Augustus Moody Burt, III
Remarks by the Rev. C. Waite Maclin at the funeral
April 20, 2012
Augustus Moody Burt, III was a fair man, a good man, a courageous man, a loving man, a sweet man. Moody Burt was my friend and my brother. God how we will miss him!
There is such a deep sadness in saying goodbye to someone for whom the word closeness is inadequate in describing the bond he has had with us his family, his friends, and his colleagues.
So what we are doing on this hard and yet magnificent day is to celebrate and say God Speed to one who had such a profound and lasting effect on all of us.
Can I say right from the start that I cannot believe Moody is gone? We have loved and been connected to each other since we met at Holy Trinity Church Sunday School in Greensboro when we were four. And we have touched each other on so many levels since then.
It is a sublime truth that we understand life and relationships when we tell stories. That is what I want to do tonight. And I hope that at the reception you will share your stories of this good guy as well. For our combined stories give the full measure of this lovely man.
I have to begin by telling one of my earliest memories of Moody. I conned him out of all of his comic books and took them home. About an hour later there was Moody and Mr. Burt at our front door, his dad furious. The comic books were quickly returned, but Moody being Moody all was quickly forgiven. Even with that crime ridden beginning we became the best friends ever!
We have all known him as an easy and gentle person. But also we knew that there was a deep, deep sense of integrity. It was this integrity that I believe drew so many of us to him. IF you crossed a value he held dear he would soon let you know of your misstep.
One of the most wonderful times I spent with Moody was our ten day canoe trip on the Allagash Waterway in Maine. He knew I was a total novice and a clutz about backpacking but that made no difference. HE WAS IN CHARGE! We put in the camp site our first night. As he was preparing dinner I spit on the ground. Moody stopped what he was doing looked at me with fire in his eyes and asked, “Waite do you spit in your kitchen?” “No”, I said. “Well you do not spit in my kitchen!”
Moody’s becoming rector of St. Andrew’s was such a wonderful marriage of priest and people. But here is a little known fact about his becoming rector. It shows so clearly that when he knew what he wanted, nothing would stand in the way. We were both in the running for the position. One night, Moody called and said, “I just want you to know that I mean to become the rector of St. Andrews!” And he did with such a happy result. You are blessed to have had this man as rector all of those years.
I do not think Moody ever fully realized his total impact on others and the communities he served: his sense of social conscience, his honest and human preaching and teaching, his humor which put everything in its proper place (His laugh came from somewhere so deep in his soul), and of course, his genuine love of others and most of all Cathy and Mary Laurel.
Mary Laurel, my earliest memory of you was the day your dad took you and me to a local restaurant/bar and with great pride, just beaming for all to see. He lifted you up on the stool. You sat there talking with and charming everyone around like you owned the place.
I have a sense that Moody being born when his parents were older, knew so well how to make sure that your growing up would be light, full, open and with unlimited possibilities. Whenever we got together, later in life, he always talked of you with the same pride of that little girl on the bar stool.
Whenever I was with Moody, and I wonder if this true for all of you, one’s inner child was allowed to come out and play. You could not feel foolish around him. His enjoyment of you and his love of play opened us all to never take life too seriously. This did not mean that life was not understood in all of its profound parts, but life was seen as the joy and adventure God created it to be. Who but Moody would get me to stand on the roof of the breezeway at our dorm at the Virginia Theological Seminary and throw snow balls at professors and students who dared walk by.
He was a man of faith, but there was not one bit of pretense about that faith in his body or soul. His humanity was there for all to see and follow, BUT he put it all in its proper perspective. For instance he often told of one of his great moments of freedom. After he retired, he was driving to a clergy conference as he had year after year. He said, “I suddenly had an awakening. I never have to do this again! So I turned around and went home.”
Home and Cathy and his personal life were primary. Cathy you have been a rock and partner and because of you, Moody blossomed. And because of Moody, you blossomed. The two of you have had a relationship that was so dear, so tender, so direct, giving each other the freedom to move in whatever directions was best for each one individually and as a team.
Cathy and Mary Laurel, none of us will ever know how hard and painful these last months were for all of you. You and Moody faced it with grace and with courage, allowing the stark reality be honestly present. Through our tears, we honor you.
There is an Irish philosopher, poet and mystic named John O’Donahue who said that we can face any challenge and sorrow if we have somewhere in us something that is beautiful. I do not know of anyone like Moody who so possessed within himself a place for the beautiful. It is because of that we saw our own beauty and thereby loved him so.
I want to close with a poem by John O’Doanhue. It is called Beannacht/Blessing.
Beannacht
("Blessing")
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
~ John O'Donohue ~
(Echoes of Memory)
