Susan 'Momma Sue' File

Susan Elizabeth File passed unexpectedly and peacefully in her sleep at her home in Fishers, Indiana at the age of 51, Thursday, March 31. Born April 1, 1959 in Detroit, Michigan to James and Ruth Hebden, she was a graduate of Hillsdale College receiving a Bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education. She taught at St. Louis de Montfort preschool before opening her own in-home daycare which she ran until the time of her death. She married Kenneth Allen File of Beloit, Kansas on April 25, 1987, making their home in Fishers, Indiana. Into this union were born three daughters, Charlotte Ruth, 22 of Orlando, Florida, Claire Elizabeth 20, and Hannah Jane, 17. She is also survived by her father James R. Hebden of Indianapolis, her sister Mary Ann Hill of Mountainside, New Jersey, and her brother James R. Hebden, Jr. of Farmington Hills, MI. She was preceded in death by her mother, Ruth Hebden. Sue’s interests were whatever her children’s were and she actively supported them serving as an officer or director on the boards of several of their local club organizations. Her greatest achievement was her unconditional love for family and friends and the mentoring she provided for hundreds of young people. Her Momma Sue brand of advice was an inspiration to all who knew her. Never seeking the limelight, her love for fun, a good story, laughter and life she still managed to capture the attention of all those around her. She documented it all through her camera and Facebook. Visitation will be from 2 pm until 6 pm, Sunday, April 3, at Flanner and Buchanan Funeral Center – Carmel. The Burial Service and Eucharist in Celebration of Susan’s life will be 10 am Monday, April 4, at Christ Church Cathedral, 125 Monument Circle. Interment will follow at Crown Hill Cemetery. Susan’s family suggests that memorial gifts take the form of contributions to The Delta Tau Delta Educational Foundation File Scholarship for Undergraduate Excellence at 10000m Allisonville Rd Fishers, IN 46038 or The Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. Friends are encouraged to share their thoughts with her family by visiting: www.flannerbuchanan.com Homily for the Life of Susan Elizabeth File The Reverend Canon Gray Lesesne April 4, 2011 John 5:24-27 Jesus said, "Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.” According to Ken and Charlotte and Claire and Hannah, if Sue were here this morning, she would be appalled at the attention and visibility she is receiving. Always the one behind the camera, always the one who was the manager and preparer, always the vivacious life of the party just behind the scenes, now Sue is squarely before us. And perhaps the hardest part about this morning is that this time, Momma Sue is not whirling about mixing up joy and carrying on with her friendly and funny banter. She is not walking around in her signature nightgown and fuzzy socks, which you might likely encounter her wearing anytime you were visiting her at home, with her signature Diet Coke from Speedway or Hardee’s in hand. We do not see her in the same way this morning. Instead, we come together today to grieve for her. That is the hard part about today. Even though we can know in our heads that Sue is with the God who knitted her together in her mother Ruth’s womb, that Sue is rejoicing in heaven with Ruth and all the saints, that Sue is risen with her Savior Jesus Christ—even though we know these things in our heads, perhaps our hearts do not feel joyful in this present moment? Our hearts ache, at a life taken so unexpectedly, for a mother and wife who still had years of love to give, for a teacher and nurturer and friend to many who still had many hugs to dole out and shoulders to cry on. So let us take a moment to grieve. This is a deeply profound loss, of the most significant kind, not only for Sue’s wonderful family, but also for her extended family of friends that fills this Cathedral this morning. I loved hearing from Charlotte and Claire and Hannah about how they would be out and text their friends to ask: “What are you up to?” And their friends would reply: “Hanging out at your house, with Sue.” People flocked to her; wherever Sue was, that’s where the fun was. If we try this morning to simply paper over what will be a huge hole in our lives with platitudes or nice words, then we are fooling ourselves. And I suspect that if Sue were here, plainspoken truth teller that she was, she’d tell us the same thing. If we can get honest with each other and with God about how we are feeling this morning—hurt, sad, angry, confused, broken, then I believe we will find the hope we are looking for, as well. For Sue, being a person of deep faith meant that nothing, nothing was off limits between her and God. (Can you imagine God trying to stop her once she had her mind made up?) How do I know this? Because she exemplified this holy way of living her life. Nobody was a stranger to her, If she didn’t know you, she’d walk right up to you and say: “I don’t know you, come tell me about yourself.” By the end of the night, you were friends with Momma Sue. She welcomed people who had nowhere else to go into her home—even those people others had written off. She Facebook friended everyone (maybe you were one of her friends?) and carried on with Claire’s Purdue friends’ parents like they had been best friends all their life. This deep faith in God and an openness to all people led Sue to journey to the hard places of life with other people, and journey to hard places in her own life. And yet, because Sue was a person of faith, nothing was off limits between Sue and God, or between Sue and anyone else. And so many of us could probably hear Sue say to us this morning: bring your grief here. Let it out. Because for Sue, grief did not hold the last word. For Sue, death did not hold the last word. We just read aloud the Gospel passage that Sue and her siblings and Jim chose for their mother Ruth’s burial, which took place here in this Cathedral almost 15 years ago to the day. And we intentionally kept that Gospel passage from John because in it lies the heart of Sue’s faith, no doubt a deep, abiding faith she learned as a girl from Ruth and Jim: Jesus said, "Very truly, I tell you, anyone who hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life, and does not come under judgment, but has passed from death to life.” Sue heard the word of God—the Word of Jesus Christ, the word which is love. She believed in the word of God—the Word of Jesus Christ, the word which is love. She lived the word of God—the Word of Jesus Christ, which is love. Whether you were the Hispanic lady running the Hardee’s drive-thru Sue befriended on her daily Diet Coke runs, or a student playing joyfully in Miss Sue’s in-home daycare, or one of Charlotte, Claire, or Hannah’s friends who had escaped your crazy parents for a little TLC over at the File’s house, Sue loved you, unconditionally. That is Holiness. That is Godliness. That is passing over from death into life. That is the essence of Jesus Christ himself. This morning, it’s strange: we gather today to grieve at the power that death holds over us. But we also gather to celebrate that death now has no power over Sue. Because Jesus Christ is risen from the dead, so too has Sue risen with her Savior. The halls of heaven today are rejoicing, for Sue is now among the great company of saints, entertaining them all with her signature laugh that ends with an abrupt snort. In a moment, we will join with Sue and Ruth and all of these saints and angels who have gone before us in a heavenly feast, the divine banquet of Holy Communion. In the Episcopal Church, we never take up an offering of money to present on the Altar at funerals (after all, Sue would be aghast at such a thing). But, today, instead, I invite us to make an offering from our hearts when the Dean invites us to “Lift up your hearts” and we say “We lift them to the Lord.” Let us offer up our hearts to God, full of grief and sadness, full of joy and wonder and love for Sue, but also full of hope and trust that nothing will separate us from the love of God. And God will come to us with an assurance that He is with us in all things, even in this most difficult moment. Even if you don’t normally receive Communion in your own church, even if you haven’t been to Communion in years, for whatever reason, today, I urge you to come and be a part of this Holy meal—all are welcome here at this table. Come and eat plentifully and drink richly, for in this meal, God will present himself to us and become a part of us in the gift of Christ’s body and blood, the gifts of bread and wine given for us. And because Sue is with God now, and because Sue is a part of God now, and because we believe God is with us now in the bread and wine, Sue will become a part of us, and we will be a part of her. Jim, Ken, Mary Ann, James, Charlotte, Claire, and Hannah: take this moment. Look around, see how many of us are here today to love and support you. We will come to this Holy Table with you, we will take and eat the gifts of Christ’s body and blood with you, we will feast with you and Sue and all the saints. And we promise to go forth and share her story—a story of love, joy, resurrection, hope. In that, there is no grief, only new life. Alleluia.