The Reverend Dr. Ernest Jesse Gaither Jr., age 56, of Salem, New Jersey, died on Tuesday, September 18, 2001 at his home. Born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, he is the son of Jessie Skinner Gaither and the late Ernest Jesse Gaither Sr.

Jess Gaither always said that his vocation to ordained ministry, as well as his enduring love of music, took root during his experience in 1956-59 as a boy chorister at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in Manhattan, where he participated in thirteen sung services a week. After graduating from St. Andrew’s School in Middletown, Delaware in 1963, he earned a bachelor’s degree in medieval history from Harvard University, followed by a Master of Divinity from the Church Divinity School of the Pacific, an Episcopal seminary in Berkeley, California. Later he would complete a Doctor of Ministry degree at Virginia Theological Seminary in 1987.

Jess was ordained to the Episcopal priesthood in 1972. He served congregations in North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Maryland and New Jersey. He served as rector of St. John’s Parish in Salem NJ for thirteen years, where he has inspired the congregation in a ministry of outreach in both the local and international communities.

At the core of Jess’ ministry has been a passionate commitment to the human struggle for peace with justice. A member of the Episcopal Peace Fellowship for many years, he was currently serving on their National Executive Council. Jess worked tirelessly for a just peace in the Middle East, in association with Friends of Sabeel, supporting an ecumenical liberation theology center in Jerusalem. Jess also served as the convener of the national Episcopal Peace and Justice Network for six years. In the past, he was a leader in Bridges for Peace, a group promoting citizen exchanges for youth and adults between the United States and the former Soviet Union. Jess also served on the Peace Commission of the Episcopal Diocese of Washington, and the Anti-Racism Commission of the Diocese of New Jersey.

As an associate of the Order of the Holy Cross, Jess’ spirituality was grounded in both the discipline of the daily office, and in corporate worship. He served as a model of servant ministry for so many of those who were privileged to know him.

In addition to his mother, Jess is survived by his wife, the former Linda Lange, son, John Christopher Wood Gaither of Baltimore, Maryland, daughter, Elizabeth Pailin Hornbeck Gaither of Providence, Rhode Island, and sister, Julia Todd of Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The family suggest contributions in his memory to Hospice of Salem County c/o Memorial Hospital of Salem County, 310 Woodstown Road,, Salem NJ 08079, or Skinner/Gaither Seminary Scholarship Fund c/o Christ Episcopal Church, Elizabeth City NC 27909.

How right it is to be together in this Church today. There's a sweet, sweet spirit in this place. And the word and song we have shared speak so eloquently of this occasion and hardly need enumeration. But lest you get too hopeful, I'm going to do a bit of that anyway.

As we gather this day to celebrate the life and witness of a compassionate and faithful priest, we are immersed in a proclamation of the Resurrection. While we mourn the loss of our brother, today we affirm that he now sits at the banquet table with all the company of heaven. Isaiah (25:6-9) describes it as the "feast of rich food, a feast of well-aged wines" (which we know will suit Jess' appetite). And no doubt he is arranging the meal to be accompanied perhaps by Mozart with most certainly an encore from the Grateful Dead). So while we mourn his going from us, we celebrate his feast.

While we stand in shock and despair over events that took place September 11, and look with apprehension at its implications for the future, today we affirm new life through Christ's victory on the Cross. Again from Isaiah, "God will destroy on the mountain the shroud that is cast over all peoples. God will swallow up death forever." Today we are singing alleluias.

Our proclamation of Resurrection is lived in the paradox of death and suffering. As an Easter people we live always with contradiction. For in the midst of this confusing and violent world, we hold up a vision of what the world is to be, a New Jerusalem, a banquet table at which no one is left out. Jesus offered up that banquet in a small upper room, begun in humility and confusion and fear among his disciples and which we continue today in this Eucharistic banquet, but in triumph and praise to God for Christ's victory: victory over fear, victory over violence, victory over death.

Jess would insist we uphold that vision today rather than bemoaning his going from us. He would remind us that before that banquet table at which he sits today is ready for us on earth we must first be reconciled with all that is around us, reconciliation among all humanity and with the earth, with all God's creation, all creatures great and small.

The citizens of Jerusalem thought they were ready for the banquet when Jesus entered the city. "The whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice...'blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in heaven.'" (Luke 19-37-42) They were ready for the feast. But what they did not understand was that the invitations to this meal had to include everybody. And then the Pharisees, blind to the vision of full reconciliation among all people and all creation, chastised Jesus and told him to control the crowd. And, close to despair with their blindness, Jesus responded, "If these were silent, the stones would shout out." Today, out of the rubble of what was once the World Trade Center, what are the stones shouting out? The Gospel today says, "As Jesus came near and saw the city, he wept over it." And he cried out, "If you, even you, had only recognized the things that make for peace!" Who of us has not wept in these days and cried out with similar distress?

Jess always invited us to go with Jesus into a deeper place. Jesus shared that we can't have peace if we are not reconciled with those who are different from us so that all sit at the table together. Diversity is cause for celebration because it is a reflection of God's creation. When instead we use diversity to oppress and divide, injustice flourishes. Justice is a prerequisite for reconciliation. And, as we so often observe, if there is no justice, there is no peace.

In the 13 years of Jess' ministry in this place, he always held up the vision of an expanding table that included everybody. In his early days he brought Russian citizens here to show that the Cold War had a human face. He and Linda have always worked for an inclusive Church, a Church without racism, where all people are welcome and have an invitation to this banquet table at which we gather today.

Jess also toiled for inclusion of the dispirited and oppressed Palestinian people, who have endured the dreadful injustice of dislocation and then brutal Occupation for over 53 years. His message was that the Palestinians have been driven from the banquet table and it's time to invite them back.

How I miss Jess' wisdom and insight since September 11. He would help us ask the question why and insist that we ask it. In that dreadful image of searing evil which we all observed with such horror, we now see a dreadful anger swelling among some in this nation against innocent and good and faithful people, who just happen to be Arab or Muslim, or Sikhs who wear turbans and just look like Muslims, and some of those Muslims and Christians who happen to be Palestinian. Stereotyping is its own evil, and our work for a just peace in the Holy Land, and for peace in our own communities, has become infinitely more complex and daunting. September 11 seemed to put preparations for the banquet on hold.

We all seek justice against the perpetrators of this evil and the guilty should feel the full force of accountability for their actions. That is not the question. But there is a difference between justice and revenge. If we pursue a path of vengeance, there will be no peace and no banquet. The innocent are sure to perish. In revenge, we face the risk that we will become like those we are hunting. That is a trap of which we must be wary.

But pursuit of justice will lead to a different future. We are a Resurrection people. We proclaim good news. We are no less called to seek reconciliation now among all peoples, when we are angry and in grief, than at any other time. We know this to be so even as we know it will be harder than ever. But hear this. Despite all that has happened, still we work to build the "New Jerusalem" when all are reconciled and all the human family sit at the banquet table. Justice and reconciliation, yes. Revenge and hate, no. Out of the rubble, hear the vision.

Jess was a reconciler among us. He loved to bring people together, to build communities of inclusion. He held up an Easter vision. He now sits at the heavenly banquet he worked so hard to build on earth. And he has now seen fulfilled the prophecy of the reading from Revelation. So listen carefully one more time. "I saw the Holy City, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God... I heard a loud voice from the throne saying: See, the home of God is among mortals. God will dwell with them; they will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them. God will wipe away every tear from their eyes; Death will be no more; mourning and crying and pain will be no more; for the first things have passed away... See, I am making all things new. (Revelation 21:2-7)" I can see Jess arching his eyebrows and asking, "Eh?" to be sure we got the point. This is the vision of reconciliation fulfilled. The road of justice leads to the New Jerusalem.

Jess, dear brother, priest and shepherd, husband and father, and friend, we give thanks to God for this your day of Resurrection. We let you go but we keep your love, your passion, your wisdom, your indomitable determination to inspire our work ahead. Go now in peace. We rejoice in the banquet set before you. And we join you now at this table in a foretaste of all that rich food and fine aged wine that is prepared for all creation. We remember with reassurance now and for the days ahead the salutation that ended every email message from you for these past years — peace, and courage.

The Rev. Canon Brian J. Grieves is the Director of Peace and Justice Ministries at the national Episcopal Church Center in New York City.