The Funeral of Henry Toole Clark, Jr -- 29 September 2008

"Henry Toole Clark, Jr."

The Rev. Stephen Elkins-Williams

In my twenty-three plus years as rector here at the Chapel of the Cross, it has not been unusual to receive a thick envelope every so often with a several page, single-spaced, typewritten letter from Henry Clark in it, often with supporting documentation. Sometimes the letter was written directly to me; sometimes it was a copy of a letter to the bishop or to the chancellor of the University or to the founder of Habitat for Humanity or to some other person who could accomplish what Henry had creatively envisioned and wanted to have happen. Always it dealt with housing for the poor, or with global mission and awareness, or with involving students, parishioners, and/or community or diocesan members in global ministry or low cost housing or a combination of the two! The goals and the means and the intermediate steps were always spelled out in detail and great clarity, and it was never in doubt what it is that Henry wanted me or us to do! And if you read Henry’s lengthy obituary yesterday about his incredibly accomplished life, you know initiation and vision and clarity of direction was his modus operandi for most of his nine decades!!

So it was with some surprise in preparing for this service that I discovered that Henry did not leave any previous directives. There were no several page letters in our parish burial file telling us how to go about this. Quite amazing! The one request Henry had apparently passed on verbally to Blanche was that we sing the nineteenth century hymn, “Onward Christian soldiers.” Here again, I was puzzled. Henry had never served in the military, having received a medical deferment. He certainly was a man who preferred to arrive at solutions by talking things out, not by resorting to physical force. Why was his one request for his very last service this infrequently used hymn?

But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense to me. Henry did not think of himself as an actual soldier, with a uniform and weapons. But he did see himself as a Christian soldier, as one engaged in a great effort, which required significant commitment and loyalty and discipline, with certain enemies to overcome. Some of this outlook developed through the example of close relatives who spent much of their adult lives as missionary preachers, teachers, and health workers in third world settings. His aunt Laura Clark, spent over 20 years in China, assisting an Anglican Bishop there, eventually dying of tuberculosis she was exposed to through her work. (Ironically Henry himself caught tuberculosis from one of his patients during medical school, which delayed his training for three years.) His cousin Bill was the youngest ever Episcopal Bishop of Alaska, and four of his sisters served as teachers and health workers in India, Brazil, Singapore, and Alaska.

Henry once wrote me that during his growing up years in eastern North Carolina, he considered entering the ordained ministry and working overseas, but that he decided that medicine was a better choice for him. I know that this vocational decision, however, was made out of a deep conviction of the importance of service to others, particularly those in need. Henry’s sense of being a Christian soldier was to mobilize all the organization and resources possible to serve all God’s children. Especially during his active years as a doctor, that compassion was focused on those in dire need of medical care and those least likely to get it. Whether training others or serving himself in Puerto Rico and Jamaica, Henry lived out his deep sense of mission through his medical profession. After retirement, he turned his attention and his skills to providing housing to those without it. He and Blanche formed and nourished and sustained Habitat for Humanity partnerships and generously provided financial incentives for other partnerships to form and especially encouraged students to be involved in providing this most basic human need, here and in third world settings. “In my Father’s house are many rooms,” we heard in today’s Gospel reading, and Henry was convinced that those many rooms ought to be available for everyone and not just in heaven but here on earth.

Now Henry has entered the final phase of his spiritual journey and his life with God. In traditional terms he retires from the Church Militant and joins the Church Triumphant, although as we will pray in a moment, he will still “go from strength to strength in the life of perfect service.” That service will be based out of his new home in his Father’s house. Some of us may just make it into heaven and perhaps be assigned to low cost housing! But I have to think that commensurate with his service to others, Henry’s place will be more like the King James’ translation of a mansion, complete with his beloved tennis courts and even a lane-marked swimming pool, where he loved to encourage his grandchildren’s competitive efforts.

And so, despite our sadness at the loss of our husband, our father, our grandfather, our great-grandfather, our colleague, our mentor, our friend, today’s is a joyful service. In addition to the stirring opening hymn requested by Henry, we will process out singing another rousing favorite, accompanied by the trumpet, “When the Saints Go Marching In.” In so doing we give thanks for the life of Henry Toole Clark, Jr., we acknowledge his long and dedicated and productive soldierly march, and with sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, we commend him into the hands of Almighty God. “The Lord bless him and keep him, the Lord make his face to shine upon him and be gracious unto him, the Lord lift up his countenance upon him and give him peace. Amen.”