I have been going to church a lot. Between the marionette service, and vespers, and the two memorial services last weekend, I kept walking through the arched doors.
Funerals have evolved in style
over the years. My childhood memory is that they used to be another chance for the minister to preach. Granted this could have more to do with my attention span than the actual words spoken. But recently, they have become a chance to know the person who died better. The stories woven in with passages about eternal life include nuggets of humor, and windows into the experiences of someone we care about.
One of the men being honored was a career policeman. His least favorite part of the job was in the summer. Kids who had no access to a pool would turn on the fire hydrants to cool off on scorching days, and it fell to him to stop it. But his heart just wouldn't let him. So he cut a deal instead.
"If you will wash my car, I will let you
keep it on," he offered.
The other memorial service was about a man whose time from diagnosis to passing in his sleep was just a few weeks. In the congregation were hundreds of relatives, neighbors, and coworkers still reeling from the loss. Being a witness to the ways he showed up for others was tender. He helped a friend with a reconstruction, showing up with a sledge hammer
day after day. He paid off the student loans of an in law.
His wife of forty eight years was a huge part of his story. She softened him. When the grandkids flung sand outside the sandbox, he had to walk away in frustration. She asked if he wanted a relationship with them or a clean house. Clearly he wanted the first, as he was sitting with a grandson curled in his lap a few hours before he fell gently to sleep for the last
time.
Between the time of his brain surgery and when he died, he was given a vision of God. Although he did not see God's face, he felt the incredible power of love. Any lingering fear he might have had about dying dissipated.
His message to
family about marriage was that it is hard.
But it is worth it.