Matt's Eulogy for Sam

My name is Matt Parks.

As long as I have known the Magees, they have had what they call an “open table” – a willingness to have others join them for a family meal. I’m sure that I have taken advantage of that offer much more often than any other person, but I have always received such precious love and encouragement from my many times with them. The whole family was a part of this, but I’ve often been struck by how Sam was especially protective of my place around their family table and as, in some sense, really a part of their family.

One of the great glories and mysteries of God is His particular love for His people – not because they are better than everyone else or more talented or otherwise worthy, but simply because He chose to love them. In years past, and certainly these last few days, I’ve thought a lot about the way that Sam taught me about this idea, especially during his high school years when I had the privilege of being around him so often. There wasn’t any good reason why he should care about me, but he did, or why he should be so protective of me, but he was. I suppose being 12 years his senior, I should have been like an older brother to him and perhaps I was in some ways, but there were other ways in which he was like an older brother to me. He was always quick with a greeting when I entered their home, eager to be hospitable, and warm in our conversations. Though we all know he had a delightfully sharp wit and he often amused us with it around the table, as harmless as his barbs were, they were never directed at me. He had a great ability to see weakness and vulnerability in those around him – and to compensate for it, rather than exploit it. There was such a degree of loyalty in Sam that if you were one of his people, then you knew he was looking out for you – and for some reason, in God’s providence, I was one of his people. What a privilege this was and what a blessing. Sam Magee made my life a whole lot better.

Probably because Sam was so loyal, he attracted a loyal following of his own. When our small school held a mock election for US president in 2004, he finished second, without, of course, being on the ballot. I remember chuckling to myself when I saw his first write-in vote, - if voters write in Mickey Mouse, then why not Sam? But when the next came in, completely independent of the first, it occurred to me that it wasn’t a joke. These were students who knew Sam well. They admired him and they recognized in him the kind of qualities that would make a great president and made a great man: He was wise in counsel – far beyond his years. He could see what was important and really mattered and see what didn’t. He was a leader. He loved his family.

Two Sundays ago, we had one more meal around the Magee’s table. In some ways for the first time, I could clearly hear the weakness in Sam’s voice and see the weariness in his eyes and I prayed that week that the Lord would give me the opportunity to help him now in his weakness. This is a hard answer to that prayer – but somehow it is an answer, from the same Lord who said, “I will not leave you or forsake you” and “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” and who promised, may we all be thankful, that a bruised reed He would not break and a smoldering flax He would not put out.