’t put off til tomorrow some loving word, act of forgiveness, or deed of kindness to those near and dear to you. How many times has it been said, either silently or aloud, in the past week, “If I’d only told Frances...,” “Why didn’t I do this or that for Frances before she was gone...,” or the classic, “If I’d only known she would be gone I would have...”

Frances’ death, as well as every single death, reminds us that we all have temporary assignments on this earth. None of us will walk this ground, breath this air, drink this water forever. And rather than spending once ounce of energy regretting what we didn’t say, or do with Frances, let us turn to someone who still is in our lives and offer that word of grace, do that deed of charity, be that presence of love. There is still time, and Frances is reminding us of that.

The second lesson is less general and more specific to Frances. I think Frances would have us learn that every human being around us is a child of God and deserves respect, dignity, and a helping hand when in need. I’ve never known someone more giving – in hands-on tangible ways – than Frances Bessner. She was the epitome of faith-in-action 365 days a year, and almost 24/7 – literally! This is why I chose the scripture I did, since Jesus must have had Frances in mind when he said, “When you do this to the least of these, you did it to me.” Talking to some of you this week, this quality of “caring” came up almost universally, and her mother tells me Frances had this quality from childhood.

And let me push this a little further. Frances gave to people who did not necessarily look like her, act like her, think like her, believe like her, love like her. Frances did what God does: she looked at the heart of the individual and served the person and not the label. She has gathered a collection of friends and family around her that represent the rainbow family of God. She calls us to do the same.

And the opposite side of that coin of acceptance was a fierce passion for justice. Now, Frances probably never would have used the word “advocate” or “justice-seeker” for herself, but she was nonetheless dedicated to a sense of fairness and doing what is right, especially for those who were weaker, younger, and marginalized by society. I’ve seen Frances angry, mad as hell you might say, and it usually involved someone treating someone she cared about badly. She was the mother bear zealously caring for her cubs.

And the third and final lesson Frances might be teaching us? Well, this is a lesson that Frances was trying to learn herself. Just last Spring, Frances and I were talking about a slow shift she was feeling in her life, a shift not away from caring less for others, but maybe caring more for herself. See, the flip side of caring so much is that one gets drained of energy, enthusiasm, hope... and that does no one any good. Frances was talking to me about doing some things for herself.

Of course, she couldn’t imagine doing something purely selfish or extravagant. Rather, she was thinking about getting some more schooling... maybe as a nurse... so she could still help people, but just get paid doing it!

Frances would want us to find the balance in life. Caring for others and caring for ourselves do not have to be in competition, although the world would make us think it is so. They actually go hand in hand. Helping ourselves, in wise and faithful ways, is an act of helping others. And even if she did not get to fully realize this balance, we can in her memory and in her honor.

Frances, are you trying to teach us a few lessons before you complete your journey? If so, maybe you are reminding us to not put off words and deeds that should be done today. Maybe you are calling us to serve the least among us, and stand up for fairness for the weakest. And maybe, just maybe, you are reminding us in your death that “loving your neighbor as you love yourself” is the right equation for true happiness.

We’re listening, Frances.  May we learn well.

Amen.
 

Pastor Allen V. Harris

Copyright 2006 -- The Rev. Allen V. Harris

Franklin Circle Christian Church (Disciples of Christ)

1688 Fulton Rd., Cleveland, OH 44113-3096