At Home With the Lord

I gave this message at Dave Hoy’s funeral service, January 3, 2026.

On a hot day in August 1989, I became the pastor of Calvary Memorial in Oak Park, IL. I came early and stayed a couple of weeks with Fred and Erlene Hartman in River Forest. Marlene and the boys came at the end of August.

It’s fair to say that I had no idea what was to come from a Southern boy venturing north to the foreign land of Chicago. Everything was new and different, and some of it was a bit scary, but the church was filled with wonderful people.

They welcomed us with open arms.
Thus began 17 happy years in Oak Park.

We met Dave and Lynette Hoy not long after we arrived and soon became fast friends.

Dave and I served side-by-side for almost a third of a century. He was chairman of the elders at Calvary for ten years. When we started Keep Believing Ministries in 2006, we had our first meeting in his law office in Oak Park. He became our first chairman, and served in that role for 20 years. When we chose new officers each January, Dave was elected each time by acclamation.

So today marks the end of an era for me.

Next week, Marlene and I will return to Chicago for our first-ever KBM board meeting without Dave. It will be strange for me because it will be the first board meeting in 30 years that Dave has not chaired.

Cancer Clarifies

On Thursday morning, Marlene and I read together these familiar words from Ecclesiastes 3:1-4):

There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:

   a time to be born and a time to die,
    a time to plant and a time to uproot,
    a time to kill and a time to heal,
    a time to tear down and a time to build,
    a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,

If you live long enough, you will laugh and cry, mourn and dance, you’ll kill, and then you will heal, but eventually you will die.

That brings us to this moment.

It is no secret that the last few months were difficult for Dave. I confess to having a different view of this since my own bout with cancer two years ago.

A friend shared two words that gave perspective:

“Cancer clarifies.”

I found out how true that was, and so did Dave.

In one blinding flash—just like that!—you discover that all those things you spent untold hours worrying out—the stuff that keeps you up at night and consumes you as you wake up—all of it!—it just doesn’t matter.

Now deep inside, we all know this is true. In the end everything that man builds collapses before his eyes. As the poet said,

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power
And all that beauty, all that wealth e’er gave
Awaits alike the inevitable hour
The paths of glory lead but to the grave.

We find these words in 1 John 2:17 “The world is passing away and its desires, but he who does the will of God abides forever.”

Nada, Zip, Zero

What a revelation the judgment day will be for all of us.

The things we thought were so important, so crucial, so vital, the things we included on our résumé, the degrees we earned, the money we made, the deals we closed, the classes we taught, the friends we cultivated in high places, the buildings we built, the organizations we managed,

the budgets we balanced, the books we wrote, the songs we sang, the records we made, the trips we took, the portfolios we built, the fortunes we amassed, the positions we finally attained, so that the people of the world

and even our Christian friends would know that we didn’t just sit on the couch watching the Chicago Bears (Go Bears!),

all that stuff that we take such pride in, the things that in themselves are not evil or wrong or bad, but are the “stuff” of life in this world,

all of it, every single last bit of it, every part of it, to give us our rep

utation, our standing, our place in the world, even our place in the Christian world, our name in the lights, our claim to fame, our reason for existence,

the proof that we were here and made a name for ourselves in the short 50 or 60 or 70 or even 80 or 90 yearsthat we have on planet earth, think of it!, all of it added together means nothing, zip, zero, nada, vanity of vanities, all is vanity,

and I think I’ve heard that somewhere before.

Now you may ask, “Pastor Ray, who are you talking about? Is it Dave or you?”

The answer is, of course, yes!

But really I’m talking about all of us because sooner or later we will all attend our own funeral.

Are you ready?

Early Morning at Elmhurst Hospital

Death for Dave was a release from the sufferings of this life.

Lynette let me look at a Bible she gave Dave on their 10^th anniversary in 1979. It was obviously greatly loved and well-used because the cover had been reattached with duct tape, and you could see where Dave had underlined passages and written notes in the margin.

It turned out that Philippians was one of his favorite books. I noticed this comment on Philippians 4:19, “My God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.”

All your needs.

We think we know what that means, but maybe we don’t. Dave added this comment at the bottom of the page:

“What I need will not always be what I want!!” The exclamation points were his way of emphasizing that truth.

Dave did not “want” cancer. He did his best to beat it, and he survived longer than the doctors expected. But God used Dave’s cancer to grow his faith and give him a new platform for sharing Christ. In that sense, Dave “needed” cancer to fulfill God’s will in his life.

I know he believed that even if he didn’t understand all the reasons God allowed it to happen.

Marlene and I saw him for the last time on a Monday morning about 3 weeks ago. We knew—he knew—death was not far away. It happened that I had spoken that weekend at a Christmas conference in Oregon. When it ended on Sunday, we went to the Portland airport and took the Red Eye to Chicago. Somewhat bleary-eyed, we picked up a rental car and drove to Elmhurst Hospital.

We arrived around 7 AM. At that moment, it was just Marene, me, and Dave.

I pause to say that Dave was one of the best friends I ever had. No pastor ever had a better friend or supporter.

He loved the Lord, he loved his family, he loved his church, he loved his friends, and he loved the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Said another way, he lived as a Christian, he died as a Christian, he has gone to a Christian’s reward.

He Served His Own Generation

When I think of Dave, my mind goes to his biblical namesake, David, King of Israel. There is a verse buried in Acts 13, in the sermon Paul preached at the synagogue in Pisidian Antioch. In that sermon, he wants to convince his fellow Jews that Jesus is indeed the promised Messiah.

When he comes to King David, he summarizes his entire life this way, “When David had served God’s purpose in his own generation, he fell asleep” (Acts 13:36).

What a way to sum up a life!

He served.
He served God.
He served God’s purpose.
He served his own generation.
He fell asleep.

Others have spoken eloquently about Dave’s influence. I second everything that has been said.

But that last phrase in Acts 13 ought to cause us to pause. “He fell asleep.” He died. His life on earth ended.

So when we saw Dave in the hospital, it was clear that the end was very near. Waking up and seeing us, he spoke in a voice worn down by suffering, “I want to go home and be with Jesus.”

No wonder Paul said, .” Absent from the body, present with the Lord.

At home with the Lord.

Many Questions

People have many questions about heaven. “Pastor Ray, what is heaven like?” My answer is always the same: “We’ll know for sure when we get there. I only know what the Bible says.

I cling to the words Jesus spoke to the thief on the cross: “Today you will be with me in paradise” (Luke 23:33).

When I was younger, I liked the idea of being in paradise. After all, the Bible says Abraham passed his earthly journey in tents, but it didn’t matter because he was looking for a city with foundations, built by God himself (Hebrews 11:10).

A city!
We’re going to a city!

Like Chicago? Not exactly.
Like Las Vegas? I doubt it.
Like London? No.
Like Paris or Miami? No.

In the city God builds, there will be no more pain, no more suffering, no more tears, no more crutches, no more cancer, no more strokes.

Alzheimer’s gone. ALS gone.
Heart attacks a distant memory.

No more drunken drivers. No more suicide.
No more crippling diseases.

No more doctors.
No more hospitals.

And best of all, in the city God builds, there will be no funerals.

Thanks be to God, there are no graves dug into the hillsides of heaven.

But even that is not the end of the story.
I said earlier that I once focused on the words “in paradise.” But here is the heaven of heaven:

“Today you will be with me in paradise.”

Heaven is where Jesus is. Everything else is just details.

More Alive!

There’s just a couple of other things I need to say and I will be done.

Dave has gone where death cannot hurt him, where cancer cannot consume him, where pain cannot touch him.

He is more alive today than he was when we heard his laughter and saw his smile.

More alive!

That’s what Jesus meant when he said, “I am the Resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in me, though he dies, yet shall he live. And whoever lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25-26).

Whenever I read those words, I want to say, “Which is it, Jesus?” Do we die, or do we not die?”
The answer of course is yes!

We die—and we don’t die.

As to the body, Dave died.
As to his spirit, he lives today with Jesus.

The Dead in Christ Will Rise First

And one day soon, sooner than we think, the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and the trumpet call of God, and the dead in Christ will rise first, then we who are alive and remain will be caught together with them to meet the Lord in the air, and we will be with the Lord forever (See 1 Thessalonians 4:14-17).

Coming soon!

Dave believed that with all his heart. Do you?

That brings me back to the words of Jesus in John 11. After that marvelous statement, “I am the resurrection and the life,” and the truth that in Jesus we never really die, Jesus asked a question that I would like to ask you today:

Do you believe this?

I am not worried about Dave, not at all.
He believed every word Jesus spoke.
He was not afraid to die.

What about you?
What do you believe?

You say, “I came to honor Dave.” I appreciate that, and we’re glad you’re here. But what about you?

What do you believe?

You say, “I believe in Jesus.” That’s good.
Most people believe in Jesus a little bit.

Have you ever trusted Him as your Lord and Savior?
That’s the only way anyone goes to Heaven.

Jesus is the Son of God. Do you believe that?
He lived a perfect life. Do you believe that?
He died on the cross for our sins. Do you believe that?
He rose from the dead. Do you believe that?

Believing in Jesus means trusting in Him so much that if he can’t take you heaven, you aren’t going to go there.

Let me put it this way.  Jesus is my Plan A, and there is no Plan B.
He’s the only way to heaven.

That’s what Dave Hoy believed to the very end.

Run to the Cross!

So to all of you, many of you very dear friends, in case I never see you again, life being so uncertain for all of us,

If you want to go heaven, there is one thing you must do.

Run to the cross!
Run to the cross and lay hold of Jesus!

Put your trust in him, and when you die, you will close your eyes on earth and open them in heaven.

For those who believe in Jesus, death is not the end of life, it’s the doorway that leads directly to heaven.

For Dave, the battle is over, the victory won.

Suffering and weakness have been swallowed up in the sunlight of God’s love.

He has gone where sickness cannot reach him, where old age cannot enfeeble him, where the pains of this life cannot assail him.

He is with the Lord forever.

He walked by faith for many years.
Now he walks by sight.

For years he dreamed of heaven.
Now he walks the streets of gold.

For years he prayed to Jesus.
Now he has seen him face to face.

Our loss is heaven’s gain.

I thank God for the privilege of knowing such a fine man.

I am glad that heaven is a real place and that Dave has gone there. Of that I have no doubt.

Finally, to my dear friend Dave.
Thank you for so much encouragement.

Thank you for your love.
Thank you for your prayers.
It was an honor to be your pastor, your colleague, and your friend.

C. S. Lewis remarked that Christians don’t say goodbye; we say, “See you later.”

Rest well, Dave. We will see you again.

Even so, Come, Lord Jesus! Amen.