I had a very illuminating conversation
at the Sunday family lunch recently. Sadly, my Uncle's nephew Roy, on the other
side of the family, took ill and recently died. Although he was a nephew like
me, he was much older due to the wide age gaps between my Uncle and his many
siblings. Still, his passing was untimely, as he was only in his sixties. I’d
never met the man and only learned of his funeral—which happened yesterday—after the fact. According to my Aunt and Uncle, the people who in attendance
painted quite the picture of the Roy's life, one that was pretty surprising to
them.
It appears that Roy, who was widely
regarded as a black sheep on that side of the family, was living quite an
interesting life. He'd been a source of some concern for the family over his
refusal to attend church or have anything to do with organized forms of
religion for many decades now. To the older generation (all well into their
70's and 80's), attendance is not only mandatory, but is one of the only
barometers of a moral lifestyle. This is a tight-knit family, and they loved
Roy very much, but never could understand his disdain for Church. This attitude
is one that I've been aware of my whole life, and will often gently challenge
and speak against.
I'm not looking for a fight at the
Sunday dinner table, because these really are salt of the earth kinds of people
who don't just espouse virtuous beliefs, but live by them. They volunteer at
the mission, give to charity, and have taken in all manner of wayward souls in
need of a roof over their head and food in their belly. Including Lindsay for a
brief time, as well as myself in my younger days. The world has no shortage of
those that will talk the talk, but not walk the walk, but these people are an
example of the exact opposite of that. They are wise, kind, and compassionate,
and yet totally set in their way of thinking. So I don't go after it with
hammer and tongs, but with gentle cajoling and a steady drip-drip-drip of mild
challenge and dissent.
Obviously they were quite upset by
Roy's untimely passing, as anyone would be, but they were quite impressed by
the turn-out at his funeral. It wasn’t just in the number of people that they
found so moving, but the testimony that this myriad of souls offered about
Roy’s impact in their lives. It seems that quite a number of people that got up
to share were homeless people, friends that he'd made at the local coffee shop
while he was buying them coffee and chatting with them over the years. By turn,
employees at the coffee shop talked about him paying their utility bills when
they were hurting for money, and veterans arose to speak about all the time he
spent listening to their war stories and traumas. Eventually the Church had to
shut down the remarks portion of the service because it just kept going and
going, with a line out to the door.
It was both interesting and sad to me
that my family got to meet this man, that they thought they knew, for the first
time at his funeral. When seen through the eyes of others, and judged by the impact
he had on the lives around him, they had an entirely different perspective on
Roy. I felt kind of sorry for them, because they couldn't see the man who was
in front of them, only who he appeared to be when viewed through preconceived
notions.
After I heard that story I said,
"Going to Church makes you a Christian like standing in the garage makes
you a Cadillac. Attendance doesn’t mean much, because the world isn’t changed
by our beliefs, but by our example." I mean, what kind of a superstar do
you have to be to have homeless people track you down to speak at your funeral?
My God, what a breathtaking legacy.
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