Including a homily preached on November 28, 2015 at St. Barnabas Episcopal Church, Denton, Texas by Fr. Donald K. Johnson

Last weekend I traveled to Texas to participate in a memorial service celebrating the life of my old friend, Cecil Adkins. Here he is with a tromba marina or trumpet marine, a strange instrument about which he llkely knew more than anybody. The photo is courtesy of his daughter, Madeline. The grin was his own. I’m thinking that Cecil built this tromba marina, though I think he also owned another that was quite old. He built many musical instruments in his long and rich life.

Cecil’s career spanned thirty-seven years as a member of the musicology faculty of the College of Music at what is now the University of North Texas. His obituary, published in the Denton Record Chronicle lists his accomplishments through those years. One of the last dissertations Cecil directed at North Texas concerned the Hinners Organ Company, long a builder of pipe organs for churches, mostly in the Midwest.

He also loved the accordion and turned to playing that instrument in retirement. His family chose a photograph of Cecil with an accordion to represent him on the cover of the memorial pamphlet they prepared for his funeral. Again, the grin is his own.

Whatever else he was, Cecil was a man who loved life, who loved to work with his hands as he loved the life of his mind. The memorial service at St. Barnabas Church, arranged and presented by his wife of many years, Alis Dickinson Adkins, and his wonderful children, was moving and beautiful. I can think of no better way to remember him here than to quote Fr. Donald Johnson’s eulogy at that service. It perfectly images my memory of my friend and relates it to the occasion of our presence on that day.

Prayer lies at the heart of the life of faith. It does so because prayer is, in a very real sense, the human half of a conversation or dialog with God, an interaction with the Creator of all things. Though we sometimes limit our understanding of prayer to our words, either audible or silent, this is a rather unfortunate limitation of understanding. Prayer is really an attitude, an approach to life; as such, it may undergird and find expression in any aspect of our lives, and is not limited just to our conversation. As we gather today as family and friends to remember Cecil Adkins and to commend him to God’s eternal love, it seems appropriate that we recall once again the words of that great 16th century German theologian Martin Luther that, “the person who sings, prays twice.”

Yet even Luther’s words, taken on their own, are far too limiting, especially when we consider Cecil’s life. Along with many others, a humble monk named Brother Lawrence reminds us that anything, even so mundane a task as washing the dishes, can be a form of prayer.

Cecil Adkins lived his life with an enthusiasm and a creativity which revealed a soul in constant dialog with God. Music was, of course, central to his life, from his college days, through his military service, through his career at the University of North Texas, and then in his retirement years. His skills as a musician, and as a builder of instruments, were great gifts to his family and friends, his university, and his church. And I always appreciated the way that he could track down and silence a cyphering pipe when our often cranky but much beloved pipe organ decided it wanted attention. Together with Alis, Cecil helped to create the musical tradition which is still a central a part of the identity of St. Barnabas’ Parish.

Cecil’s skill as a craftsman was not limited to instrument building. I was blessed by being able to work with him for several months on a project that brought him great satisfaction – the rebuilding of a 28 foot mahogany sailboat, named “Desire” by her previous owner. Since I have no real skills in woodworking or boatbuilding I felt like an apprentice because I knew that I was working in the shadow of a Master Craftsman. Someone else is now continuing that rebuilding process, and I hope that he finds as much joy and fulfillment in that work as Cecil always did.

An instrument builder and a boat builder, Cecil’s work also included furniture and marquetry. While working on his boat, I watched him build a beautiful cherry wood night stand for Alis. So, whatever he was creating, his work was always at the highest level of beauty and function.

I suspect, however, that when it came to his legacy, Cecil was most proud – and rightly so – of his and Alis’ children. Whether it was Sean, a scientist-engineer in the field of astronomy, Lynne in radio and television, Anthony in the business world, or Elizabeth, Christopher, Clare, Anthony, Alexandra, and Madeline in music, he took great pride in their accomplishments. And, of course, we know that Cecil and Alis were dedicated to one another. Their love for each other was obvious to all that knew them.

Cecil’s faith was evident in all that he did, and especially in his efforts on behalf of his parish church. Through music and through many other ways, he served to enhance the life of the St. Barnabas community. At the time of his death, for example, Cecil was serving on the building committee which is in the process of planning for new facilities for the parish.

We have much to celebrate today as we give thanks to God for sharing Cecil’s life with us. That, then, is our primary purpose here today.

Still, though we gather to celebrate, because of our sense of loss which we have experienced in his death, this is also a time for grieving, a time for sorrow. That sorrow is far from inappropriate. Even Jesus wept at the news of the death of Lazarus, his friend.

Yet, our sorrow should be for our own loss, and not for Cecil. His faith assured him that death will not have the last word. As the Apostle Paul expressed that faith in his letter to the Church at Rome, nothing can separate us from the love of God, not even death. The Holy Spirit given in baptism is not taken from us, and because we are assured of this we are also assured that we have a share in resurrection life. Cecil knew that promise, and he trusted in God’s faithfulness.

I mentioned earlier Cecil’s skill in marquetry. I first became aware of that extraordinary talent several years ago when I saw a beautiful marquetry box at Cecil and Alis’ house. It was a box that Cecil had made long before. Up to that point whenever I thought about Cecil and music I was much more likely to think baroque rather than folk music, so I was somewhat amused to discover that the box contained one of Cecil’s favorite things: one of his accordions. I mentioned to him a well-known Larsen Far Side cartoon. It contained two panels, one above the other. In the top panel, a line of souls was waiting to enter heaven. St. Peter greeted each person by saying, “Welcome to heaven; here’s your harp.” Then, in the lower panel, a similar line was waiting at the entrance to hell, where they were greeted with the words, “Welcome to hell; here is your accordion.” I think you will probably understand when I say that Cecil hated that particular cartoon. And I suspect that he was absolutely right, as I can only imagine that when he arrived at the gates of heaven God said, “Welcome to heaven; here is your accordion. Forget that nonsense about a joyful noise; let’s go make some glorious music.”

I have to add a word about the boat, as Cecil told it to me. Cecil was in the habit of sailing in Chesapeake Bay with his friend and former mentor, Eugene Helm. One summer in nineteen ninety something they were driving along the eastern shore when they saw a beautiful, but damaged, sailboat landlocked in front of a house. They stopped to inquire and were told that the boat was available at no cost to anyone who could give it a good home. Cecil brought the boat back to Texas and eventually built a shop to house the project it became. I always thought it fitting that the boat was named Desire, since it had called to Cecil in its need, and since that need had ultimately required a response that had to be passed on. Mike Cochran, Cecil’s friend and long time colleague in his many restoration projects, now has Cecil’s shop and the boat and the task of finishing its restoration.