There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged
and think my work’s in vain,
but then the Holy Spirit
revives my soul again.

As we gather here at Camp McDowell, Alabama, we name this land and the people who have inhabited this holy space where we sing and pray, laugh and cry, where we are challenged, nurtured, and transformed. This land is a gift which welcomes and supports us in our holy journey.

We name, now, the Yuchi, Muscogee, Chickasaw, and Shawnee people, whose ancestors – as many as 23,000 years ago entered the land mass of North American across the Bering strait from Asia. They were the first humans who joined the winged creatures, the four-leggeds, and the ones who swim in the water and crawl over the land.

These Yuchi, Muscogee, Chickasaw, and Shawnee people used this area as a common hunting ground. And they were custodians of the land on which this camp stands. They occupied and cared for this land over countless generations before being invaded and decimated by European forces.

In 1830, after the Indian Removal Act was signed by President Andrew Jackson, they were forcibly relocated to the country we now call Oklahoma. During the Trail of Tears, thousands of men, women, and children died on the journey.

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the wounded soul.

We also acknowledge the enslaved persons of African descent who lived in bondage here in

Winston county, Alabama. In 1860 census (the year before the civil war started), we find that 120 Africans -- ranging in age from 2 months to 56 years were enslaved by 16 owners.

We acknowledge the 347 reported lynchings in the state of Alabama between the years of 1882 and 1968. While there were no reported lynchings in this county, in Walker county, just south of here, there were four. We acknowledged those lynchings that went unreported and those which have have occurred since 1968.

Beloveds, this land is rich with history. We are surrounded by the spirits of those who walked this ground before us. As we walk on this land, let us walk gently. It is land hallowed by the blood and sweat, moans and tears of our indigenous and African siblings. It is land hallowed by the lives of all those who went before us.

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the wounded soul.

Beloveds, this land is hallowed by our tears and our prayers. Our laughter and our songs. Our breaking bread together over meals and at the communion table. Our storytelling and our silences.

Our time here, walking together as the community of Academy 42 transforms this land we walk on, transforms the air we breathe. Transforms our lives and the trajectory of the world in its long arc towards Love.

In the mystery of love, we are united with the land and with all the people who have gone before us and all who will come after us.

In the mystery of love, we are united in this place and at this time with all of our community. Those of us here today, those of us who are not with us this week, and even into the reaches of heaven.

And so we turn, now, to a time of remembering and celebrating the life of our sibling, Ava Harrison Rozelle.

Dying, Christ destroyed our death.
Rising, Christ restored our life.
Christ will come again in glory.

As in baptism Ava put on Christ,
so in Christ Ava is clothed with glory. …

Jesus said, I am the resurrection and I am life.
Those who believe in me, even though they die, yet shall they live,
and whoever lives and believes in me shall never die.
I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.
I died, and behold I am alive for evermore,
and I hold the keys of hell and death.
Because I live, you shall live also.

Friends, let us now praise God as we
Remember and celebrate the life of dear sibling, Ava.

We come together in grief, acknowledging our human loss.
May God grant us grace, that in pain we may find comfort,
in sorrow hope, in death resurrection.

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the wounded soul.

I invite you, now, to share any stories or memories about Ava. If you will please raise your hand, we’ll bring a microphone to you.

There is a balm in Gilead
To make the wounded whole
There is a balm in Gilead
To heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged
and think my work’s in vain,
but then the Holy Spirit
revives my soul again.

[Testimonials about Ava]

Many of you have asked about memorials for Ava. Her covenant group has suggested
contributions to the Academy scholarship fund in her memory. 
We have a page on our academy 42 website with instructions and a link. Derrick will
post a link on our facebook page. 

A Blessing of the Empty Space
Beth A. Richardson
From the book, Christ Beside Me, Christ Within Me: Celtic Blessings

You sit in the empty place that is left,
After the death, the arrangements, the service,
The cards and calls and e-mails,
The departure of family,
The thank-yous and acknowledgments.

Left with the emptiness,
The space that can never be filled
In quite the same way.

You see a shadow, hear a sound,
Taste a food they used to love,
Start to tell them something about your day,
Smell a blanket or sweater,
And your eyes and heart fill with tears.

The first week, the first month, the first birthday,
The first holiday, the first anniversary,
These bring you to the place of remembering,
The place of exquisite, lonely sorrow.

Bless you and your memories.
Bless the tender heart that beats within you.
Bless the empty space that can never be filled.

The shadows, the smells, the tastes, the thoughts,
Transform their pain into blessings,
Signs that though you live in that desperately empty place,
Your loved ones accompany you,
Laugh in the shelter of your heart.

The empty place
That can never be filled
In quite the same way
Is filled
With love.