Recently I received an invitation to conduct a Graveside Memorial Service for a man 50 years old. The invitation came on the morning of the day the Service was to be held.
When I arrived at the Graveside the Funeral Director handed the Death Record. The deceased had no address. He was identified as “Homeless.” My experience in such situations suggested that the Director and I would probably be alone at this grave.
Scarcely had I reached this conclusion when the Director told me that this man – Kenny – had Family coming. Apparently they lived in North Carolina. They’d actually wanted him to come and live with them back there and had struggled with the idea of his living on the Streets. The Arrangements Counselor had written in the Director’s notes that they’d come to accept this as his choice and were prepared to honor him. He then told me that Kenny’s Family had been overwhelmed with the amount of attention his death was getting. They’d come to accept his lifestyle choice. But, in the depths of their hearts they were feeling as if they’d failed him. He’d been a diabetic for a long time but rejected any form of treatment or medication. He died of complications related to the condition. They couldn’t help but feel, “What a waste!” Dieing at 50, from a treatable condition, on the Streets when he could have been Home with them.
What seemed a humiliating tragedy to them was taking on a whole new face. People were seeking them out to tell them their story of life with Kenny. The Director informed me that “a lot of those people” would likely show up that afternoon. And so they did. To say that nearly a hundred folks had come by starting time may be a bit of an exaggeration. But not much! Kenny’s Parents, his Sister and Brother-in-law, Nieces and a Nephew were there. His Mother was deeply distraught. His Father quietly took it all to heart. His Friends were highly emotional and talkative. They spoke informally and, later, formally about a man who knew no enemies. They told of his attention to them. He had, they said, a “ready ear.” He cared about the stuff they cared about. They talked about what had become of him and many of them assured me that he was “in Heaven.”
When the Service began I talked about the merciful love of our Lord Jesus and the hope His mercy has gotten for anyone who would trust Him. I asked Kenny’s Friends and Family if Kenny trusted Jesus. Their response was an enthusiastic, “YES!” After praying I invited Friends and Family to share a memory; a tribute. And the floodgates opened. One guy said, “He always listened to my whining.” A woman, apparently old enough to be his Grandmother said, “When I wondered if anybody loved me, Kenny always assured me he did.” One after another, in simple yet profound heartfelt words, declared that the City of Whittier had been a better place ever since Kenny lost his job two years ago and joined them on the Streets. They lamented his passing with remorse over what seemed now to be lost.
One man read a Psalm of tribute to our Lord but he read it as a tribute to his longtime Friend Kenny. It would have been easy to fuss over the misappropriation of a tribute to the Divine. But that afternoon I realized that this simple man’s life had become, to his Friends, a tribute to the God they’d never really known ‘til they got to know Kenny!
There were reporters there taking pictures and recording these expressions of affection. Kenny’s Brother-in-law, a successful Attorney gave the Eulogy. A USC football great and veteran of the NFL stepped forward spontaneously, voluntarily to tell of his Friendship with Kenny and the truly Christian way he had with people whether of high repute or low. If there were any dry eyes at this grave that afternoon there were none when this widely respected sports figure told of Kenny’s last words to him. While running he came upon Kenny sleeping beside the path. Hearing the footsteps he stirred. From the comfort of his blanket by the riverside bike path, he said, “Hey Bro! Why’re ya runnin’? Ya runnin’ from the cops?” They laughed about that. Then Kenny said, “I love ya Bro!” “I love you too, Kenny,” his unlikely Friend responded. They never spoke again.
As I watched and listened to these remarkable goings on I realized that our Father in Heaven had, by His Sovereign arrangements, given me a “front row seat,” for a dramatic demonstration of how He uses the “weak things of the world to overwhelm and befuddle the powerful.”
I told the grieving Parents, Family, and Friends that afternoon, and I tell you now, that I was highly honored to have been among those paying tribute to one of God’s VIP’s.
“Brothers, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. He chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: ‘Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.’” (1 Corinthians 1: 26 - 32)
Friday, January 29, 2010
What Gives You Significance
Boise State won the Fiesta Bowl this year!
Because our Son, Jon, and his Family lived in Boise for several years I called to congratulate him. I was completely surprised to hear him say he wanted the other Team, TCU, to win.
His explanation made sense. “The people of Boise live vicariously through that Team.” He’d lived there long enough to have the right to make such an assessment. But what did he mean by it? “They’ve found their identity and significance in their University’s winning Football Team.” His next statement really got my attention. “I like the line, ‘I live vicariously through myself.’”
This is our Son speaking. He’s a devout Christ-follower. Now, here he is sounding like Frank Sinatra. “I did it my way!”
But is that what he really meant?
The more I think about it the more I realize he could have meant something much more profound.
To live vicariously is to experience or realize something through imaginative or sympathetic participation in the experience of another. The people of Boise, our Son was suggesting, found a sense of worth in their “Broncos.”
Truthfully, we who are serious Christ-followers actually realize something similar through actual participation in the experience of another. In a very real sense we find our significance vicariously.
Psalm 139 is one I read often. In this “song” – that’s what most Psalms are – King David is overwhelmed with the realization of how attentive and caring God is toward him. “Such knowledge,” he writes, “is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence!” It’s not as if he wanted to escape God’s presence. He is simply amazed at the magnitude of His interest; His concern for every detail of someone’s life. He is so amazed that he can’t stop talking about it. “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!” (Psalm 139: 13 – 18 New Living Translation)
David is talking here about something that is, by his own admission, “too great for (him) to understand.” It is, without question, the experience of another. And yet he is singing about it as if it were his own reality. And it is. David is finding ecstasy in the attentive, creative beneficence of his God. He has been made “wonderfully complex.” God did that. His development, from conception to birth was managed by the Creator of all things great and small. God thinks “about me,” he exclaims, thoughts that “cannot be numbered.” He lives under the infinite wisdom and intricately discerning oversight of the same being who scatters the stars and galaxies across the heavens and designs the path determined for every one of them.
David finds great significance in knowing this! He knows he’s somebody because he knows whose he is. He is living vicariously through himself. We can too.
Look at it this way.
Realizing how highly God values me
I live,
in step with His purpose,
confidently,
courageously,
enthusiastically,
expectantly …
Our true selves are fully realized as we experience this esteem in which our Creator/God holds us. This is, in fact, what Jon meant when he said, “I live vicariously through myself.”
We, Christ-followers are “Vicarious Selves.”
Because our Son, Jon, and his Family lived in Boise for several years I called to congratulate him. I was completely surprised to hear him say he wanted the other Team, TCU, to win.
His explanation made sense. “The people of Boise live vicariously through that Team.” He’d lived there long enough to have the right to make such an assessment. But what did he mean by it? “They’ve found their identity and significance in their University’s winning Football Team.” His next statement really got my attention. “I like the line, ‘I live vicariously through myself.’”
This is our Son speaking. He’s a devout Christ-follower. Now, here he is sounding like Frank Sinatra. “I did it my way!”
But is that what he really meant?
The more I think about it the more I realize he could have meant something much more profound.
To live vicariously is to experience or realize something through imaginative or sympathetic participation in the experience of another. The people of Boise, our Son was suggesting, found a sense of worth in their “Broncos.”
Truthfully, we who are serious Christ-followers actually realize something similar through actual participation in the experience of another. In a very real sense we find our significance vicariously.
Psalm 139 is one I read often. In this “song” – that’s what most Psalms are – King David is overwhelmed with the realization of how attentive and caring God is toward him. “Such knowledge,” he writes, “is too wonderful for me, too great for me to understand! I can never escape from your Spirit! I can never get away from your presence!” It’s not as if he wanted to escape God’s presence. He is simply amazed at the magnitude of His interest; His concern for every detail of someone’s life. He is so amazed that he can’t stop talking about it. “You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother’s womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it. You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion, as I was woven together in the dark of the womb. You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed. How precious are your thoughts about me, O God. They cannot be numbered! I can’t even count them; they outnumber the grains of sand! And when I wake up, you are still with me!” (Psalm 139: 13 – 18 New Living Translation)
David is talking here about something that is, by his own admission, “too great for (him) to understand.” It is, without question, the experience of another. And yet he is singing about it as if it were his own reality. And it is. David is finding ecstasy in the attentive, creative beneficence of his God. He has been made “wonderfully complex.” God did that. His development, from conception to birth was managed by the Creator of all things great and small. God thinks “about me,” he exclaims, thoughts that “cannot be numbered.” He lives under the infinite wisdom and intricately discerning oversight of the same being who scatters the stars and galaxies across the heavens and designs the path determined for every one of them.
David finds great significance in knowing this! He knows he’s somebody because he knows whose he is. He is living vicariously through himself. We can too.
Look at it this way.
Realizing how highly God values me
I live,
in step with His purpose,
confidently,
courageously,
enthusiastically,
expectantly …
Our true selves are fully realized as we experience this esteem in which our Creator/God holds us. This is, in fact, what Jon meant when he said, “I live vicariously through myself.”
We, Christ-followers are “Vicarious Selves.”
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