Houston leaders and community attend Rev. Bill Lawson’s funeral in Wheeler

Photographs of the Rev. William Lawson, framed with white roses and lilies, filled the lobby of Wheeler Avenue Baptist Church Friday. They profiled Lawson in the final years of his life, a chapter that unfolded after decades of community leadership. In several images, his large and loving family surrounded him like a bouquet. In others, his flock flanked Lawson in his robe similar to that draped over an empty chair in the church sanctuary.

Lawson died on May 14 at the age of 95. His long life and career included time on the front lines of the civil rights movement and the founding of Wheeler Avenue Baptist Church, a beloved Third Ward institution that was mentioned several times at his memorial service . an institution but as a family.

This extended family tested the limits of the church’s fire code Friday: Thousands flocked to Wheeler Baptist to pay their final respects to a man whose impact on Houston could only be quantified by the entity that called him home last week.

Tears flowed during Lawson’s funeral.

A singer from a powerful choir of more than 200 singers dabbed her eyes during the service’s celebratory anthem, “I Will GiveThanks.” Lawson’s granddaughter, Raven Troup, fought back tears as she sang the final chorus of “Some Things Are Meant to Be” for her grandfather.

Saxophonist Kirk Whalum raised his glasses and wiped his eyes without missing a note after prefacing his performance with a story of the comfort he and his wife found in Wheeler after losing their firstborn.

State Sen. Borris Miles’ voice cracked as he credited Lawson with putting him on the path so he wouldn’t “become another statistic.”

PICTURES: Members of the Houston community come together to celebrate the life and legacy of Rev. Bill Lawson

But the tears were absorbed by a sea of ​​celebration at Wheeler, a five-hour tribute to a 95-year life lived in service. Even the music produced its own swells, as this giant choir – uniformed in black attire with red ties and roses as accents – swayed gently from side to side. Their voices and movements produced a euphoric feeling that permeated not only the music but the entire proceedings, including a lengthy parade of guest speakers, organized by Lawson himself.

It was as if “Houston Pastor” Lawson, who made Wheeler his home in 1962, wanted to turn an old joke on its head: a rabbi, a cardinal and Lakewood church pastor Joel Osteen walk into a church Baptist.

Lawson, in a video tribute, essentially defused the punchline. In an interview, he said he did not want to be seen as a civil rights leader but rather as a bridge builder. The assembled participants testified to Lawson as a moving and far-reaching civic engineer.

Details that might have seemed maudlin seemed rather festive. Lawson’s daughter, Roxanne, attended the service wearing his clothes, including his cufflinks. After the procession – during which Wheeler staff, trustees, clergy and the Lawson family were seated – Lawson’s robe was draped over a chair and carried down the aisle.

The list of speakers was so long that it had to be divided into three groups. The first featured Houston Mayor John Whitmire, Harris County Precinct 1 Commissioner Rodney Ellis, Miles and Democratic U.S. Reps. Al Green and Sheila Jackson Lee.

Former Mayor Sylvester Turner was part of the second group, members of the civic community.

The third group emerged from Lawson’s former Three Amigos, three major Houston religious leaders during the second half of the 20th century: Lawson; Archbishop Joseph Fiorenza; and Rabbi Samuel Karff.

Lawson was the last of these three Houston religious leaders to leave. Rabbi David Lyon, Cardinal Daniel DiNardo and Marcus Cosby of Wheeler now occupy these spaces. All three spoke with respect and admiration of Lawson’s life.

Which is not to say that the debates were too formal. Most of the panelists offered comic embellishments for their relationships with Lawson and his late wife Audrey.

“You can call him anytime,” said Barbara Williams, Christian Counseling minister in Wheeler. “And I pray that Ms. Lawson doesn’t answer.”

Green referenced Lawson’s favorite lunch: a bowl of fruit and eight strips of bacon. “And he never gained an ounce,” Green said.

Guests also spoke admiringly of his commitment to the Houston community he served for decades. “You can’t lead the people if you don’t love them,” said Abdul Haleem Muhammad, student minister at Muhammad Mosque No. 45 in Houston.

“Even Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. couldn’t convince him to leave his flock,” said Green, who also read a letter sent to the Lawson family by President Joe Biden.

If a theme came up and resurfaced, it was a call to action. Whitmire asked attendees to “leave here feeling great.” Pastor Jeremiah Wright Jr. — his voice a whisper from a stroke — urged the future Three Amigos to make room for a Muslim voice as part of a new quartet. Turner emphasized that Lawson’s work during the civil rights years was only a prelude to the story of a full life. After the murder of George Floyd, he noted that Lawson “was on the steps of city hall at 91 years old, in front of 60,000 people listening to him”, recalling that “you are never too old to do God’s will “.

The service lasted nearly five and a half hours, a whisper of time compared to the length of Lawson’s life spent in service.

When leaving, the participants had to pass by these photos again. One, in particular, stood out: Lawson, a lanky teenager in a striped shirt and pants, was hiking high-ranking with an arm full of books, supported by flora overgrown with vegetation, a young man entering the entrance ramp to what would become an incredible and substantial adventure. life.

The photo is likely from his youth in Kansas City, but it speaks to the magnitude of change that can occur over the course of a lifetime. During his lifetime, Houston exploded as a metropolis. Such growth comes with great rewards and significant costs.

Wheeler grew from a frame church that could seat a few hundred people to a larger structure that could seat about a thousand people. The current sanctuary can accommodate more than 3,000 people. And this space – at the corner of Wheeler Avenue and Scott Street today – sees trains roaring past. A stadium is emerging nearby.

But in the midst of all these changes was a man who continued to work for his God.

Consider the quantifiable: the number of marriages and baptisms performed over a six-decade period. Consider the unquantifiable: how many hungry and homeless people are fed and comforted. Bridges built. The marches led. Meetings with religious leaders to find ways to raise a shared city.

To walk or drive around Wheeler is to see more tangible evidence of a life well lived: Lawson left that plane with a street named after him. His family name appears on an institute and an academy.

Lawson in this childhood photo was probably captured in the morning on his way to school when the shadows lengthen.

But whatever the time of day, the tall young man in the photo acted like Lawson in his great life. He left a formidable shadow.