June 29, 2007
Muehlbach Funeral Home, Kansas City
Jay Matthew Martin – what a gift this good man was, and continues to be, to this community; to you, his loved ones.
There was a passion that burned inside Jay, sometimes on low, sometimes on high, but always it served as energy for his life. You saw it back when he started the Joan Davis School, and again throughout his career teaching at several area schools and universities, when he focused his energies on special education kids, kids who for whatever reason found themselves behind the 8-ball in life and in danger of having their voices drowned out by kids with the louder voices of privilege and popularity and success. Jay was there with those special kids, patiently working with them, reassuring them that they mattered, that each one of them was unique and valued.
You saw that passion burn when he dedicated himself to restoration. Historic buildings, Union Station, old houses, damaged relationships between people – Jay was into restoring them all. Fix it up, dismantle the old bad stuff and replace it with something new and stronger and healthier; leave it better than you found it, that was Jay’s way.
Very simply, Jay had a passion for relationship, for connection; and he gave vent to that passion by living with authenticity and transparency and compassion.
I had a good conversation with Jay as he was recovering from his stroke back in 2003. It was still difficult for him to speak, so the words he used were chosen very carefully. That conversation revealed him to be a man of strong conviction, a man impatient with the judgmentalism of others, and a man of deep faith. The day I saw him he was still seething, angry over a visit he had recently had from a preacher who was on a mission to save his soul, told him that if he didn’t get baptized again he was doomed. I suggested to Jay that the next time he saw him he should tell that preacher he just might go to hell for lying. Jay liked that.
Jay was able, somehow, to hold onto a way of being in this world that seems to elude so many of us. As smart as he was, as savvy as he was about the ways of the world, still he welcomed you with a kind of innocence and acceptance, an openness that was just plain disarming. We’ve already heard it: There were no strangers in Jay’s life, just people he hadn’t had time to win over as friends yet. He always remembered you, always had time for you. And it seems as though he never met a charity he didn’t like, or support.
He left us far too soon, this good man, and unexpectedly. If he had known, if he had had time to prepare, I believe that this man who lived so intentionally would have taken the time to sit down with each of you, maybe alone, maybe in twos or threes, and told you he loved you; would have told you what it was about you that warmed his heart. He wasn’t able to do that, but perhaps you can imagine that conversation, and in imagining, claim its truth.
In his book Bread for the Journey, Henri Nouwen offers some wisdom about death and life, and as you hear these words, I encourage you to think of Jay.
“Hope and faith will both come to an end when we die. But love will remain. Love is eternal. Love comes from God and returns to God. When we die, we will lose everything that life gave us except love. The love with which we lived our lives is the life of God within us. It is the divine, indestructible core of our being. This love not only will remain but will also bear fruit from generation to generation.
“When we approach our deaths let us say to those we leave behind, "Don't let your heart be troubled. The love of God that dwells in my heart will come to you and offer you consolation and comfort."
If you want to honor Jay, don’t let your heart be troubled. Instead, celebrate. Raise a toast to this life that he loved. Find a charity to support; or two, or 10. Patch up a bruised relationship. Forgive someone who doesn’t deserve it. Look this world right in the eye – this world with all of its brokenness and brutality and selfishness – and love it for its beauty. This is how the love of God bears fruit from generation to generation, by living and working in you, as it did in Jay. May God keep us faithful in that life of love. Amen.
