Homily for Jan Mauldin, February 13, 2026, 1 p.m. Saint Mark’s Episcopal Church
We first met Jan Mauldin in December 1982, when we hosted a supper at our home for Saint Mark’s members, who had been confirmed that night at a central Arkansas confirmation service at Trinity Cathedral. Jan is the only person I remember from that evening meal of red beans and rice. She was quiet, kind, and engaging, and seemed unusually excited to have had Bishop Herbert Donovan lay hands on her head at Trinity. This is the Jan I hear people continue to talk about over forty years later. She made an immediate impression on you. This is the loving, caring Jan we all have known in every ministry at this church, the altar guild, the Daughters of the King, Women’s Bible Study, Episcopal Church Women, funerals, Walking the Mourner’s Path, her Christ Care Group, the Community of Hope,/ and, in addition,/ being Saint Mark’s bookkeeper. I wonder how many churches have their bookkeeper attend every staff meeting? Every ministry Jan was involved in was carried out with a kind, quiet, forgiving, sacred care./
After Jan’s son, Mason, was tragically killed in a plane crash at age 31 in January 2013, Jan participated in our grief support group called Walking the Mourner’s Path. Soon after that, she became a facilitator in all the following Mourner’s Path groups to be present with others who had experienced the death of a loved one. It was a privilege to watch Jan at these groups. She knew what the participants were going through. She rarely spoke up,/ but would sit with a different participant each week, simply being a presence with them. This may be what best describes Jan. She taught us about being a presence,/ a presence of love. We cannot console those who mourn with words,/ but we can bring a presence, a loving presence,/ and sit or walk or stand beside those who mourn. Jan modeled this for us. And Gail, Greg, Mark, Dayna, and Damon,/ that is what we each hope to be doing for you today: simply learning from your older sister,/ your amazing Mom, who taught us through her daily life about being a loving presence. I speak especially to Jan’s four grandchildren, Mel, Natalie, Tyson, and Collins, who affectionately called her by the best name ever, “Gran/Jan.” GranJan. We all have heard when your birthday or a graduation or a sports event or a recital or a play was coming up, because Jan loved to talk about it/ before and after. She was devoted to you and so proud of each of you. /
And we also speak to the host of other family members here. We do not know your faces, but we definitely know your names. Jan, who was your surrogate mother or grandmother, constantly told stories about you, her family, concerts, beach trips, camping, amazing trips, especially airport adventures, and how she dearly loved each of you. /
When I heard I was preaching this homily for Jan, I sat down, cried, and said, “I can’t do it.” Jan is too much like family. Indeed, Jan considered this church her family. Shortly after that, I heard on Little Rock’s classical music station one of my and our choir’s favorite anthems from Brahms’s German Requiem, “How Lovely Are Thy Dwelling Places.” Tim Allen tells me Brahms wrote this moving requiem funeral service after the death of his mother. Could this have been a message telling us about Jan’s new presence? Somehow, the music immediately calmed my soul.//
St. Paul describes death as one great hard truth we will all eventually feel. He goes further to call this truth the “sting” of death, which is an understatement for those of us who have been mourning Jan these past few days.
The hardness of this truth/ is a prelude/ to the greatest truth, which is that in death, Jan’s life is changed, but not ended,/ and the change is even better. And this is another understatement. That was the kind, loving message I heard from Brahms and maybe, the Holy Spirit through Jan earlier this week. “How Lovely Are Thy Dwelling Places.” I pray you feel that great truth this early afternoon, and if not now, then expect it at your most needed moments in the future.1
We know only a few things about the life in the resurrection that Jan is experiencing. “In my Father's house, there are many dwelling places. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” Henri Nouwen2 writes that this passage from John 14 that Michael just read tells us that death for Jesus was a way of getting from one place to another. Death was not an ending for Jesus, but a passage to something greater for him/ and for us./ We know from Dayna and Damon that their Mom knew this./ Jan told them she did not fear death and looked forward to being with Mason. /
As I felt Jan’s presence on Monday, I was reminded that her presence and her love have moved to a new place, yet, in some strange way, her presence and her love are still present with us today./ All of this is a great mystery that will probably only be answered when we see Jesus face to face.
Scripture tells us love never dies. Jan’s love is still present with us. Her life is changed,/ not ended./ Our love for her also never dies. And Jan carries our love for her into the resurrection life, where Love lives eternally./ Death is not a period at the end of a sentence, but more like a comma. The God of our understanding does not give us the depth of such love as Jan’s and let it abruptly come to an end. It is still here,/ surrounding us by all those who received the love she shared with us in her presence./
Truly, Jan’s gift to each of us was the great truth of how presence and love/ can change the world, /one person at a time./ Many have described being in Jan’s presence as if Jan were unconsciously directly saying to them, “I think /I like your soul/ the way it is.” This is unconditional love. Jan looked for and saw the light of Christ/ in each of us/ and reflected it back to us. ///
Our prayer3 today is to our eternal God, who loves us with a greater love than we can know or understand. We give praise and thanks for your servant, Jan, who now is in the larger life of your heavenly Presence, who on this earth was a tower of strength to all of us, who stood by us with her presence and love, who looked not at outward appearances/ but lovingly into the hearts of men and women,/ whose loyalty was steadfast, and whose joy it was to know more about you and be of service./ May Jan continue to find abiding peace and wisdom in your heavenly kingdom, and that/ with your help,/ we may carry forward Jan’s unfinished ministry of presence and love on this earth,/ one person at a time,/ through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
1Christoph Keller, III, Funeral Sermon for Monty Scott, January 24, 2016.
2Henri Nouwen in Finding My Way Home, Pathway to Life and the Spirit (2004).
3 J. B. Bernardin Burial Services p. 117
Joanna Seibert