Preached on Thursday, August 7, 2025 at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral, Little Rock in memoriam Donald Edward Christian (August 23, 1935 – July 14, 2025).

“Those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31)

The Christian family and I sat down to plan out this service just a few days after Don died. This service is the fruit of their thoughtfulness and care.

A big step in the planning process is choosing passages from Holy Scripture. I had my Prayer Book in one hand and my Bible in the other, thumbing through all of the greatest hits for Pam, and Dodson, and Sheffield, and Drew, and Allison to choose from. They picked excellent readings.

One of the readings we originally chose was from the book of Wisdom—a classic. You probably know it. “The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment will ever touch them…they are at peace.” There is something absolutely true about those words for our beloved Don. His righteous soul now finds its rest in the hand of our faithful God, and no torment—not a single one!—will ever touch him again. No pain, no sadness: no Razorback loss, no bad day on the fairway, no routine sadness that comes with life on this earth, no tragic pain that comes with just being human, no decay or illness that comes with living 89 long years––none of it, not anymore. Don is in God’s hand, once and for all, and nothing can torment him ever again. “He is at peace.”

And yet, when I started praying over these readings from Scripture a couple of weeks ago, I thought to myself: no, this isn’t quite it. Don’t get me wrong: there’s something absolutely true about this passage from the book of Wisdom. And yet, “being at peace” sounded too sedentary, too inactive, too restful for Don Christian. Don Christian was active.

After all, he was a supreme athlete. It began in childhood and adolescence at Searcy High School. When it came to head up the Pig Trail to the University, full scholarship in hand, he knew what it meant to be a teamplayer, a hardworker, an athlete. And it showed: lettering in 1955, 1956, and 1957, with victories against Texas and Ole Miss. He hung up his cleats in 1957, just as some new coach from Missouri by the name of Frank Broyles was getting to Fayetteville. But even as a student, Don was involved with the hiring process that brought Coach Broyles to the Arkansas football program. Don was inducted into the University of Arkansas Sports Hall of Honor in 2013, one of the most treasured moments of his life.

Athletics didn’t end upon graduation, though. He took to hunting in his young years, and he was a golfer for many years––as long as he could, really. And he passed along the pride he had in sports to his family.

Don brought that pride to his work. He had a good, active career, first with the family business, and in 1986, with Stephens, from which he retired as a senior vice president in 2017.

Don was an active member of this congregation since 1958, which has been a tremendous blessing to all of us here. The fingerprints of Don and his family are everywhere. He served as our Junior Warden, the board member in charge of our property, which means his fingerprints are literally everywhere. (So it goes with an historic property like ours.) But more than anything, and more subtly, he was a faithful follower of Christ, saying his prayers here Sunday after Sunday for years. His kids tell me that, growing up, not even an encroaching football kickoff time could make him want to rush past Sunday morning in Church––a good man.

And that brings me to his family, the greatest honor of his life, the source of more joy than he ever thought possible: becoming father to his children, Dodson, Sheffield, and Drew; becoming stepfather to Allison; becoming father-in-law to their spouses; becoming grandfather to his dear grandchildren; becoming great-grandfather to their children; and of course, being husband and companion to Pam.

Pam, just two days after Don’s death was your 48th anniversary. On July 16, 1977, you married in this Cathedral, and Don vowed to take you to have and to hold from that day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death you do part––and by God’s grace, he made good on that promise.

Don Christian was active. His life was a full one. And we have all been blessed by that in countless ways.

One of the pressing reasons we grieve today is because such activity slows down––for Don and for all of us. We eventually feel the touch of “time’s cruel hand,” to use Shakespeare’s phrase [1]. We feel it, especially those of us gathered in this Cathedral today. Such a rich and full and active life slows down, and, to our eyes, now seems to have come to an end. We grieve that––rightfully so.

But here, the Gospel enters the scene. The Good News breaks through on just this point. As the Prayer Book puts it, and as Chris will soon pray over our Lord’s Table, to God’s faithful people, “life is changed, not ended” [2]. What we know in Don to be true does not find its end in death but finds its redemption, its transformation, its perfection. Why should what we know about Don come to an end, even in death? “Life is changed, not ended.”

That’s what came to me as I prayed over these readings in recent weeks. So, I sent a note to Sheffield asking if the family would instead consider a passage from the book of Isaiah. “The book of Wisdom is great,” I told her, “but I think Isaiah has something for us to hear.” Y’all were kind to oblige the preacher. Dodson, you read it beautifully.

“Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:28–31)

That’s Isaiah’s way of saying “life is changed, not ended.” What we know to be true in Don does not come to an end––not ended, but changed. To our eyes, Don’s life has come to an end. Everything we have known to be true about this man seems to be finished––but not quite! In one way, he is at rest, no torment ever touching him again. Scripture reassures us of this. But in another way, he is animated with new life. Everything we have known to be true about Don continues with new force and vigor, with new strength and power, with a quickened step and a hastened walk, animated with new life given to him by the LORD Who always makes good on His promise. Life continues for Don, far more than we can possibly imagine. He keeps on going down the field. And we celebrate that miracle today.

The book of Isaiah has Good News to speak to us about Don, but it also has Good News for those of us who continue on this earthly pilgrimage. The grief of “continuing on” without Don is weighty. It can make us tired and weary; it can cause us to stumble and fall. But the good LORD meets us in our earthly pilgrimage, too. He runs to meet us with His grace, as well. Remember: even in this life, “those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Just as God gives new life to Don, so God gives new life to those of us who mourn. Call on Him, and He will draw near.

[1] William Shakespeare, Sonnet 60.

[2] BCP, 382.