"Do justice; love kindness; and walk humbly with your God."

The prophetic oracles of Micah, first delivered over 2500 years ago, offer to us a moving summation of what God expects of us, in this life. So often, with all of our modern pondering about life’s meaning, its priorities, and its proper values, we forget the simplicity and the depth of these three simple yet profound commands contained in Micah’s ancient words. Do justice. Love kindness. And walk humbly with God.

We have gathered together, this afternoon, to remember and to honour the life of Don Jennison. As I read these ancient words from the prophet Micah, I must admit that there are few people that I have ever met whose lives give more evidence of the type of life commended by that ancient prophet. As I came to know him over the last few years, I can honestly say that I believe that Don Jennison was a man who sought to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God.

The life of Donald William Jennison began on May 19, 1927, here in Toronto. He was the only child born to May and Frank Jennison, who lived in this very neighbourhood for a good portion of Don's earliest years.

Don attended Swansea School, and then went on to Humberside Collegiate. He graduated from Victoria College with a Bachelor of Arts degree, and was then accepted to Teacher's College.

For a number of summers as a young man, Don worked up north at a camp called Camp Temagami. His work in that setting was closely related to two of the interests that would last with him throughout his life--namely, working with children, and enjoying the beauty and grandeur of the natural world.

Some of Don's most beloved memories from his own childhood and youth--and some of the greatest friendships that he ever had--were connected with his involvement in the Scouting movement. It was also during his time as a leader in the Scouting movement that Don fell in love with Joyce Allen. Don and Joyce were married in this very sanctuary on July 3, 1954, and celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversary just last year.

After their wedding, Don and Joyce lived, for a period of time, in an apartment on Kingsway Avenue, before buying their first home in Etobicoke. Their lives were richly blessed with the birth of their children--Paul, Donna and Eric; and later, with the birth of their grandchildren Nicholaus, Tina, Jessica, Michael, Julia and Isabel.

Many of the family's most cherished memories come from their times spent together at the cottage. Whether it was swimming in the lake, or tramping through the woods, or sitting around a campfire singing silly songs while Don sang and strummed on his guitar, that time spent at the cottage over the years offered many occasions for joyful memories that will certainly outlast this present sadness. Don and his family enjoyed canoeing, sailing, watching the birds and investigating the rocks, the forests, the flowers, and the beauties of the natural world during those summer days together.

After completing Teacher’s College, Don taught in elementary and then junior high schools for a number of years. Don then began a long and dedicated career in school administration, first serving as a vice-principal and then as a principal in a number of different schools in the Peel School Board, including at Applewood, Munden Park and Eastbourne schools.

Don's style as a principal was one in which the needs and concerns of the children were paramount. Upon his retirement as a principal, Don received a letter from a colleague and a friend which included the following words--words which provide a fitting testament to the type of teacher and principal that Don had been. That colleague wrote, to Don, that "I admired your interest in kids and your ability to place their needs above the bureaucratic needs of the system." It was that same desire to elevate the needs of people above faceless and sometimes demoralizing systems of power that would later lead Don to become actively engaged in a host of community-based groups and initiatives. A few years ago, for example, Don was quoted in the Toronto Star’s coverage of a community meeting which had been convened to explore ways to address crime in society. In spite of the fact that crime rates were falling, the government of the time was seeking to ‘get tough’ on crime, even as they were simultaneously proposing significant cuts to welfare and education funding. Don saw—and spoke—to the absurdity of the situation. “When people aren't valued in society," he was quoted as saying, "that's how we get crime." Whether it was issues related to the children in his schools, or his later involvement in his community, Don was a man who was more interested in addressing the causes of people’s problems rather than simply sitting in harsh judgement on those who had fallen into times of difficulty.

Apart from his work in schools, Don and Joyce had a number of good friendships with other couples and individuals over the years. One of the closest sets of friends was a group of men with whom Don would, on occasion, participate in especially lofty and noble pursuits—such as their regular games of poker. That group of about eight men would usually gather at one of the houses and spend the evening together, playing cards and likely solving the world’s problems.

On one such occasion, however, the friends decided that they were going to take a boat out onto Lake Ontario for their poker game. One of the members of that group owned a boat which was moored at the marina on the Humber River. That boat was named after the seventh planet in our solar system, the planet Uranus. Out of a sense of the proper decorum needed to mark that lofty expedition, one of the members of that august company of sailors took it upon himself to re-name the boat by stencilling the word UP in front of the boat's planetary name.

Don had a deep love of music and particularly operas and classical music. Over the last few days, Don’s family members have often commented on how much Don was touched and moved by his love of music.

As well as time spent with family and friends, Don had a number of more individual pursuits. . He loved birding, flying model airplanes, listening to music, running, working in his workshop, and walking in nature. As well, and particularly over the last few years, Don dedicated a significant portion of his time and his energy to an active participation in the life of this neighbourhood and city.

Whether it was the simple act of distributing flyers and pamphlets about issues of concern to local residents, or attending community meetings to voice his perspectives on approaches to crime, or protesting environmentally destructive municipal development, or leading initiatives to address what he considered to be unwise directions on a host of issues affecting the residents of this city, Don could be counted upon to be informed, and to be involved. As John Leeson, who is one of Don’s friends from world19--a community citizens’ group that Don was a part of--beautifully wrote in a tribute to Don, Don was,

someone who had always committed his time, energy, and his heart to causes of principle, to fights for the ordinary citizen, and against arbitrary and senseless decisions wherever they originated….He believed fiercely in social justice, in Canadian nationalism, in the importance of public education and public healthcare, and in economic and monetary reform. As a retired educator, he goaded the Ontario Teachers' Pension Fund to invest only in socially responsible investments. He took the same principles to neighbourhood issues, whether supporting the viability of small businesses on Bloor, or helping to get rid of a gigantic billboard on the edge of High Park. Don believed in a community that existed for, and responded to, its residents.

At one point or another, Don was “a part of…The Council of Canadians, the Toronto Health Coalition, COMER (Council on Monetary and Economic Reform), The Alliance of Seniors to Protect Canada's Social Programs, the Swansea Historical Society, Swansea Area Ratepayers Association, and as far as I know, he has at times joined most political parties depending on which could best serve the cause at the time.

Towards the end of the tribute to Don, John wrote,

Without Don…some local politicians will now be receiving fewer phone calls, letters and emails -- unless we all help to make up for their loss. It's up to those of us who knew him, whenever we come across something outrageous and think to ourselves, "Don wouldn't put up with that!", to take on a bit of Don's work.

At the conclusion of the tribute, John wrote,

Finally -- but most importantly -- we want to express our sincere condolences and sympathy to Joyce and all of Don's family. We share your loss, but also share a small part of your joy in Don's life.

In the last few years, Don became a very regular and active part of this congregation—and it was through that contact that he and Joyce became friends to myself, to my wife Karen, and in particular to our now two-year old daughter Kate. Don and Joyce were two of the first names that Kate learned how to pronounce, and shortly thereafter Don and Joyce would be regularly mentioned in Kate’s prayers before bedtime.

But it was not only Kate who enjoyed that friendship. I count it a great honour to have been able to call Don Jennison a friend. Each weekday morning, the doors of this sanctuary are opened, and I spend a period of time in silent prayer and reflection as I begin the day. On many occasions, Don would drop in to the church, and we would sit and talk. He would often have a clipping, or details about some new organization, or a book to share with me, many of which had to do with some new initiative about the pursuit of justice, fairness, and decency in our society and our world. We would talk about many things.

It was in those conversations that I came to realize the depth and integrity in which Don sought to live his life and to practice his faith. Even though he was a weekly worshipper, a participant in Bible study groups, the chairperson of the mission and outreach group, and a participant, and sometimes the instigator of a variety of initiatives ranging all the way from petitions related to the Year 2000 Jubilee debt relief campaign, to the collection of socks and underwear for the homeless, to the purchasing of Fair Trade coffee for coffee hour, to the rolling of pennies to benefit AIDS patients in Africa—Don never formally became a member of the congregation. A part of his reluctance was rooted in his honest struggle with the great mysteries of faith—the resurrection, the problem of suffering, the injustices and inequalities in a world of such wonder and of beauty. I deeply enjoyed our conversations and our friendship, and I deeply honoured the honesty and integrity with which Don sought to live. He was a man who was dedicated to the teachings of Christ, but who found it difficult to accept the mysteries of faith without an honest intellectual and spiritual struggle. I find consolation in the faith that, even now, for Don, the mysteries have given way to a new and, for us, incomprehensible understanding. “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then we will see face to face.”

As we all know, the past months have been incredibly difficult ones for Don, for Joyce and for their family. The seemingly endless set of operations, with moments of progress so often followed by periods of significant setbacks, were frustrating for Don, for his friends and for his family members. The pain that both Don and his family experienced, since his first heart operation back in the end of October, was eloquently described by his granddaughter Julia, who wrote a poem for school about Don’s time of suffering. In that poem, entitled “Heart Broken”, Julia articulated the pain that she was experiencing, and that each one of us, as his friends, felt for Don. Julia wrote,

As I walk away from
my grandpas house, a
warm tear rolls down
my cold cheek, my heart
aching like a headache that
no pill can stop, as I
sit in the car I wonder
what is going to happen?
I feel the pain that he is
going to feel, I call to find
out how he is, while his
frail sleeping body recovers.

In spite of the pain that they were all feeling for Don, it is a tribute to his family to see the way that they walked, together, through this difficult time. Visits from his children and his grandchildren—sometimes on a daily basis—buoyed up Don’s spirits, even as he himself was undergoing such a difficult series of operations, procedures and treatments.

In particular, it is only right that we honour the way that Joyce’s joyful and loving spirit seemed to shine in a particularly wonderful way as she faithfully visited Don on a daily basis. So often, when I would go down to visit Don at St. Michael's, Joyce would introduce me, in the waiting room outside of the Intensive Care Unit, to some other caregiver who was also going through a time of struggle—and so often, it became quite apparent that Joyce herself was offering comfort, consolation and friendship to those around her, even as she, herself, was going through such a difficult time.

Just before 3:00 last Tuesday morning—in what seemed to be the darkest part of the night—Joyce and I made the difficult trip to St. Joseph's Health Center in order to be with Don during his final moments in this life. As we talked to him, and prayed for him, and held his hands as he came to the end of his days, I found myself both humbled and honoured to be with this good and decent man at the end of his time upon this earth.

After Don’s life had come to an end, Joyce and I drove back from St. Joseph’s, and I dropped her off at about 4:15 a.m. As I did so, I had an unusual but wonderful moment of grace. Even though it was still quite dark, Joyce and I heard a bird start to sing as we pulled up to the Jennison home. Not being the birder that Don was, I have no idea what kind of bird was singing. But after I dropped Joyce off, and drove up Ellis Avenue to the manse, an entire chorus of birds joined in the song of that one single bird. I parked the car, and stood in our driveway and listened as the bird’s songs rang out across the neighbourhood.

I am not often out at 4:00 in the morning, so I have no idea whether the birds always start singing at that moment in the day. But even if it was just a random coincidence, it was, for me, a moment of sheer and awe-inspiring grace. After all, to stand alone in the dark, after watching a good man pass away—a man who loved birds and who loved music--and then to hear the birds begin to sing about the dawn of a new day was an experience almost too deep for words.

As I stood there in the dark, listening to the birds, I could not help but rest in the knowledge that, for Don, a new day had begun. The darkness was past. The suffering, the frustration and the pain of the last few months has now given way to a new reality, a new existence, a new life in the presence of God. The peace and the comfort that so many of us prayed for, for him, has come—perhaps not in the way that we would have chosen or preferred, but it has come to him nonetheless. His suffering is over; and we rest in the faith that, as the writer of the Letter to the Romans so beautifully wrote, “the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.”

Even as Christ’s suffering on the cross gave way to the joy of the empty tomb, so too Don’s time of suffering has now given way to a new life, free from the confines of mortality and from the inevitable decline of age. Because of what Christ accomplished on the cross, each one of us can take comfort and find strength in knowing that the power of sin, suffering, injustice and death has been broken—once and for all—and that Christ’s invitation to set aside our fear and instead to find a deep and lasting peace in him—a peace that nothing else in this world can give to us—is an invitation that is meant for each one of us. The good news of God in Jesus Christ is that death has been conquered; and that the love of God has, and will, prevail over the seemingly ultimate power of our last and greatest enemy, that being death itself.

And it is for that reason that we, even in this time of sadness, find opportunity to celebrate.

After all, not only has the power of death been broken but in so many ways, Don lived this life as God required.

He was a man who sought to do justice—whether it was on behalf of his fellow citizens and neighbours, or whether it was in his active and involved engagement with some of the massive global issues that cry out for justice and for fairness. He did justice.

He was a man who loved kindness—and sought to offer that kindness to the children in his schools, to his neighbours on the street, to his grandchildren, to the poor and the vulnerable in our society. He loved kindness.

And he was a man who, especially toward the end of his life, walked humbly with God. Don’s humility before God did not always allow him to pretend that he comprehended the deepest mysteries of faith, but it was a humility which nonetheless inspired him to live in a way that would be in accordance with Christ’s overarching command to love God and to love one’s neighbour as oneself. His awe at the beauty and the wonder of creation, his anger at injustice, his willingness to explore new ideas and to embrace unfamiliar ways, even into his elderly years—all of these attributes made him a tremendous inspiration.

Don was not a perfect man; none of us are. If we were, there would be no need for the grace of God. But even as we remember his life this day, and as we seek, in his life, some measure of inspiration for our own lives, perhaps it is simply in remembering these three simple prophetic commands that seemed so evident in the life of Don Jennison. What is required of us, in the eyes of God? To do justice; to love kindness, and to walk humbly with God as we make our way, through this beautiful but sometimes deeply broken world, to the time when we, too, will come to the end of our days, and will be safely ushered, by Christ himself, into the light of God’s eternal love.

Our faith assures us that, even in this time of sadness and death, we are not to lose hope. Our faith invites us to believe, and to live in the joy of knowing that what Christ accomplished for us, and for all of creation, is truly good news for each one of us. The power of death has been broken. The grave will not have the final claim upon us. A new and eternal life awaits us, safe in the presence of the God who loves us more than any of us can begin to imagine.

It is in that faith, in that hope, and in the knowledge of that love that we are called to live out our days upon this earth. It is in that faith, hope and love that we give thanks, to God, for the beautiful gift who was our friend Don.

And it is in that faith, hope and love that we live in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life, and even now look forward, with expectant hearts, to the day of resurrection, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Friends, the mortal life of Donald William Jennison has come to an end.

But Don’s eternal life has only just begun.

Thanks be to God. Amen.