25 MARCH 2025
A funeral Mass for Craig Myron Robl, longtime parishioner of Saint Joseph Catholic Church, was celebrated by his pastor, Father Terrance Klein. Concelebrating was family friend and neighbor, Father Pascal Klein. Marlene Clayton cantored with Jonelle Niles as accompanist. Terri Huslig lectored. A large crowd was in attendance, filling the back of the church and extending into the choir loft.
| Earth and Sky | Craig Robl |
| Father Terrance Klein | Saint Joseph 25.III.2025 |
Lamentations 3: 17-26 Philippians 3: 20-21 John 6: 51-58
Earth and sky. The coupling suggests wholeness, completion, the cosmos itself: the earth below and the sky above us. And the pairing seems so apt for Kansas. Our detractors say there’s nothing out here but earth and sky, but a kinder spin would be to say that in Kansas both the earth and the sky appear boundless. Nothing competes with them; they stretch out endlessly below and above us.
Craig was a child of the earth, even more so than the rest of us. He grew up the son of a farmer. There was never a conscious moment of his life when he wasn’t tending to the soil, laboring in the fields of earth. Are farmers more prayerful, more religious than the rest of their fellows? I think so. Everything they plant needs water to grow, and they spend so many hours out there in the fields, tending to the earth in silence.
Craig’s faith was so evident in his illness. He immediately sought out the sacraments. I can’t remember anyone more grateful to see me every time I sought him out. Yes, Craig was a child of the earth. He loved the land and all its blessings. He loved the Lord, from whence they come.
Nathan Cass wrote of Craig:
It’s hard to find words when a person whom you have looked up to and could only hope to be like when you are an adult passes away. Craig was one of those guys for me. Not only was he a cool guy, he was a great father to his kids, a great boss, a great role model, but ultimately a great human being. Many of the values I have, I gained from this man. He gave me an opportunity to work for him when they really didn’t need the extra help. I ended up working all my high school days for his family’s farm. He taught me so much growing up, whether it be farm work, life, or just showing me by his actions of how to be a good person.
If one didn’t know Craig, if you only learned of his life through its photographs, you’d still see that earth’s first blessing for Craig was family. In pictures, you can watch the original Robls pass through each decade of life, Roy and Rosemary, with their five children, Kent, Joan, Rodney, Craig, Corey, and Ryan.
I wonder. Would Craig have called his first marriage a mistake or a blessing? In God’s providence, things have a way of being both. Craig surely counted it among his blessings, because it gave him Shawna and Christopher. And here the photographs and the collective wisdom of the town coincide. People say that Craig was everything for his kids. They weren’t simply his responsibility. They were his joy, his fulfillment. People still remember After Harvest parades and the go cart that Craig would transform for his kids into a horse and carriage, an airplane, even the Flintstone mobile.
Keep looking through those pictures and you’ll see Craig and Chris with motorbikes or Craig standing with Shawna before prom and graduation. One could—and people do—go on and on about how Craig was there for his kids, but nothing more wonderfully or tearfully speaks the truth of who Craig is than his daughter Shawna stopping me in the road with tears in her eyes, saying only, “I don’t know how to live without him.”
Shawna wrote:
Today, as we gather to say goodbye, my heart aches with a profound sense of loss, but also with an overwhelming gratitude for the incredible man you were and the profound impact you’ve had on my life. You were more than just my father; you were my rock, my confidant, and my greatest cheerleader.
From the countless childhood adventures we shared to the lessons you taught me about life, I am eternally grateful for your unwavering love and support. You taught me the importance of kindness, perseverance, and the value of family.
I will forever cherish the memories we created together: the laughter, the tears, the quiet moments of connection. Your wisdom, your humor, and your gentle spirit will be forever etched in my heart.
Though you may be gone, your legacy will live on in me and in the lives of everyone you touched. I promise to carry on your values, to live a life filled with love, kindness, and integrity.
As we bid you farewell, know that you will never be forgotten. You are loved beyond measure, and your memory will forever be a source of comfort and inspiration. Rest in peace, my beloved Dad.
Yes, Craig was a child of the earth. A farmer who loved its delights, and who had learned to look to the Lord in his needs.
Was there a time in the silence of his heart when Craig said to his savior, “Lord, you’ve given me enough in my children, Chris and Shawna. I can’t begrudge your wisdom or your kindness.” Who can say? But then we know that the Lord responded by sending Paula and her children into Craig’s life. Again, one can see a pattern repeat itself in pictures. Craig with his now larger family, Craig drawing joy and life from that family.
Paula, only widows know what you are going through now. The rest of us cannot claim to fathom the depth of your pain, your loss. I can only draw your attention to the second half of our woeful reading from Lamentations.
But this I will call to mind;
therefore I will hope:
the LORD’s acts of mercy are not exhausted,
his compassion is not spent;
they are renewed each morning—
great is your faithfulness! (3:22-25).
Earth and sky. They surround us; they nourish us; they hold us. Most of us are content to toil upon the earth and only gaze at the sky, but not Craig. He wanted to claim it as his own. Shortly after high school, Craig earned his pilot’s license; he trained to service planes; and he took up crop dusting. Craig found a job that took him into the sky, combining his love of the earth with love of flying. Craig’s desire to claim the sky as his own says everything about his drive, his sense of purpose, his sheer exuberance for life.
Earth and sky. They define our lives, but Craig shows us that they do not confine us. Craig received both as the gift of a God who loved him. Craig dearly loved this earth, the life he had made upon it, but he never forgot that he was ultimately a son of the sky, a child of heaven. For as Saint Paul told the Philippians,
Our citizenship is in heaven,
And from it we await a savior (3:20).
Today we commit his body to the earth, all the while knowing that the Lord has summoned his soul skyward.
Chris wrote a poem for his father, which he entitled “Final Flight.” I’ll close with it. I could have opened with it and called it quits.
Final Flight
The wheels lift off, the earth grows small,
The crimson bird on its final call.
For a moment, weightless—free,
Drifting toward eternity.
Do not weep, do not despair,
Look to the heavens—I am there.
I’ve passed my final checkride true,
And now I soar where dreams once flew.
The golden fields fade from view,
Replaced by endless skies of blue.
No burdens now, no furrowed land,
Just open air and God’s own hand.
I’ve raised my children strong,
Now I can pass on.
And when you see a red plane high,
Know I am there, just passing by.
A gentle wave, a tailwind strong,
A soul at peace where I belong.
No sorrow, no tears left to cry,
I just joined the other untamed spirits in the sky.
Today we gather in Eucharist because Christ said,
I am the living bread that came down from heaven;
whoever eats this bread will live forever;
and the bread that I will give is my Flesh
for the life of the world (Jn 6: 51).
The Eucharist is the Church’s great act of thanksgiving, for even in tears we know that we were given a great gift in Craig. So, we thank the Lord who created him, redeemed him, and shared him with us. And we pray that for the rest of our days on earth, we remember that we are children of Christ, sons and daughters of the sky above.
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