Russell ’s Story

Site created on November 15, 2020

Welcome to our CaringBridge website. We are using it to keep family and friends updated in one place. We appreciate your support and words of hope and encouragement. Thank you for visiting.

Newest Update

Journal entry by Susie Ries

In this post are:

1) the link to Russell's burial service, in case you missed it or would like to hear it again:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c5W0xhRIzFQ

2) the sermon and

3) the link to the recording of the zoom visitation that followed the service. It is a very large file (11.6GB). It will take a long time (hours) to download. I’d suggest starting the download at a time you don’t need your computer for anything else for a few hours.

Here's the sermon, below that is the link to the visitation:

The Very Reverend Timothy E. Kimbrough
Christ Church Cathedral
Nashville, TN
January 16, 2021

Sermon from the Burial Service for Russell Ries

“The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end.” Leviticus 3:22

That was the opening verse from the OT passage read just now. The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. It is so. I believe it. I hold to it and yet everything about the last eight weeks has challenged this tenet of faith. If the steadfast love of the LORD never ceases then how is it that someone like Russell — with all his gifts and talents and grace — might receive a diagnosis like he did two months ago? And if the mercies of the LORD never come to an end, then how is it, that Russell is so soon taken away from us?

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. Do not imagine that this is a paradox to be resolved in the next few minutes or, for that matter, over the course of a lifetime. Instead let us linger with the life of the man and the breadth of God’s grace long enough to appreciate the full weight of this paradox—the paradox of loss and hope.

Go where you will to develop the storehouse of vocabulary with which you will tell the story of Russell’s lifetime and you will commonalities everywhere: Model human being, Boy scout who exemplified the best of the program. Family man. Outstanding in his profession. All of that before you get to the grain of one’s specific encounter with Russell. One detail, however, that jumped out at me that added new depth to his story, a detail I hadn’t known about Russell and wouldn’t have had any reason to know: right there at the beginning of his obituary, in the first paragraph naming his parents (Herbert and Marjorie) and birthplace (Union City, TN), it was noted that Russell was born prematurely. 3 lbs., 3 oz. Look at your hand for just a moment. 3 lbs., 3 oz is about the size of one and a half hands, larger than just your hand, smaller than your forearm.

All that strength. All of that love. All of that wisdom from his first 3lbs., 3oz. It might have made some feisty. It might have made some anxious. It might have disadvantaged others — that pre-mature birth. But Russell somehow became persistent, devoted, loyal, determined — all of which may have been connected to his sooner than expected birth.

To read what his colleagues and friends had to say and write about him only expands the hagiography being written about Dr. Ries: He was level-headed, peaceful, honest, kind, had a great sense of humor, gentle, loved. He was calm. He was my friend and mentor. He knew where the best tacos in town could be found. Each of

the testimonials included in the journal created for him by friends and colleagues and entitled, “Quick, Bird-like movements” — check with a colleague for an explanation of the title. Many attribute their passion for their own pursuit of a career in medicine to Russell’s mentorship. One entry specifically thanked Russell for always creating a “relaxed and safe operating room” — a relaxed and safe operating room. What a tribute, especially in these turbulent times.

A man such as this is gone too soon. Loving God, help me square this with your grace.

The devotion of family to Russell tells its own story. Their presence at his side in his last days. The certain contact by phone and video call for those at a distance. The knowing look of those who had years of Russell’s hand at their backs, these are the actions of those who love and are loved. You can’t develop that within a family overnight. The eyes that carry joy and grief in equal parts are those that have seen the man at his best and at his worst over the course of a lifetime. Accomplishment, tragedy, mistake, forgiveness, and the devotion to love even when undeserved—these endear the father to sons and daughter. These bind husband and wife together. These make mythic the grandfather and confirm his place as elder in the family that respects wisdom, experience, and heart-felt loyalty.

A man such as this is gone too soon. Loving God, what is the path forward?

For me, Russell, was among other things, the man who stayed after Sunday School was over to ask the question that typically got right to the heart of the matter.
It was never rhetorical. It was never asked for the purpose of building the reputation of the one with the question. Instead he always worked to engage the subject, the topic, the presentation, in the attempt to figure out what it might mean for his faith.

This might surprise you: In that book of testimonials written by men and women of science celebrating the life of a man of science (at the top of his field). Most entries — I would venture 3 out of every 4 entries—make mention of God or prayer or quotes a verse from Scripture. Something about who Russell was elicited reference to the Great Mystery, to the Creator, to the One from whom all life proceeded. I loved that.

When Christians gather to bury their loved ones, we celebrate the life of the one who has died. We hold each other in our grief — accentuated today by the sudden loss of Russell. But we will not leave the room without claiming our hope that death is not the final word.

We could do so simply imploring those who remain to remember the one who has died. Beethoven did this in his closing years in a letter to his younger brothers:

“If death come before I have had the chance to develop all my artistic capacities, it will come too soon,...and I should probably wish it later—yet even so I should happy, for it would free me from a state of endless suffering? ...

Farewell and do not wholly forget me when I am dead; I deserve this from you, for during my lifetime I was thinking of you often and of ways to make you happy — please be so.”1

Yes, we have an obligation to remember and pray for those have preceded us in death. But more than this, we must cling to the promise that death is not the end. It is the resurrection of our Lord and Savior, Jesus that embodies this promise. However the paradox of death and grace—this man, though absent from the body, this man of healing is not gone from the bosom of Abraham. This child of God crosses the River Jordan and takes his place among those who will greet you at your coming. This man of accomplishment now because of the work of Jesus, the accomplishment of Jesus, is received into the arms of God’s mercy.

Healing hands, Russell’s, healing heart, Russell’s, now held in the arms of the greatest of Healer of all.

Russell, into paradise may the angels lead you. At your coming may martyrs receive you, and bring you into the holy city Jerusalem. May the choirs of angels welcome you, and with Lazarus who once was poor, may you have peace everlasting.2

1 Beethoven, Maynard Solomon. 1977, Schrimer Books, a division of Macmillan Publishing Company, p. 77.

2 In paradisum, from the Book of Common Prayer, 1979, p. 500
______________________________________________________________

3) the link to the zoom visitation recording that followed the service:

 https://vumc.box.com/s/pckvui4yducd8eaub0wguhlyhsy6mxa0

It is a very large file (11.6GB) and will take a long time (hours) to download. I’d suggest starting the download at a time you don’t need your computer for anything else for a few hours.

 

 

Patients and caregivers love hearing from you; add a comment to show your support.
Help Russell Stay Connected to Family and Friends

Your $25 donation to CaringBridge will help keep this site online for two weeks. And if you donate by March 28, a generous CaringBridge donor will match your donation, dollar for dollar, up to $10,000.

Make your gift in honor of Russell by midnight on March 28 to be counted!

Comments Hide comments

Show Your Support

See the Ways to Help page to get even more involved.

SVG_Icons_Back_To_Top
Top