October 1, 2026
Dear Central Church,
The book of Hebrews describes those who have died in Christ as a “great cloud of witnesses.” It’s powerful imagery: those of us who are alive are running the race of faith, while those who have gone before us are assembled in heaven, cheering us on. Living a life of faithfulness to God is a high calling, but we can put one foot in front of the other as we remember the faith-filled obedience of those who have gone before us.
The great cloud of witnesses became a little greater this week. Marion Snyder passed away yesterday, surrounded by family who serenaded her into the presence of Jesus with the great hymns of the Church.
Her life of faithfulness is an inspiration to us all. She and her husband, Bill, served the Lord in so many different ways. With the exception of pastor, they held nearly every position one could imagine in the local church.
As I think about Bill and Marion’s impact for the Lord, my mind goes to Stephen in Acts 6. Stephen was not chosen to preach; he was appointed by the apostles to administer the daily distribution of food. Yet there isn’t a more effusive description of anyone in the entire book of Acts than the way Luke describes Stephen: “a man full of faith and of the Holy Spirit” and one who was “full of grace and power.” (Acts 6:5, 8)
Marion was a woman full of faith, full of God’s grace, and overflowing with that grace and power. You knew this simply by being around her for any length of time. Like Stephen, she regularly welcomed people into her home for fellowship, helping everyone at the church feel like they belonged to something bigger than themselves.
She didn’t have the biggest home in Roeland Park, but she unquestionably had the biggest heart. There was always room around her table, and through her love and generous spirit, that table became an extension of God’s table.
I don’t think Marion ever preached a sermon. But then again, maybe she did.
A song on the radio says, “I want my life to preach.” Marion showed us what it looks like for a life to preach. Her sermon was not delivered from a pulpit. It was preached around a dinner table, in a welcoming home, through countless acts of service, and in the simple way she made people feel seen, loved, and welcomed.
As we run the race of faith set before us, how does your life “preach”?
More than words or clever arguments, I pray that we would be people of tangible love and generous spirits—people who always make room for one more around God’s table.
And may we be grateful for the people like Marion who have gone before us, whose lives still preach to us, even as they now join the great cloud of witnesses cheering us on.
On the Journey Together,
Pastor Mark
