Okay, it's time to blog again. (Don't complain about the long absence, just be thankful for what you get.)
Today, I went to the funeral of an uncle by marriage. The uncle who preached the funeral sermon was another uncle, a brother-in-law of the uncle who died. He started out by saying that M. had a gift for spotting other people's faults and pointing them out to them -- in love. Sheesh. I thought a funeral was when you said good things about people.
Reminds me of a funeral of an old family friend I went to in that same church a few years ago. The minister, who was rather far from being a gifted speaker, said that you're supposed to say something good about the deceased, and he had thought and thought and thought and then came up with this idea. Old A. was known for driving very slowly down the highway on his way to the coffee shop in town, with his car half on the shoulder and half on the highway, while a big line up of traffic crawled along behind him. And that just made the minister realize that we should all take a lesson from that and slow down in life.
With love like that, who needs hate?
6 comments:
Welcome back Crock.
The worst funeral I ever went to was where the pastor told everyone how hard funerals usually are because people expect their loved ones to go to heaven, and yet almost no one is going to get there. Luckily, the guy who died accepted Jesus and is going, but he's not so sure about the rest of us, and proceeded to proselytize for 30 minutes, which is what the deceased asked him to do before he died. I wanted to run out screaming.
I thought funerals are religious services. I don't attend those unless family is involved.
Memorials or wakes are where you talk about all the good things about the deceased. Those generally are much more interesting.
The minister that performed my father's funeral service (at Dad's request), I'm convinced, was demented. He was old and exhausted, and had performed several other funerals the same weekend. He forgot who he was talking about, rambled incessantly, brought up stories that weren't ours, and made no sense whatsoever. I was mortified, but paralyzed about what to do about it, short of tackling him to the floor and grabbing the microphone.
The BEST funeral that I went to was probably my mother's. Even though it was a terrible loss for us, the event was joyful and celebratory because those who attended (with open mic participation)truly knew her and didn't talk about the spiritual side. She was such a loving, generous and enthusiastic person.
The WORST that I attended was for the mother of a dear friend where the priest obviously didn't know her and made inappropriate remarks just trying to say "something" about her. It came out all wrong.
I don't know about you, but I plan to avoid my own funeral.
Dan, that's probably because you were scared of what was going to happen to you.
Catch, unfortunately not all of us have the backbone to not do what we don't want to do.
Gnight, that sounds pretty horrible. Now that Kanye West has shown you how to do it, you know how to take over next time.
Anonymous Becky, your mother was a wonderful person. I don't think you want to have an open mic at the funeral of someone known for spotting other people's faults and telling them about it. More people than just the minister might take the opportunity to get in their shots.
These horror stories make me very grateful that the memorials for two men dear to me--my father's years ago and my brother's just last month--were filled with loving tributes and stories that showed them to be men of integrity committed to those with whom they shared their lives.
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