This is based on a eulogy I gave at the memorial service of my maternal grandmother, Grace Hudson. I originally published it in February of 2007. – Mike Leno
Laurence & Grace Hudson, 1945
My grandmother was blessed with the wonderful name of “Grace.” Her full name was Grace Arvilla Hudson. (I will not comment on her middle name except to say that no one is perfect!) But along with the rest of her grand kids, I called her “Mama Grace.” On December 31, 2006 she died at the age of 99. She would have been 100 the following May.
In Romans 5:20, Paul makes one of his most memorable and to some, most controversial statements. He says, “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” This text assures us that nothing can outdo God’s grace. Even the opposite of grace cannot overcome it. By its nature, grace only increases with the need. And that means that no matter what happens and no matter what we do, we’ll always have grace. I learned a lot about grace from Mama Grace. And I learned it more from what she did than what she taught.
When I was a kid, my cousins and I loved going to Mama Grace’s house. That was especially true at Christmas time. Mama Grace loved having her grandchildren stay over night and open presents with the entire family on Christmas morning. So for several Christmas Eves in a row, my cousin JoAnn, her brother Steve, my brother Doug and I would roll out our sleeping bags on Mama Grace’s floor and try to go to sleep. We would whisper to each other for a while. Then, as my brother remembers, we would sometimes fake being asleep so that Mama Grace would tip-toe into the room and fill our stockings. I think she realized what was happening because in later years we always had to sleep downstairs.
What anticipation we had as we awoke starry-eyed on Christmas morning. Mama Grace always provided wonderful goodies – candy and popcorn balls along with the obligatory healthy stuff like apples, oranges and nuts – in our stockings hung from the mantle above her fireplace. And of course there were many more presents under the tree. I can still remember the slightly giddy and impatient joy we experienced. There was nothing quite as wonderful as Christmas morning at Mama Grace’s house.
You might be tempted to say that we loved Mama Grace because of the presents. But you would be wrong and you would also miss the point. Mama Grace did not give in order to win our love. She already had that. She gave because she enjoyed giving. And her grandchildren received her presents, not because they deserved them, but because they were freely given. And that is how grace works.
Kids naturally live on grace. It’s only when we become adults that we stop knowing how to receive grace. Kids receive presents for no other reason than because they are given. As adults we rarely give or receive Christmas presents; instead we exchange them. Kids naturally receive grace. Indeed, their very survival depends on it. You never hear a little boy talking to a friend saying, “Yeah, my dad got me this new bike. But I told him I can’t accept charity. I’ll pay him back somehow!” If you do hear a child talking that way, you can be sure the parents have a very twisted idea of what it means to give a gift. When I was kid, I realized that with Mama Grace, we’d always have presents; we’d always have grace.
Grace & Laurence Hudson, Laurelwood Academy, 1925
Another way Mama Grace taught me about grace was in her relationship to my grandfather. We called him “Grampy.” From their days at Laurelwood Academy, where they secretly got engaged during their senior year, they seemed to be in love. Of course they had their ups and downs over the years. They were both quite human and they had entirely different personalities.
Grampy was the quintessential woodsman philosopher. With only a high school education, he continued to educate himself by reading. Among other areas, he became quite knowledgeable about US history, especially the history of the Indians in the western states. And for years he taught a bible class at the Village Church in College Place, Washington. Once a farmer in McMinnville, Oregon, he went to work in the logging industry to put his two girls through Laurelwood Academy. He remained a tree faller even after they went to college, and even after they got married and had kids. But in spite of the rough and often dangerous environment of the logging industry, he always maintained a gentle, philosophical attitude toward life.
Mama Grace had her own ambitions. Besides being an impeccable housekeeper and adept at the sewing arts and many diverse crafts, she headed the Dorcas Federation (later “Community Services”) of the Village Church in College Place. She also became one of the charter members of a project called “Dress a Living Doll,” a charity providing clothes for kids, later taken over by the Salvation Army. In behavior and self evaluation, she could be quite a perfectionist. A couple of years before she died, I had a conversation with her about how she was feeling. She explained that the reason her health was not better (at the age of 97!) was because when she was younger she ate too much candy! We should all be so lucky.
But in spite of being so different, Mama Grace and Grampy supported each other. Mama Grace gave Grampy something that qualifies as one of the most important gifts one person can give another. She gave him her approval. She was a classy lady. And she might have preferred to stay in her home environment where she could keep house and dress up as she pleased. But every summer, she went with her husband to the woods where he worked. She kept their little travel trailer immaculate. But sometimes she also went into the woods and proudly watched Grampy fall trees. I know because I was privileged to be there with her on a couple of occasions.
When it came to falling trees, Grampy was an artist. I remember seeing one tree leaning at a steep angle over a fence. Mama Grace watched proudly and with some disbelief as he cut the face at nearly 90 degrees to the direction the tree was leaning; and then laid the tree down on the stump side without even touching the fence. Looking back, I realize that the fact that she was even there plus the obvious pride she took in how her husband did things was a gift of grace. If not for her pride and approval, I likely would not have been there or even known about my grandfather’s work.
Mama Grace is gone now; but she is not. Grace will always live on. Her goal was to live until the Lord came. But though she sleeps now, her next conscious moment will be with the Lord. So she will, in a sense, get her wish. She looked forward to a time when God’s grace would make things right for eternity; when there would be no more dying, crying pain or suffering; a time when we won’t have to wait for a funeral for us all to get together. And throughout eternity, we’ll always have Grace.
Post Script:
Family gatherings are always interesting; those involving the death of a family member even more so in some respects. They inevitably bring about the sharing of memories and the occasional analysis of family history. The memories we share at funerals are usually good ones; as well they should be. The four grandchildren including myself had a lot of wonderful things to remember and share. We agree; our grandmother was a saint. In fact, it becomes easy to utter that familiar cliché: “If anyone was ready to meet the Lord, she was.”
But I sense the need to correct what could be a most profound misunderstanding. Although I am convinced that she was ready to meet the Lord. That is not because of her goodness or even the gifts of grace she gave throughout her life. Furthermore, although she certainly was a saint, by biblical definition that simply means that God chose her; not that she achieved any sort of perfection and had a halo. Those who best knew Mama Grace knew that she was not perfect even though she could be quite a perfectionist. How ironic it is that for human beings, the pathway to perfection becomes more illusive the harder we try to find it.
I’m not trying to discount the nice things we said at the memorial service. We meant every word and I would not for one moment qualify any of it. But what I want to strenuously object to here is any implication that human goodness, graciousness, and gifts of charity are what make one worthy of salvation. To the extent that Mama Grace resembled the way God gives gifts to his children, she becomes an appropriate illustration of God’s grace. Oh that the rest of us would be better illustrations. But being an illustration of grace is far different from being a standard of spiritual perfection. There is only one standard of perfection; and that is Jesus Christ.
The Gospel changes people. But we are not saved on the basis of changing. We are saved because God enjoys giving gifts to his children. Period. To really know that, not just intellectually but on a gut level, makes living in God’s presence even better than Christmas at Mama Grace’s house.
