Eulogy...

The passing of a President of the United States is always a gripping, and sad event. George Herbert Walker Bush's passing at age 94 elicited quite a series of editorial cartoons and Facebook memes about how wonderful it was that he was reunited with his wife, Barbara, and daughter, Robin, in heaven, and these are certainly nice sentiments. We are comforted by such thoughts, not just for our former Chief Executive and family, but for our own loved ones and friends at the time of a death. Our faith "kicks in" strongly when a dear one passes, helping us imagine them being "welcomed home" by Jesus or greeting family who have gone before, at the "Pearly Gates." Given that scripture doesn't really give us much of a picture of the afterlife, we are free to let our imaginations run wild, and the fact that we have such imaginations, and the desire to use them to picture a loving, receiving realm like heaven--even heaven of the movies--complete with a cast of loved ones on the welcoming committee, certainly must be a gift from God. Maybe this "tendency" we have is actually a kind of backdoor "proof" of there even being a God?

We bid you "adieu," President George H.W. Bush, or as we have come to know you after your son ascended the throne, too--"Bush 41." And, while, as a person of faith, I DO hope we get to see you again, I would be even happier if we could see "your kind" return to the seat of power here in the U.S.A. While neither you nor your son, Bush 43, were any kind of orator, I can still see you saying--quite decisively to a gaggle of reporters asking you about Iraq's invasion of Kuwait--"This WILL NOT STAND!" Years later, I saw an interview with Colin Powell, who was Chairman of the Joint Chiefs when you made that pronouncement. Powell said he saw the report on TV, and immediately called the rest of the military brass to let them know that we were going to war with the Iraq and their Republican Guard. There was no doubt, because he knew you always meant what you said. Period. Oh, and Bush 43? When the attacks of September 11 happened, he spoke very plainly and forcefully when he condemned ANY violence against American Muslims and mosques, saying they were peaceful people, and should not be punished for the actions of a few foreign extremists. AND, any of us who were here at that time remember him standing with the first responders at the ruins of the Twin Towers in New York, and speaking words of gratitude to them. And when one of them shouted out, "We can't hear you!" over the din of bulldozers in the background, Bush 43, extemporaneously shouted back,"I can hear you! The rest of the world hears you! And the people – and the people who knocked these buildings down will hear all of us soon." These two responses were the kind of leadership we expect and hope for in a President, regardless of how you feel the later war with Iraq unfolded.

Eulogies often focus on the "goods" of a person's life, and that's not a bad thing. The "fits" and failures of a departed friend or loved one don't need punctuated, as, if we knew them and loved them, we know these full well. The best eulogies point out the celebratory successes of the departed, and/or tells of some little known, or even unknown, stories or events of that person's life that brought inspiration, blessing, or resolve to another in their orbit. Eulogies of heads of state may seek to make the leader "bigger than life," although I'm not sure that is possible, considering that, as a head of state, they had at least one major success--they won a national election. Even our current President has that as a legacy, regardless of how hard he may be working to undo it, at least in many people's view. Both Bush 43 and "Poppy" faced crises of aggression and responded with strong resolve. I give 41 credit for building a great multi-nation coalition, forcing Iraq out of Kuwait, and then coming home. 43 spoke for a hurting nation when he stood on the pile of rubble next to an improvised shrine in New York City. As history rolls on, they will be remembered for these good words and acts of courage. Much of the folly that also crept into their terms (especially with the mire of the Iraq war under 43) will fall away. The current occupant of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue would do well to go to school on these ideas, if he hopes to have a nice eulogy spoken of himself some day.

We're not heads of state, though, are we? What of our legacies? What of our own eulogies we are still either providing fodder for, or putting up so badly that our survivors will have to make up a lot of stuff to be able to say something nice about us? This is where we have one advantage over the dead--we are still "writing" our eulogies! Bush 43 did a lot this week to bare his heart to America and show us something. How about you? When I officiate at funeral or memorial services, I take stock of my own life, knowing that my turn at the stile may be sooner than I think. I don't want my family to have to make up stories to convince anyone that I wasn't just a waste of 98 cents worth of chemicals and a few quarts of water. And I also say a prayer to God, asking for a fresh positioning of myself under the redeeming, inclusive, and forgiving grace God has offered me through my faith in Christ. By the way, I will not apologize to anyone that I believe God is working in people's hearts of every faith that leads them to seek God's favor and motivates them to love their neighbor as themselves. This is why I am proud that part of my faith legacy is the interfaith relationships I have sought to form as I have matured. These, too, are children of the Most High God.

A few weeks ago, I wrote my own obituary. Try it, and be honest about yourself. Then, from time to time, look at it. How are you doing, keeping up with how you want to be remembered? It's a sobering exercise, believe me. I have learned, though, that I would rather fix my life than re-edit my obit, so that's something. 

One more thing: when the great people--the luminaries--pass, pause, stop what you are doing, and listen to the words said about them. Listen to their "familiars" and the platitudes they offer, but also listen for the honest assessments of those in the "other camp"--those who had reasons to dislike or be hostile toward them. It's also an education. I will never forget that awe-inspiring scene of former Senator Robert Dole fighting to his feet to offer a salute to a deceased contemporary, an adversary, and one who sent him to political defeat. Through personal tears, I could hear John Mellencamp's lyrics, "Ain't that America!"