73. The Bluebird of Happiness

Remarks I gave at the funeral service for Barbara Jean Fraughton Lange (1928–1994) held on Monday, February 28, 1994, in the Mueller Park Ninth Ward, Bountiful Utah Mueller Park Stake. Grandma Lange had passed away the previous Thursday, February 24, at the age of 65. This talk was transcribed from a recording of the funeral and published in the March 7, 1994, issue of the Family Journal. Elder Dallin H. Oaks of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles and his wife were present at the funeral. June Dixon Oaks was Barbara Lange’s first cousin.

And no matter what you have,
Don't envy those you meet.
It's all the same; it's in the game:
The bitter and the sweet.
And if things don't look so cheerful,
Just show a little fight.
For every bit of darkness,
There is a little bit of light;
For every bit of hatred,
There's a little bit of love;
For every cloudy morning
There's a midnight moon above.

So don't you forget, you must search
Until you find the Bluebird.
You will find peace and contentment forever
If you will be like I,
Hold your head up high
Till you see a ray of light and cheer,
And so remember this:
Life is no abyss;
Somewhere there's a Bluebird of Happiness.

Those words fit Grandma. Whoever wrote that song must have known her because her life was filled with usefulness and purpose. She loved people. She loved doing things for them. I think she was the Bluebird of Happiness.

Most of you probably won't be able to see these if you're past about the second row, but if you've ever been in her home in the last couple of years you've seen on the mantle these little blue birds, which I think are a fitting symbol of the kind of life that she led.

She received a patriarchal blessing in March 1949. That was just a few months before she married Marvin. And the patriarch promised her, "Your counsel will be sought after by your associates and your influence will always be for good." I think this roomful of people—and many others who would be here if they could have been—is evidence that that promise was fulfilled. Her influence has always been for good. Last night at the viewing someone (I don’t remember who) talked about the good memories that people will have of Barbara Lange, the good memories that she leaves in the minds and the hearts and the lives of everyone who knew her. And I don't know of anyone who will have bad memories of her, but the memories will be sweet and hallowed and precious.

Elder Neal A. Maxwell once wrote, "The very usefulness of our lives depends upon our willingness to serve others" (Even As I Am, 62).

By that standard, the life of Barbara Jean Fraughton Lange was preeminently useful. And if we are to learn anything from her life, and the example she’s left, and the counsel she's given, we will go and do the same. We will have a willingness to serve others and bless their lives and cheer their days and soothe their hurts and encourage their best efforts. Her grandchildren, in whose lives she most delighted, knew that she was their greatest benefactor, their greatest sponsor, their best friend.

She had a fourth-great-grandfather by the name of Charles Dixon who was born in England in 1730. He immigrated to the new world in 1772. That was four years before the beginning of the American Revolution. And he lived until 1817, which was three years before Joseph Smith went into the grove of trees near Palmyra, New York, and had the First Vision. And sometime between when he came to New Brunswick, Canada, in 1772, sometime between then and his death in 1817, he wrote a letter to his son Charles. And among the things that were in it, he wrote a bit of what I think is very profound counsel to his son, and by extension to his posterity clear down to this day—200 years later.

And this is the quote: "Be thou not high minded, but remember the rock from whence thou wast hewn, and in future times, when I and thy mother shall be called home, and rest in the silent grave, you may remember, that for your sakes we crossed the ocean. See that you outstrip us in purity of heart and holiness of life. . . . Acquaint yourselves with God and be at peace—at peace with yourselves and with all men, and may the God of Peace be with you evermore."

What a sermon in just a few short sentences! That would be the wish of every righteous parent for their children and their grandchildren: See that you outstrip us in purity of heart and holiness of life. Acquaint yourselves with God. Be at peace with all men. And may the God of Peace be with you evermore.

Nearly 21 years ago Barbara Lange became a grandmother with the birth of our oldest son, Michael, who of all of her posterity is the only one not with us here today. He is serving a mission in Brazil.

And being a grandmother seemed to suit her well. (I’m not at that phase of life quite yet, but I understand that grandchildren are much more delightful than children.) But she was always involved in their lives, doing things for them, supporting them, attending their games and activities, baking lasagna for them for their birthdays if they wanted it, showering them with generous Christmas gifts, spoiling them in ways that parents can't and aren't supposed to but grandmothers can—and can get away with.

For many years, while they still lived in California, she was fortunate to be close to David and Janice and their children. And these past six or seven years, we've been delighted to have them here close to us since they moved back to Utah.

And though she never actually lived in our ward, the other night, Thursday night, when I told our bishop that she had died, because she had been there so many times when the children gave talks in church or had Primary activities or other things going on, and she was always there, our bishop said, "That’s like losing a member of our ward." (And many of them would have been here today, but we had a neighbor die in our ward the very same day, and his funeral is happening at this very same hour.)

I mentioned that her oldest grandson isn’t here today. But in a manner of speaking, he is. We aren’t even sure if he knows yet that his grandmother has died. But on Saturday, last Saturday his dear friend Shauna shared with us a letter that he had written earlier this month. And I'd like to quote just a couple paragraphs from that letter. This was written on the fifth of February, one day before he was transferred to his present assignment, which is about a thousand miles from his mission headquarters in the Amazon jungle of Brazil.

"Today I attended my first (and hopefully only) Brazilian funeral. One of the two stake presidents [here] died suddenly early Friday morning." And then he goes on and gives some details about that.

"This morning was the funeral. Elder Fails and I went with President and Sister Francesconi. The chapel was pretty much filled to capacity. I was surprised at how fast news travels. In Brazil they have to bury the body within 24 to 36 hours. . . . The service was very nice. President spoke, the bishop spoke, and his wife was the last speaker. I think that would take a lot of courage and strength to speak at your spouse’s funeral. Especially when it was such a surprise. She’s probably 37. They’d been married [only] 7 years or so. They have two children, ages 5 and 4.

"The closing hymn was 'Families Can Be Together Forever.'" And then he quotes the words of that song, all in Portuguese, but I'll translate them for you:

I have a family here on earth.
They are so good to me.
I want to share my life with them
Through all eternity.

Families can be together forever
Through Heavenly Father’s plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
And the Lord has shown me how I can.
The Lord has shown me how I can.

While I am in my early years,
I'll prepare most carefully,
So I can marry in God's temple
For eternity.

Families can be together forever
Through Heavenly Father's plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
And the Lord has shown me how I can.
The Lord has shown me how I can.

And after quoting that, he says: "And it was strange. Sitting there at the funeral singing the song. Many people singing with tears in their eyes. In a chapel in Brazil. Then we went to the cemetery. The funeral procession consisted of a VW-Van thingy with the coffin and three busses that had been rented to help take the people who didn't own a car."

And then he says, "To back track momentarily, the closing song." [And I should mention, well it's been announced already, the grandchildren are going to sing this as part of the closing song] "As it was being sung I had wave after wave of tingling-shivers come over me. It was as if even here when a friend and a leader had passed on to the other side of the veil, and though all were saddened I just seemed to realize even more that yes, families can be forever. And most everyone else there knew that. And that brought a comfort that the vast majority of people don't know. And I also realized how important it was to live a life correctly so that we can be worthy to qualify for those blessings. That's why the ordinances and covenants of the gospel are so vital and important. And therein lies the profoundness of the simplicity of the gospel."

And then he talks about the experience of going to the cemetery and watching the burial: "And both Elder Fails and I felt as if we were caught up in some weird whirlwind time-warp. As if everything was happening in a film, and we were there watching it all happen, but as if we weren't at the same time, and as if no one else could see us. It was a very strange sensation that I don't know if I'd ever be able to accurately put into words.

"It’s funny how our lives weave patterns into the lives of so many others in ways often so deep and profound that we aren't even aware of the influence we have (for good or bad). The whole funeral was one of those quiet moments when the vastness of eternity seemed to distill on my soul. And it made me realize how ungrateful we really are as people, and how we really should treasure life, even the small simple daily things. I have been so richly blessed and I feel so undeserving and as if I am so ungrateful."

We are so amazingly blessed that I sometimes wonder if we don't take for granted what we've been given. Certainly we do in our relationships with each other. And often we do it with the marvelous insights and blessings and knowledge the Lord has revealed to us.

One of the great blessings we enjoy as Latter-day Saints is the knowledge we receive from the Holy Ghost that God really lives. Much of the world does not know that He lives. And even those who believe in God do not know much about Him or what He is like. And yet we read in the holy scriptures where Jesus the night before He was crucified prayed to His Father and said, "And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent" (John 17:3).

Back in January 1988, a little over six years ago, I asked my three youngest children, then six-year-old Camilla, four-year-old Eliza, and three-year-old Mary what they knew about Heavenly Father and Jesus. And with a little prompting, they came up with these answers:

"Heavenly Father loves children.
"He's a friend of us.
"He gives us good food. And our house.
"Jesus was born on Christmas in Bethlehem.
"Mary was the mother of Jesus.
"Heavenly Father was the father of Jesus.
"Heavenly Father is kind.
"He made the world.
"He is the father of our spirits.
"We lived with Him before we were born.
"We lived with both Heavenly Father and Jesus.
"We can become like Them.
"They want us to be happy.
"We can be happy by keeping God's commandments.
"They like us a lot.
"He wants us for a sunbeam. To shine for Him each day.
"And be good."

Now let's talk for a moment about the timing of her passing. To us it seemed so unexpected; it caught us off guard. Just last Wednesday, the evening before she died, Grandma had prepared dinner and brought it to our house, and we had a lovely meal and visit together. And that was so like Grandma. And then the next evening she was gone.

But death, sooner or later, comes to each of us. And in her case, as the bishop intimated and as I firmly believe, I think she did have a feeling, perhaps not consciously, but an intimation that she was leaving us.

Another interesting promise from her patriarchal blessing: "You will fill your mission upon the earth and will live until it is fully accomplished, and you will find great joy and satisfaction in it."

She did find joy and satisfaction in blessing the lives of other people. Surely that was much of what her mission was all about, and she lived until she accomplished it fully. She had done all that was required of her. She had passed the test. She had finished the race. There was no more to be done.

Earth life is a school. We can understand that. Elder Orson F. Whitney, who was a member of the Council of Twelve Apostles at the first part of this century, taught, "This earth was made for God's children, his spirit sons and daughters, who take bodies and pass through the experiences of joy and sorrow for their development and education, and to demonstrate through time's vicissitudes that they will be true to God and do all that he requires at their hands.

"When we have done the things that we were sent to do, when we have gained all the experience that this life affords, then is the best time to depart. School being out, why not go home? The mission ended, why not return? That is what death means to a Latter-day Saint. The only sad thing about it is parting with the loved ones who go, . . . but it is simply a passing into the spirit world, to await the resurrection, when our bodies and spirits will be reunited—the righteous to enjoy the presence of God. . . .

"If we can be patient and resigned, and by God's help do his holy will, all will come out well. Trials purify us, educate us, develop us." And I might say parenthetically Grandma had her share of those with the health challenges she experienced.

"Trials purify us, educate us, develop us. The great reason why [we were] placed upon the earth was that [we] might become like [our] Father and [our] God. That is why we are here, children at school. What matters it when school is out and the time comes to go back home?" (Improvement Era, Nov. 1918, 9–11).

There's a revelation in the Doctrine and Covenants that has been referred to as the Law of the Mourner. Prefacing it the Lord talks about if there any who are sick, we are to call for the elders of the Church, and they are to come and administer to them, and if they're not appointed unto death then they'll be healed, but He says if they die they die unto Me, and if they live they live unto Me (see D&C 42:44).

And this is the part I wanted to read particularly, "Thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die [and so the Lord sanctions that, commands it I think—thou shalt live together in love, insomuch that thou shalt weep for the loss of them that die], and more especially for those that have not hope of a glorious resurrection.

"And it shall come to pass that those that die in me shall not taste of death, for it shall be sweet unto them" (D&C 42:45–46).

I think Grandma, Barbara Lange, has died in the Lord. Her death, her passing was certainly sweet. It was peaceful. And though it's hard, it was right, and we can all feel that. Her time had come.

The Apostle John in the book of Revelation uses this same phrase: Blessed are they that die in me, that "die in the Lord," for "they . . . rest from their labours; and their works do follow them" (Revelation 14:13).

What do we mean? What does that expression mean—they who die in the Lord?

Elder Bruce R. McConkie speaking at a funeral once made these comments. He quoted first from the Psalms, "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints" (Psalm 116:15). Now, that's an interesting way of putting it: precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.

"Now does that do something to death in the eternal perspective of things? Precious unto the Lord is the death of his saints! Not something that brings sorrow and anguish and anxiety into the soul, but something that announces a reward and a triumph and the beginning of a day of glory and peace and reward. Something that indicates that a soul has come from the presence of God and passed through a mortal probation and ended dying in the Lord. Or, in other words, ended life having kept the faith.

"Now the people that die in the Lord are the people that keep the faith but are not [yet] perfect. They are not perfect many of them by any manner of means. There was only one perfect being and that was the Lord Jesus Christ, and if you had to be perfect in this life to gain salvation there would only be one saved person. Now, yes, they become perfect eventually in eternity, but as pertaining to this life they die in the faith, in the Lord” (Bruce R. McConkie, funeral sermon for Wilford Payne, Dec. 6, 1982).

And I'm skipping some of what Elder McConkie said. He quotes Paul writing to Timothy, and he says that this applies to every righteous person that goes out of this life:

"I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:

"Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love his appearing" (2 Timothy 4:7–8).

"Now that is the benediction spoken or unspoken that in thought content is in the heart and the mind and the soul of every person who departs this life in the faith, who dies in the Lord.

"What we do in this life is to chart a course leading to eternal life. That means we believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. We are baptized for the remission of sins. We receive by the laying on of hands the gift of the Holy Ghost, which is the right to the constant companionship of that member of the Godhead based on faithfulness, and then we struggle and labor and strive to endure to the end, to keep the commandments after baptism" (Payne funeral sermon).

As Nephi said, we "press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men" (2 Nephi 31:20). And we feast upon the words of Christ. Then He gave a glorious promise to those who so do: "Thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life" (2 Nephi 31:20).

"Now this is what is expected of us: to chart a course leading to eternal life. And then if we are on the course and in the path and struggling and striving and trying to do what we best can [as Barbara Lange was clearly doing], if we are trying to utilize the talents that the Lord has given us [as she was clearly doing], and we depart this life still on the path, having died in the faith, it is as though at that moment our calling and election is made sure, because no one departs from the path after this life if he died in the Lord.

"Now I am not saying that all people are equal in the eternal worlds," Elder McConkie continues, "neither in the spirit world, nor in the resurrection. The Prophet told us that 'whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection' (D&C 130:18), that if a man [or a woman] 'gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the advantage in the world to come' (D&C 130:19).

"But what I am saying is that if we believe the gospel and if we enter into the eternal covenants, chiefly and primarily marriage, and if we strive and struggle and keep the faith and are doing the best we can, though we haven't attained the perfection that ultimately is our potential, if we go forward and die in the Lord, we filled the measure of our creation, and what more can we ask" (Payne funeral sermon).

I think that’s exactly where we are with Grandma.

In behalf of the family, I would express appreciation to any and all who have helped during these last five days. And to many who will yet help in countless ways in future days. The Lord will bless your quiet, kindly deeds.

We quoted earlier from Elder Orson F. Whitney. He said, "A funeral sermon is not for the benefit of the departed; rather it is for the good of those who remain. The dead, as we call them—though they are no more dead than we are, and are as much alive now as ever—are [simply] beyond our reach, just as they are beyond our vision. We cannot add to anything that they have done, nor can we take anything away. They have made their record and are in the keeping of a higher Power. But we can do something to comfort those who mourn, and by acts of kindness lessen human suffering. [And have you ever known anyone who by acts of kindness lessened human suffering more than Barbara Lange did?] Our Father in heaven expects this at our hands" (Improvement Era, Nov. 1918, 3).

Well, Grandma has made her record. She is in the keeping of a higher Power, even the Father of us all.

President Ezra Taft Benson has taught that nothing will startle us more when we pass through the veil, as Grandma has now done, to realize how well we know our Heavenly Father and how familiar His face will be to us.

So we don't mourn for her; we mourn for us. And it's all right that we do so: for as we quoted earlier, the Lord has commanded that we are to "weep for the loss of them that die" (D&C 42:45).

There is something sanctifying about a funeral, especially the funeral of a faithful person, like Grandma, because (as Elder McConkie taught on a similar occasion), "it is an occasion for us to be reminded of the eternal things that are involved in life and how thin the veil is and of how gracious and wondrous it is that a noble soul has gone on and, as a consequence, for us to make the determinations that we need to make so that we can be as they were" (Payne funeral sermon).

The words of a hymn express the thoughts of all of us:

Each life that touches ours for good
Reflects thine own great mercy, Lord;
Thou sendest blessings from above
Thru words and deeds of those who love.

What greater gift dost thou bestow,
What greater goodness can we know
Than Christlike friends, whose gentle ways
Strengthen our faith, enrich our days.

When such a friend from us departs,
We hold forever in our hearts
A sweet and hallowed memory,
Bringing us nearer, Lord, to thee.

For worthy friends whose lives proclaim
Devotion to the Savior’s name,
Who bless our days with peace and love,
We praise thy goodness, Lord above.
(Karen Lynn Davidson, Hymns [1985], 293)

God lives. As Elder Marion D. Hanks taught so eloquently in his final address in general conference as a General Authority, "To believe in God is to know that all the rules will be fair and there will be wonderful surprises" (Ensign, Nov. 1992, 65).

And to us, with our understanding, this may not seem like a wonderful surprise—a surprise, but maybe not wonderful. But try to imagine the wonderful surprise it's been for her in meeting again her parents, her sister, and many, many loved ones who have gone on before her. All the rules will be fair and there will be wonderful surprises.

God lives. He’s given us a plan for our happiness. He sent His Son to make it all effective by working out the atoning sacrifice. And He has so graciously and kindly revealed it to us all in this day, together with all the ordinances and everything that makes it possible.

We can be grateful that we have known and been touched by and influenced by the life of Barbara Lange. We will miss her deeply. It’s appropriate that we should. But she would want us to go on and live our lives by the example she gave us.

In fact, I don't know if it's appropriate in a funeral sermon to give you an assignment, but I'm going to give you an assignment, because she would want you to do this: Before this day is over I want each of you who is here to go out and hug someone and to tell them you love them and to be nice to people and to be the kind of Christian, gentle, wonderful folk that she was, that we should be, and that our Heavenly Father expects of us. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.