The Funeral

Yesterday was Michael Lefkow’s funeral. News coverage has been extensive: Chicago Sun-Times; Chicago Tribune here and here; and Channel 2 news. So I don’t need to be another reporter. I saw enough of them yesterday. But the funeral was significant in coming to terms with lessons I’ve learned and with Michael’s and Donna’s horrible deaths. So many layers to one event. Back in a grade-school field trip to the local funeral home, the funeral director told us that funerals were for the living. This one was. I can’t help but hope, however, that somewhere Michael’s essence, his soul, heard and enjoyed every bit of it. It was such a reflection of his life and love. He was so very present in all of us gathered together, even in the people who didn’t particularly like him. That’s a lesson I learned from another extremely painful funeral more than three and a half years ago; when we gather to remember a loved one, we “re-member” that person. Just as the Eucharist is the “re-member-ance” of Christ; we come together as the body of Christ. I especially want to note that the intense security measures allowed us to have the time and space to “re-member” Michael. We were insulated from any would-be attackers and the media frenzy outside, for which I am extremely grateful. The Requiem Eucharist was exactly what it should be: profound worship, and thanksgiving for Michael’s life. The 1979 Book of Common Prayer (BCP) provides a rite for when the body is brought to the church: “Reception of the Body”.

The Celebrant meets the body at the door of the church and says With faith in Jesus Christ, we receive the body of our brother (sister) N. for burial. Let us pray with confidence to God, the Giver of life, that he will raise him to perfection in the company of the saints. Silence may be kept; after which the Celebrant says Deliver your servant, N., O Sovereign Lord Christ, from all evil, and set him free from every bond; that he may rest with all your saints in the eternal habitations; where with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. Let us also pray for all who mourn, that they may cast their care on God, and know the consolation of his love. Silence may be kept; after which the Celebrant says Almighty God, look with pity upon the sorrows of your servants for whom we pray. Remember them, Lord, in your mercy; nourish them with patience; comfort them with a sense of your goodness; lift up your countenance upon them; and give them peace through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

In all the funerals I’ve been at in that church, this was the first time I’d experienced that rite. Over in a flash, but gripping. We had been rehearsing music for the service, but stopped and faced the West doors when the casket was brought in. I can’t find words to depict how deeply respectful it was, but even the youngest probationers were attentive. Profound stillness allowed the simple acts of arrival and reception to be grace-filled. The readings were not from the ones appointed by the BCP for burial, but were so very appropriate: The Old Testament lesson was Ruth 1:6-18, which ends with the “Entreat me not to leave thee” text, often sung at weddings. Considering Michael’s and Joan’s marriage, it was fitting. The New Testament lesson was from Romans 8, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ?... As it is written, ‘For your sake we are being killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep to be slaughtered.’… For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.” The Gospel, chosen by the daughters, was Luke 18:1-8, the parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge. Jackie Schmitt, close friend of the family and Episcopal chaplain at Harvard, preached the sermon, and it is among the best sermons I have ever heard. I don’t think I can possibly do it any justice in a summary, though the various news sources I listed above contain some very good quotes from it. The audio is available, however, from St. Luke’s website, which is better, anyway, as it was an aural event (for anybody with dial-up connection: it’s a huge file). Thanks to Jackie’s sermon, I finally understand the parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge (in the past, preachers have tried to pack God into the role of the Unjust Judge—corrupt, lazy, sloppy?). But now I also finally have a way to explain some experiences. I’ve known that bearing witness to the truth can be quite dangerous, though I’ve never before known someone personally who has lost his or her life because of it. I’ve certainly seen character assassination and personal attacks on both Michael and Joan because of their witness to the truth. And I’ve seen how they remained unbowed, anyway. From them and others like them whom I’ve known at St. Luke’s, I’ve learned how to bear witness, without apology, in the face of those who are threatened by the truth. I have more reflections on the funeral, but those belong to other layers, and so, may be addressed in a future post.