Remarks at the Funeral of Peter John De Mott
by Elizabeth McAlister, published at www.jonahhouse.org
I stood transfixed last night by the body of our beloved Peter. It was his body - a body that had been a wellspring of quiet strength. Peter could do just about anything that needed doing; and he did it with unhurried, measured movement - almost like a dance.
But I was overwhelmed by the realization that this body was not Peter. The spirit was gone from it. And I marveled at the delicate interconnectedness between body and spirit. As long as I've known Peter, I've known him as a man who carefully nurtured both body and spirit - his own and those of all he met. Without fanfare or flourish, he was as faithful to his daily run as he was to his reading and reflection and prayer and to keeping in touch with loved one. Careful. Observant. Consistent. Dependable.
I see him with Marie, Kate, Nora and Saoirse - as well as with my own Kate - over the years carrying one after the other. He had a way of carrying the little ones on one arm, talking to them, singing to them, imparting to them his own sense of wonder at the miracle of life and creation and literature and music.
I am enraged that Peter - that so special embodiment of spirit - is gone from us. I rage against the grief with which you must walk - you, Ellen, Marie, Kate, Nora and Saoirse - and all who lived so closely to him.
Shortly, we will put Peter's body in the ground. But - you know - we will never bury Peter's spirit. It is so alive in each of us. And it is up to each and every one of us to not only keep that spirit alive, but to multiply it. Yes, multiply it.
The generosity with which Peter gave himself to life and love and compassion and nonviolence has transformed so much more than we will ever know. Peter John De Mott - PRESENTE!
I stood transfixed last night by the body of our beloved Peter. It was his body - a body that had been a wellspring of quiet strength. Peter could do just about anything that needed doing; and he did it with unhurried, measured movement - almost like a dance.
But I was overwhelmed by the realization that this body was not Peter. The spirit was gone from it. And I marveled at the delicate interconnectedness between body and spirit. As long as I've known Peter, I've known him as a man who carefully nurtured both body and spirit - his own and those of all he met. Without fanfare or flourish, he was as faithful to his daily run as he was to his reading and reflection and prayer and to keeping in touch with loved one. Careful. Observant. Consistent. Dependable.
I see him with Marie, Kate, Nora and Saoirse - as well as with my own Kate - over the years carrying one after the other. He had a way of carrying the little ones on one arm, talking to them, singing to them, imparting to them his own sense of wonder at the miracle of life and creation and literature and music.
I am enraged that Peter - that so special embodiment of spirit - is gone from us. I rage against the grief with which you must walk - you, Ellen, Marie, Kate, Nora and Saoirse - and all who lived so closely to him.
Shortly, we will put Peter's body in the ground. But - you know - we will never bury Peter's spirit. It is so alive in each of us. And it is up to each and every one of us to not only keep that spirit alive, but to multiply it. Yes, multiply it.
The generosity with which Peter gave himself to life and love and compassion and nonviolence has transformed so much more than we will ever know. Peter John De Mott - PRESENTE!
