Little Girls, Sr. Citizens, and How a Funeral Really Goes…

I’ve had a hard time writing since the funeral, as everything seems so trite in comparison. So here’s my feeble attempt to unpack my weekend…

So how does a funeral really “go?”
People have been kind to me all weekend asking me “How did it go?” I know what they mean. They mean, “We’re thinking of you,” “We’re with you,” “We’ve prayed,” or “We’re sorry for all of this.” It’s rather encouraging to know that many are so concerned for Branden’s family and for those who knew him.

But how does a funeral really go? Can we say “good?” Funerals are horrible. No matter how look at them, they are about loss of loved one. We can say that one who has died is “with Jesus in heaven” but that only reminds me that this same one is not here with us… there’s little comfort in that at all, especially for a family.

Do we say that a funeral goes ‘badly?” I can’t vouch for this either. Christian funerals embrace the grief of a loss in a loved one but hold on to the present hope rooted Jesus’ resurrection and the resurrection of all things. The grave is not the end, though now we feel it’s devastating effects.

I guess a funeral… is a funeral… and is filled with “If onlys…”, grief, and hope all balled up into one. It’s certainly not linear. I don’t think one ever really gets over a death. Those who love deeply, grieve deeply. Those who love a lifetime, grieve a lifetime. Maybe that’s why John sees Jesus bursting into tears. The face of Jesus, for me this week, is a person with bloodshot eyes… and continual tears.

So a funeral goes. And as this past funeral went… I discovered something about myself. A few images have been seared into my memory…

First, during the wake, there was an adorable little girl, maybe 3 years old, standing by her parents, oblivious that here she was next to the coffin… and she was dancing in her little three-year-old way. I couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast of a grieving line of people and, next to them, a dancing 3 year old. Though it’s not true throughout the world, I see a protection over kids from having to face life’s hard realities to soon. She wanted to dance. She felt like dancing at the wake. Truthfully, there was something beautiful and hopeful in it.

Second, I noticed that older people knew how to handle death better than younger adults.
I never know what to say. I fumble for words and feel completely inadequate. Older people who have been through death seem to have a calming effect on me. They speak good words. They are present … almost comfortable. I found myself staring at the older generation to find grounding in the mist of so much upheaval around me and in me.

And so I thought about myself.
I think I just want to just dance… all the time.
I want to be oblivious to tragedy around me and find some excuse to dance and play and ignore the hard parts of life. I even find myself getting frustrated when hard times take me away from my dancing… and I long for more of what the older generation has… an embracing, rather than an avoiding of death.

This isn’t pessimism.
Nor is it the end of dancing.
But maybe I’m discovering how much of a hard-life aversion I have. And this aversion is creating in me a myopic view of the world.

The more I embrace death and suffering, the more solidarity I have with the world and this is where hope may find it’s greatest meaning. This seems to be the way of a dancing and blood-shot eyed Jesus who embraces the cross and calls us to do the same…


These words were my mantra for me and others this weekend. Thank you David Crowder…

Deliver me out of the sadness
Deliver me from all the madness
Deliver me courage to guide me
Deliver me Your strength inside me

All of my life
I've been in hiding
Wishing there was someone just like You
Now that You're here
Now that I've found You
I know that You're the One to pull me through

Deliver me loving and caring
Deliver me giving and sharing
Deliver me this cross that I'm bearing

Oh, deliver me

Jesus, Jesus how I trust You
How I've proved You o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus precious Jesus
Deliver me
Come and pull me through
Come pull me through