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William J. Snyder III Memorial Service
20 May 2017
Bethel Evangelical Lutheran Church
Minneapolis, Minnesota
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NIV
RAGS Story – Walter Wangerin, Jr.
I saw a strange sight. I stumbled upon a story most strange, like nothing in my life, my street sense, my sly tongue had ever prepared me for. Hush, child. hush now, and I will tell it to you.
Even before the dawn one Friday morning I noticed a young man, handsome and strong, walking the alleys of our City. He was pulling an old cart filled with clothes both bright and new, and he was calling in a clear tenor voice: 'Rags!' Ah, the air was foul and the first light filthy to be crossed by such sweet music.
'Rags! New rags for old! I take your tired rags! Rags!'
'Now this is a wonder,' I thought to myself, for the man stood six-feet-four, and his arms were like tree limbs, hard and muscular, and his eyes flashed intelligence. Could he find no better job than this, to be a ragman in the inner city?
I followed him. My curiosity drove me. And I wasn't disappointed.
Soon the ragman saw a woman sitting on her back porch. She was sobbing into a handkerchief, signing, and shedding a thousand tears. Her knees and elbows made a sad X. Her shoulders shook. Her heart was breaking.
The Ragman stopped his cart. Quietly, he walked to the woman, stepping round tin cans, dead toys, and Pampers.
'Give me your rag,' he said gently. 'and I'll give you another.'
He slipped the handkerchief from her eyes. She looked up, and he laid across her palm a linen cloth so clean and new that it shined. She blinked from the gift to the giver.
Then, as he began to pull his cart again, the Ragman did a strange thing: he put her stained handkerchief to his own face; and then he began to weep, to sob as grievously as she had done, his shoulders shaking. Yet she was left without a tear.
'This is a wonder,' I breathed to myself, and I followed the sobbing Ragman like a child who cannot turn away from mystery.
'Rags! Rags! New Rags for old!"
In a little while, when the sky showed grey behind the rooftops and I could see the shredded curtains hanging out black windows, the Ragman came upon a girl whose head was wrapped in a bandage, whose eyes were empty. Blood soaked her bandage. A single line of blood ran down her cheek.
Now the tall Ragman looked upon this child with pity, and he drew a lovely yellow bonnet from his cart.
'Give me your rag,' he said, tracing his own line on her cheek, 'and I'll give you mine.'
The child could only gaze at him while he loosened the bandage, removed it, and tied it to his own head. The bonnet he set on hers. And I gasped at what I saw: for with the bandage went the wound! Against his brow it ran a darker, more substantial blood -- his own!
'Rags! Rags! I take old rags!' cried the sobbing, bleeding, strong, intelligent Ragman.
The sun hurt both the sky, now, and my eyes; the Ragman seemed more and more to hurry.
'Are you going to work?' he asked a man who leaned against a telephone pole. The man shook his head. The Ragman pressed him: 'Do you have a job?"
'Are you crazy?' sneered the other. He pulled away from the pole, revealing the right sleeve of his jacket -- flat, the cuff stuffed into the pocket. He had no arm.
'So,' said the Ragman. 'Give me your jacket, and I'll give you mine.' So much quiet authority in his voice!
The one-armed man took off his jacket. So did the Ragman -- and I trembled at what I saw: for the Ragman's arm stayed in its sleeve, and when the other put it on, he had two good arms, thick as tree limbs; but the Ragman had only one.
'Go to work,' he said.
After that he found a drunk, lying unconscious beneath an army blanket, an old man, hunched, wizened, and sick. He took that blanket and wrapped it round himself, but for the drunk he left new clothes.
And now I had to run to keep up with the Ragman. Though he was weeping uncontrollably, and bleeding freely at the forehead, pulling his cart with one arm, stumbling for drunkenness, falling again and again, exhausted, old, old, and sick, yet he went with terrible speed. On spider's legs he skittered through the alleys of the City, this mile and the next, until he came to its limits, and then he rushed beyond.
I wept to see the change in this man. I hurt to see his sorrow. And yet I need to see where he was going in such haste, perhaps to know what drove him so.
The little old Ragman -- he came to a landfill. He came to the garbage pits. And I waited to help him in what he did but I hung back, hiding. He climbed a hill. With tormented labor he cleared a little space on that hill. Then he signed. He lay down. He pillowed his head on a handkerchief and a jacket. He covered his bones with an army blanket. And he died.
Oh how I cried to witness that death! I slumped in a junked car and wailed and mourned as one who has no hope -- because I had come to love the Ragman. Every other face had faded in the wonder of this man, and I cherished him; but he died. I sobbed myself to sleep.
I did not know -- how could I know? -- that I slept through Friday night and Saturday and its night too. But then, on Sunday morning, I was wakened by a violence.
Light -- pure, hard, demanding light -- slammed against my sour face, and I blinked, and I looked, and I saw the first wonder of all. There was the Ragman, folding the blanket most carefully, a scar on his forehead, but alive! And, besides that, healthy! There was no sign of sorrow or age, and all the rags that he had gathered shined for cleanliness.
Well, then I lowered my head and, trembling for all that I had seen, I myself walked up to the Ragman. I told him my name with shame, for I was a sorry figure next to him. Then I took off all my clothes in that place, and I said to him with dear yearning in my voice: 'Dress me."
He dressed me. My Lord, he put new rags on me, and I am a wonder beside him. The Ragman, the Ragman, the Christ!
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Some of you have asked and others may be wondering why this date was chosen for a celebration of life and memorial service for our loved one and friend, William “Bill” Snyder. When considering the available dates in May (because I knew it could not happen before May), the first weekend was close to birthdays, the second weekend was Mother’s Day weekend and the last weekend was Memorial Day weekend. Providence determined that the available date was May 20th which provided me with an opportunity to unite two very important dates in my life.
You see, 44 years ago, on May 20, 1973, as a teenager, I stood before God, family and the congregation at Peace Lutheran Church in Claremont, Minnesota to confess and confirm my faith in the God the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. This date, those vows have remained to this day an important part of my life. Part of that rite of confirmation was the bestowing of what I choose to call “a lifetime Scripture verse” – Joshua 1:9. We hear it again:
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NIV
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous” and I will exchange your filthy rags for new! “Have I not commanded you? …Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged” for I am willing to take away all your spots and blemishes and deformities to carry them to a cross on a trash heap and die! Through it all, “the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go”. Those are powerful and meaningful words as I find myself living in a seventh different state since that day 44 years ago! Some of you have heard me repeat the words of Joshua 1:9 many times. In fact, for a few of you that verse was given special meaning in your own lives.
The same God who promised Joshua that He would be with him wherever he went in life promises us the same. This is the same Shepherd God that Jesus taught would leave the 99 sheep in his flock to search for the one missing. Before he entered the hospital for the last time in June 2016, one early morning…
The Good Shepherd (in White)!
David Turnmire (6/28/2016)
…Bill was dreaming or having visions. [Now you may choose to believe or not to believe in dreams and visions. The truth is that they may be and often are a source of comfort to the individual who is dying. They should also be a source of comfort to the loved ones left behind.] In an attempt to clarify what Bill was seeing, I asked him what he was saying and Bill told me that there was a Shepherd dressed in white. The Shepherd said it was not his time. That Shepherd promised Bill that he would be back to take him home.
When Bill was hospitalized last summer, many misunderstood Bill when he said that "he wanted to go home". He was not talking about an apartment on Leroy Street in Johnstown, Pennsylvania. For Bill, "home" is a house on Blair Avenue in Tyrone, Pennsylvania which is no longer there. I prayed for the Good Shepherd (in White) to take Bill by the hand and lead him "home". No, that was not my preference but the reality of my faith. Bill had repeatedly told me that he was tired and he was not talking about a lack of sleep.
Psalm 23
A psalm of David.
1 The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
2 He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
3 he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.
4 Even though I walk through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil, for you are with me;
your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
5 You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NIV
My Heaven
William Snyder (11/23/2010)
Bill wrote about his own vision of heaven:
“The dream started in the basement of my childhood home on Blair Avenue. I was standing in the basement looking at all this stuff! I first noticed that the things in the basement were objects from my life. Games, toys, furniture and nick knacks. I was overwhelmed by how much stuff was in the basement. Then I noticed David was in the basement with me. We started looking around at the different items when I noticed a box I really wanted to look in was being blocked by this big old metal pipe joint so I asked David to move it for me.
“When David moved the pipe, I noticed my son David was in the basement at that point looking at things on the other side of the basement. I started looking at items in the box and asked them to hide things I was handing them before anyone else got there! I looked up from the box and noticed this brownish display with pockets on it. In the pockets were all the brownish envelopes with oval windows on the front of each envelope. My eye caught this one envelope with something purple in it. I picked it up and I think it was a real Amethyst in the envelope. I turned around to put it back when I noticed all the other envelopes had disappeared. I walked over to the other side of the basement and as I was walking there, I noticed the furniture had changed into Donna’s stuff!
“When I got to the other side of the basement, David and David had everything organized and cleaned. I noticed the only thing left on that side were some outside items I recognized. The items where old lawn games. At that moment, I heard voices coming from the side basement door that went out to the side yard. I walked towards the stairs and looked up and saw little Brenda coming through the door. After her, Donna walked through the door. I could hear Mom’s and Brenda’s voices coming from outside. I walked up the stairs and went outside and stood beside mom, Brenda and Donna.
“I noticed they were looking across the street. There were two of the most beautiful apartment buildings I have ever seen. The apartment buildings had many balconies on the front of them. On these balconies were many people releasing these little lanterns that were being lit by small flames. The people released them and they floated into this incredibly beautiful sky. All the lanterns came together to make this most remarkable light. At that moment, I felt at peace and was truly happy!
“I woke up and noticed the time was 8:45 am. I was just going to stay up but I felt so drained and needed to sleep some more. I went back to bed.
“As the dream continued, I was standing with Donna on the corner of 15th street and Blair Avenue. We started walking towards our childhood home. I noticed the street was paved with this incredible reddish brick. The sidewalks were absolutely wonderful! I also noticed there were row houses along the street. They were indescribable. I asked Donna when everything changed. She said when you arrived. The row houses were located where the paper mill playground used to be. I cannot describe how beautiful everything was. Everything was so clean and glowing. As we walked towards the house, Donna’s face glowed and I realized I was the happiest I could ever be. I felt complete. We arrived at the house and Brenda came up to me and said we are truly your sisters now and she smiled the most loving smile at me. Mom looked at me and said, “Hi honey”. At that moment, I wanted to see the rest of the house. I knew the inside was going to be just like it was when I was growing up. I was heading towards the door when I woke up. The time was 9:00 am. I had tears in my eyes when I woke up. I cried for a couple minutes not wanting it to end because I felt drawn to go back.”
A Testament to Faith
In the process of sorting out and preparing for this service, I have discovered amazing things that Bill had written without my knowledge. One such message was written in a journal which Bill had started after we moved to Texas.
Just days before Christmas on December 21, 2010, Bill wrote this entry in his journal.
“[I] woke up emotional today! [I] think [it was the] Facebook page I saw yesterday [which was] really disturbing. The page was ‘F*** Jesus’!!! I find it disturbing people cannot believe in anything. How can you go through life and not feel there is some Higher Power at work?! Sad.
This has made me realize how much I love God! It broke my heart to see this.”
After Bill had returned home from the hospital to enter hospice care at home, he asked me about being baptized. He related to me his heartfelt belief that a previous baptismal experience was not sincere. Reaching security in his salvation was important to Bill. On Sunday, July 17, 2016, William Joseph Snyder renounced Satan and all his works and all his ways. He then confessed faith in Father, Son and Holy Spirit – Creator, Redeemer and Sanctifier! Through the water and Word of Holy Baptism, he received the gift of salvation by grace through faith. That faith served him well as he looked forward to going “home”.
Bill Snyder is finally “home at last”!
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9 NIV
Sometime after we met in 2002, Bill watched a video of my last sermon at Holy Cross Lutheran Church in Lidgerwood, North Dakota. During that service held on January 30, 1999, part of the message included the following story.
The Fork: “The Best Is Yet to Come”
There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.
She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like to be read and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.
"There's one more thing," she said excitedly.
"What's that?" came the Pastor's reply.
"This is very important," the young woman continued. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."
The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.
"That surprises you, doesn't it?" the young woman asked.
"Well, to be honest, I'm puzzled by the request," said the Pastor.
The young woman explained. "My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and to those who need encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming...like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!"
So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder "What's with the fork?" Then I want you to tell them: "Keep your fork ..the best is yet to come."
The Pastor's eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman goodbye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She knew that something better was coming.
At the funeral people were walking by the young woman's casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, "What's with the fork?" And over and over he smiled.
During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either.
He was right. The next time you reach down for your fork let it remind you, ever so gently, that the best is yet to come.
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Bill knew the “best was yet to come”! When he watched the video, I gave him one of the forks leftover from that 1999 service. Bill kept his fork. [Show fork.] It will be my prayer that each of you will keep your fork and remember that “the best is yet to come”!
31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? 32 He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things? 33 Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen? It is God who justifies. 34 Who then is the one who condemns? No one. Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. 35 Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? 36 As it is written:
“For your sake we face death all day long;
we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”
37 No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. 38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:31-39 NIV
Amen.
