Today was an interesting day, and it got me thinking about the funerals I have been to in my life. Of course, there are the grandparents' funerals which each hit me in a different way. Grandpa Angleton's hit me because I had never seen my older brother cry so much, and I realized how little I knew about my Grandpa. Grandma Angleton's for me wasn't as hard, but I couldn't help thinking about how we used to visit and she made fried chicken for us. It is still the best fried chicken I have ever eaten and always will be. At Grandma Welsh's funeral, it hit me just how similar my mother was to my grandma. It seemed she got all of Grandma's good qualities, and it made me realize the legacy she left that is going strong through all of us (her kids and grandkids). Grandpa Welsh's funeral I wasn't able to make it to, but for me it consisted of a shot of whiskey with some close seminary friends as tribute to a man who in the hospital at the end of life wanted one last shot of Canadian rye Whiskey, which he got by the way (he had a great nurse). Those friends made that remembrance something truly special. They didn't know him but celebrated his life through ritualizing an action from a story my mother had told me on the phone. It helped me realize how important friends are in our lives.
The largest funerals I have ever attended or been around were those of a professor in college and a high school friend. Let's start with the professor in college. His name was Paul Simon, no not the folk singer. He was Senator from Illinois for many years. After his time as Senator he taught at Southern Illinois University. It was my pleasure to have him as a professor the semester before he died. This man was active to the very end of his life, and if you want to walk and talk with him you had to walk quickly because his philosophy was that if you walk faster then you can get more done. It was a pleasure to have known him even briefly. His funeral was huge and televised. I got sick and didn't make the actual funeral but I watched on tv as thousands of people came to celebrate the life of a man who was always working for good for the people of this country. Sharing just a little bit of life with Paul Simon was interesting because his class although titled "The Legislative Process," should have been called "Uncle Paul's story time with friends." He really did let you into his world as much as he could through telling stories about his time in office, and letting you know what he believes should be the next thing done in the House or Senate. It was an amazing time, and I am glad that I had the chance to listen to his stories.
By far the most difficult, most interesting, most life-altering funeral I have ever attended was for my friend from high school, who committed suicide his sophomore year of college. The thing that really struck me about this funeral was the shear number of people who came out to the funeral. This young man always had a smile on his face. He always was talking to friends and family. He was always encouraging. He was a good person to have in your life. For whatever reason, he chose to end his own life. And everyone who cared about him came and packed my home church, which was his home church. As I was walking into the visitation before the funeral, I ran into a friend I had known from church. He looked at me with tears in his eyes and tears in his voice and said, "Man, it is heavy in there." What a simply phrase that summed it up beautifully. It was heavy in there. It was stifling the amount of grief that was in that room. I don't know what the pastor said in the front of the sanctuary. I don't know what you would say in that situation. I'm not sure anyone was listening that closely. Before I left the sanctuary, his ex-girlfriend gave me a hug and said in my ear, "You know he really looked up to you." I don't know what that was supposed to mean, but I took it as you are someone people look up to. Use your powers for good, not evil. Be the person you are supposed to be. Be the person that people look up to, can talk to, can emulate. Be the person that my friend always thought I was. Be the person God is calling you to be. That was how I spent my 21st birthday, and I'm glad that I was there instead of in some bar. I'm glad I was there with my friends sharing stories, supporting each other, loving each other. That is what we get out of funerals that we were all changed and touched by having known this person. It is a reminder of the community that we have now, and is a reminder of the promises that God has for us.
Today, I was at the church for a funeral of young woman who died of cancer at the age of 14. I didn't actually know her, but I was impressed by the number of people who came out to celebrate this short life. I saw young people trying to make sense of what had happened. I saw adults try to make sense of it all. I saw hundreds of people who were touched by this young woman's life. I enjoyed hearing the stories of this young woman, and it made me think about life, death and resurrection. The most important story told was by the pastor who presided over the service. He told of sitting with her a week before she died knowing the her time was short. Their conversation was beautiful and meaningful and covered what Heaven is like as well as what dying is like. I will hold this conversation between this young woman and my senior pastor in my heart and will be sure to use the analogies that were made as appropriate. At this point, I'm not going to go into the details of it, but it did change the way I view death and dying. (I believe my pastor is going to publish this story in his weekly email. I may link to that or use it as the basis for a future post.)
How do you view death and dying? Have funerals ever made an impact on your life? How has the death of a loved one helped you rethink the way you do life?
Mark
P.S. Just so you know, it helps me to write these things out as I process what had happened this afternoon. How do you best process things in your life? (bonus question)
