Have I told you about the time I crashed a funeral?
If not, you can read more about that experience below. I remembered it today when I read this part of Ecclesiastes:
You learn more at a funeral than at a feast—
After all, that's where we'll end up.
We might discover something from it.
I certainly did. Memories of a stranger's funeral still stick in my brain more than two and a half years later. Take a look at this:
My secret life as a funeral crasher
(Originally posted on September 6, 2007)
Last week I went to the funeral of a complete stranger. [ In case you're wondering--no, I'm not planning on writing a movie/book called "Funeral Crashers" :) ] My boss and I actually went to support a co-worker who was a very close family friend (the man who died was like a second father to her). Not to sound completely morbid, but it's amazing what you can learn about someone at their funeral.
If you know me, you know I'm not really a crier. That's why it was so strange to find myself completely misty-eyed at a stranger's funeral. It's exactly one week later. And some of the words and themes from this stranger's funeral are still ringing in my head--so I thought I'd share them with you.
"Love outside the lines."
This was the theme of the minister's message, but what probably stands out more were the stories of the man who passed away exemplifying this characteristic--and the stories were really simple. A guy who helped complete strangers move. Who bought softball equipment for kids on the team who couldn't afford it. A guy who loved his neighbors as family. A man who made an event--a BBQ or poker game--just a bit cooler by simply being there and giving respect to those around him.
I don't know if the man who passed away was a Christian...I didn't know him at all (hence the funeral crashing). But his "love outside the lines" expressed a glimpse of God's generous and extravagant love toward people. I hope that I can learn love "love outside the lines" more often--even in the little things.
"10 Reasons to Have Hope"
The deceased man's brother-in-law gave a short reading on "10 Reasons to Have Hope" based on key Scriptures. I wish I had a copy of it ... but it was just a cool reminder that we can always have hope in a God who understands our humanity, walks beside us and has a purpose for our lives.
"It's clear he was loved. But more importantly, he was respected."
These words came during the "open mic" section of the service from a man in the audience. I think they struck me because it was interesting to hear a man talk about another man in his own words. (If you've read the book Love and Respect, you'll know what I mean). The men who spoke of the deceased mentioned his love for his family, but talked more about his integrity, work ethic, insight, character--and the validation they found from him simply as a guy they were proud to call their friend.
"How Great Thou Art"
To close the (VERY traditional) service, we sang "How Great Thou Art." I don't think I have sung that song since high school--I'm much more into modern worship music. But there was something pretty powerful about a gathering of strangers (Christian and not) at a funeral singing "How Great Thou Art," a song that is all about standing in "awesome wonder" of God's greatness and power. At that moment, my tears faded and I stood in gratitude and praise of this God I have the privilege of actually knowing ... the God who loves me ... that I can actually call my friend. The God that continually teaches me new things every single day. Even through a debut as a funeral crasher.
Tomorrow: Ecclesiastes 9-12
