Memorial Service, Pastor Bob Curry
Heritage Presbyterian Church
October 20, 1998

Memorial Service
David William Rider

A memorial service was held for David Rider on October 20, 1998, at Heritage Presbyterian Church, Alexandria, Virginia. David Rider was organist and choir director at Heritage and was much loved by the congregation. His exceptional talent and ebullient personality will forever leave a warm spot in the hearts of all who knew him. The sanctuary was filled to capacity with mourners for this wonderful man.

Participants in the service were:

The Reverend Robert C. Curry, Pastor, Heritage Presbyterian Church
The Reverend Lawrence A. Glassco, Pastor Emeritus, Heritage Presbyterian Church
Mrs. Dot Heil, Director of Christian Education, Heritage Presbyterian Church
Chaplain Evangeline Taylor, Apartment & Villas at Ashburn Methodist Village
Mr. Jeff Taylor, Choir Director, Heritage Presbyterian Church
Mr. Ernest Johnson, Choral Director, West Potomac High School
Mr. R. Linwood Copeland, Organist/Choirmaster, St. John's Episcopal Church, Richmond, Virginia
Soundsations from West Potomac High School
Ms. Lisa Taylor, Harpist, Heritage Presbyterian Church
Dr. Jackqueline Arnold, Physician with Wineland, Wilmont & May MDs, Ltd.
Dr. Robert Wineland, Physician with Wineland, Wilmont & May MDs, Ltd.
Mr. John McLellan, the toller of the bells.

David Rider was born in Denver, Colorado on June 8th, 1954. He spent his childhood in Kansas City, Kansas with his parents and older sister Janice. During elementary school, David began to demonstrate talent on both the piano and the organ. He continued his music studies throughout high school. At Ottawa University (Ottawa, Kansas) he majored in music and graduated with a Bachelor’s degree in Church Music – Organ Performance in 1976.

David moved to the Washington DC area in the late 1970s. He has worked for several churches as an organist/choir master during the last 18 years. The churches he served were Mt. Vernon Place United Methodist Church (Washington DC), Wesley United Methodist (Washington DC), Washington Hebrew Congregation, Bethesda Presbyterian, and St. Paul’s Episcopal (Monroe, NC). He was most recently employed as the Director of Music at Heritage Presbyterian Church in Alexandria, VA. David also performed organ recitals in Virginia, North Carolina, Washington DC, and Maryland.

In addition, David served as the Practice Administrator for the pediatric practice of Wineland, Wilmot, and May, MDs Ltd. Prior to that position, David was employed as an administrative assistant for two pipe organ companies: Lewis and Hitchcock and David Nelms and Associates. His memberships in professional organizations were as follows: American Guild of Organists, American Institute of Organbuilders, and the Hymn Society of America.

A memorial concert was held for David Rider on June 6, 1999 at Heritage Presbyterian Church for the dedication of memorial chimes and zimbalstern for the organ. The Requiem by John Rutter was played, in addition to much fine music from soloists and choir.

The chimes and zimbalstern are a most appropriate memorial of David, because they were two additions to the instrument that David wished for. The clarity of the chimes grasps our ears and holds our attention. David made the organ come alive and imparted this feeling to those listening to it. The zimbalstern, on the other hand, is a gentle sound. David's gentle and loving nature is so perfectly reflected in this chosen addition. Together, no more fitting memorial could be found. The congregation expresses its deep appreciation to all who contributed to this marvelous gift to our worship.

Celebration of the life of David William Rider
Heritage Presbyterian Church, October 21, 1998
Pastor Bob Curry

THAT'LL WORK FOR ME

"We know that all things work together for the good for those who love God, who are called according to God's purpose." (Romans 8:28)

We would sit in staff meetings planning our work--what we audaciously called "the work of the kingdom." Sometimes it was no more than picking out the hymns for the services of advent in the heat of the summer; or trying to figure out the movement, the segues, in the drama of worshiping the Lord God. When we hit upon something--a hymn, or a date, or just the right segue, and started handing out assignments--David would take his hand held computer and little pencil and do mysterious things. Then he would state with absolute certainty, "That'll work for me!" We knew with just as much certainty that it would work for us too!

This morning we need to take our palm computers, our little mysterious pencils, and mark down "What'll work for us!" Each of us has to make our own list. From Friday morning until five o'clock this morning I've been trying to figure out what will work for me in moving from disbelief to the reality of David's tragic death.

Listen to the words of Maya Angeluu:

When I think of death, and of late the idea has come with alarming frequency, I seem at peace with the idea that a day will dawn when I will no longer be among those living in this valley of strange humors. I can accept the idea of my own demise, but I am unable to accept the death of anyone else. I find it impossible to let a friend or relative go into that country of no return. Disbelief becomes my close companion, and anger follows in its wake. I answer the heroic question "Death where is thy sting?" with "It is here in my heart and mind and memories." I am besieged with painful awe at the vacuum left by the dead. Where did he go? Where is he now? Are they, as the poet James Weldon Johnson said, "Resting in the bosom of Jesus?" If so, what about my Jewish loves, my Japanese dears, my Muslim darlings. Into whose bosom are they cuddled?

There is always, lurking quietly, the question of what certainty there is, that I, even I, will be gathered into the gentle arms of the Lord. I suspect that only with such blessed assurance will I be able to allow death its duties. I find surcease from the entanglement of questions only when I concede that I am not obliged to know everything. In a world where many desperately seek to know all the answers, it is not very popular to believe and then state, "I do not need to know all things." Also, when I sense myself filling with rage at the absence of a beloved, I try as soon as possible to remember that my concerns and questions, my efforts and answers should be focused on what I did or can learn from my departed love. What legacy was left which can help me in the art of living the good life? If I employ the legacies of my late beloveds, I am certain death will take itself and me as well.

Hey "They work for me!" And what a legacy David has left to help us in the art of living the good life. Make up your own list today and see how quickly anger melts, sorrow recedes, and his joy lights up our lives again and again and again.

The Apostle Paul writes to the early Christians in Rome: "We know that all things work together for good for those who love God and are called to his purpose." Now this may only work for Presbyterians because Paul spends the next several sentences extolling the virtues of what is predestined. But let me help those of you who may not be Presbyterian. We, like Maya Angeluu, don't have to know everything. But, like the Apostle Paul, we know--not have faith, not believe--we know that "it all works together for good" for those who love God... And we know David loved his God. Hey, "That really works for me." But then I'm a Presbyterian--and David was just about to become one--so I can assure you he could say with great confidence. "Hey, that works for me!"

There is a marvelous word in the New Testament the word "paraclyte". It means, "one called along side of". I like the literal translation because it describes action: we have a God who does not leave us alone! There is this one called along side of us who works with us, lives with us, supports us, walks with us. Jesus assured his disciples that he would not leave them alone. There would be this paraclyte--this comforter, this helper this one they could call along side them whenever there was need.

Night and day we have called on that paraclyte since last Friday; and hey, "It has worked for us."

At the cemetery for the service of Jewish friend, the casket was carried from the roadside to the graveside and three times it stopped. I assumed, it stopped for the pallbearers to rest. Not so, said the rabbi, when the service began at graveside. He said, "You may have noticed we stopped three times on the way to this graveside. You may ask why? Because we do not want to be here. We would turn and run from this place. But we cannot."

There is not one of us here this morning who wants to be here. I didn't want to be here so bad that I couldn't even put the right date on the outside of the bulletin cover. It is still yesterday. I don't want Bob Copeland at that organ. I want David. I want him there at the consol. But what we want will never again be.

My dear, dear friends, we affirm with a hope that is sure, a faith that is profound and a love that has a model: "If we live, we live for the Lord. If we die, we die for the Lord. So whether we live or die, we are the Lords."

"That works for me."     "That'll work for David."

Amen.

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