Last Sunday, as I brought our sermon series on Faithfulness in Seasons of Change and Loss to a close, I mentioned Dolly Parton, “The Queen of Country.” 

It seemed appropriate to me that a sermon about living faithfully through change and loss would end by thinking about someone whose life touched millions of people. Dolly died on August 25 at the age of 80, and the tributes that followed were about much more than her music. People remembered her humor, her authenticity, her generosity, her ability to make people feel welcome – and her remarkable commitment to helping others. 

As I watched and read some of the media reports, I was especially struck by something that has characterized so much of her life: Dolly Parton gave back. 

She never forgot where she came from. Raised in poverty in the mountains of East Tennessee, she knew firsthand what it meant to have very little. Her father could not read or write, and that experience eventually became the inspiration for one of her greatest gifts to the world: Dolly Parton’s Imagination Library. Since 1995, the program has provided more than 300 million free books to children around the world. 

But Dolly’s generosity went far beyond books. 

She established the Dollywood Foundation to invest in children and education. She helped families who lost everything in the Tennessee wildfires. She gave generously to medical research, including a $1 million gift to Vanderbilt that helped fund early COVID-19 research. She supported children’s hospitals, pediatric cancer research, disaster relief and countless other causes. 

When we wonder about Dolly’s process of giving to others, it’s simple – her generosity often began with simply paying attention to people. We can all learn from her.  

She remembered what it was like to grow up without much. She remembered what her father could not do because he could not read. She remembered the communities that had helped shape her. And then she used what she had been given to make someone else’s life a little better. 

That brings me back to a quote about the church from Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He said that the church is truly the church when it exists for others. 

Those words have stayed with me. Perhaps this is one of the most important questions we can ask ourselves as Christians: Are we living primarily for ourselves, or are we becoming people who exist for others? 

Our congregation has been thinking about that throughout this series on change and loss. We have talked about grief, about listening, about walking alongside one another, and about discovering God’s faithfulness when life is not what it once was. 

And perhaps there is a simple way to bring all of that together: love someone else. 

• Listen to someone who needs to be heard.  

• Notice the person who feels invisible.  

• Give generously when someone is in need.  

• Make room at the table.  

• Encourage a child.  

• Visit someone who is lonely.  

• Sit quietly with someone who is grieving.  

• Use whatever gifts God has given you—not simply for yourself, but for the sake of someone else. 

During worship last Sunday, our choir’s anthem was They’ll Know We Are Christians by Our Love. I commented to the choir that Dolly would have loved it! A fitting way to conclude our August sermon series. And also, a fitting way to remember Dolly Parton. 

Dolly was humble. She never wanted the limelight. She probably wouldn’t want to be recognized in this letter! But I do think there is something worth noticing when a person uses the blessings, opportunities and resources she has received to bless other people. Dolly once described her philanthropy simply: “I just give from my heart.” 

There is something wonderfully uncomplicated about that. Perhaps faithful living is sometimes more uncomplicated than we make it. To summarize our series: We love. We listen. We give. We show up. We remember that what we have is not ultimately ours. 

And when our own season of life comes to an end, perhaps the greatest question will not be how successful we were, how much we accumulated, or how many people knew our name. Perhaps the question will be much simpler: Did people know they were loved because we were there? That is the kind of life I want to live. And that is the kind of church I hope we will continue becoming. A church that exists for others. A church where, when people encounter us, they encounter something of the love of Jesus. 

Because in the end, that may be the best legacy any of us can leave: They’ll know we are Christians by our love. 

God’s Blessings,