Death as the Great Equalizer
A friend of mine named David died December 24 at 31. I'm not of an age where funerals have become common enough to leave me either jaded or inured of their power. In fact, I tend to look askance at most rituals as having long ago outlived their usefulness. His was an education I would have foregone, but not one I will not waste.
(1) I will wait on and look beneath the iceberg.
A mutual friend Rick, and a closer friend of his, used this metaphor for the departed. Our mutual friend said the departed seemed hard at first took a while to thaw. My friend was more patient, and so had the opportunity to get to know him better.
This was on purpose, as Rick followed a Sunday school "assignment" and purposely set up a weekly lunch date with David and little by little found out what was important to him. As another friend of David's eulogized at the funeral, once you did that, he went from wondering if you could get him to talk to wondering if you could get him to stop.
(2) I will avoid overemphasizing personality types.
I wasn't surprised in the process of helping this temporarily shattered family grieve and adapt who stepped forward to bring compassion in order to the process. I tend to notice those who have the gifts that I don't, or haven't developed. I did have to take out, examine, and at least temporarily discard my tendency for either/or classification. I can tell myself that people either think or feel, and this is not the case. Both people who were able to put their logical, analytical gifts into a widow's service hurt visibly while doing so.
My feelings can't be the deciding factor in whether or not I will minister to someone. (1) They are not automatically bad or even suspect. The Bible declares that the death of His saints is precious in the Lord's sight so grief in its place has a likeness to Him. Even impulses toward bitterness, or anxiety, or immobility, rather than being extracted by fiat, need to be carefully examined in their terms for how they can draw us closer to Him. Serving anyway as I feel, or as I sort out how I feel, can be an opportunity for ready and candid testimony.
(3) I will broaden my definition of ministry and ministers.
Having seen friends I knew better with their gifts, and even their vulnerability, into action and service I was even more aware of my limitations. With the limitations CP imposes on my limbs, what could I do but pass by in the receiving line and give a grieving widow's standing stamina another test? All the real ministry had been done already by those more willing and more able, right?
Instead, Brandi, whom I didn't know well at all, spoke directly to me. I'm counting on you, she said as the receiving line paused. Serious as the occasion was, I can't help but hearing Princess Leia plea to Obi-Wan Kenobi in a way that David would have appreciated. In this case, the real princess in the biblical sense of the word ask for my help. She asked me to tell her something that would help her make sense of this.
For once at a loss for words, I looked at my wife. A noticer of life's details, her subtle and self-forgetful actions tend to answer life's anguish better than my quote dropping. Instead of slinking away from the opportunity, I got validated by both.
With my wife's meaningful encouragement, I got to mention that David's willingness to hoist me in his truck and drive me to work the previous week put me in a place to have a face-to-face conversation about a student's perspective on ministry.
David is, I rejoiced because both Brandi and my wife confirmed that my words had meaning, already enjoying the rewards for such actions that neither of us knew were so close. Those rewards, secondary reverberating impact into a young life, will probably outlast both of ours. Just as setting up tables wasn't within the realm of my ability to help, encouraging career and ministry vision probably wasn't a fit for David's more direct approach.
Yet, by God's grace, ministry gets done. Different people give as God has given to us. By His sovereign synergy, different people experience His deft touch in their moment of need by the different parts of His body.
(1) I will wait on and look beneath the iceberg.
A mutual friend Rick, and a closer friend of his, used this metaphor for the departed. Our mutual friend said the departed seemed hard at first took a while to thaw. My friend was more patient, and so had the opportunity to get to know him better.
This was on purpose, as Rick followed a Sunday school "assignment" and purposely set up a weekly lunch date with David and little by little found out what was important to him. As another friend of David's eulogized at the funeral, once you did that, he went from wondering if you could get him to talk to wondering if you could get him to stop.
(2) I will avoid overemphasizing personality types.
I wasn't surprised in the process of helping this temporarily shattered family grieve and adapt who stepped forward to bring compassion in order to the process. I tend to notice those who have the gifts that I don't, or haven't developed. I did have to take out, examine, and at least temporarily discard my tendency for either/or classification. I can tell myself that people either think or feel, and this is not the case. Both people who were able to put their logical, analytical gifts into a widow's service hurt visibly while doing so.
My feelings can't be the deciding factor in whether or not I will minister to someone. (1) They are not automatically bad or even suspect. The Bible declares that the death of His saints is precious in the Lord's sight so grief in its place has a likeness to Him. Even impulses toward bitterness, or anxiety, or immobility, rather than being extracted by fiat, need to be carefully examined in their terms for how they can draw us closer to Him. Serving anyway as I feel, or as I sort out how I feel, can be an opportunity for ready and candid testimony.
(3) I will broaden my definition of ministry and ministers.
Having seen friends I knew better with their gifts, and even their vulnerability, into action and service I was even more aware of my limitations. With the limitations CP imposes on my limbs, what could I do but pass by in the receiving line and give a grieving widow's standing stamina another test? All the real ministry had been done already by those more willing and more able, right?
Instead, Brandi, whom I didn't know well at all, spoke directly to me. I'm counting on you, she said as the receiving line paused. Serious as the occasion was, I can't help but hearing Princess Leia plea to Obi-Wan Kenobi in a way that David would have appreciated. In this case, the real princess in the biblical sense of the word ask for my help. She asked me to tell her something that would help her make sense of this.
For once at a loss for words, I looked at my wife. A noticer of life's details, her subtle and self-forgetful actions tend to answer life's anguish better than my quote dropping. Instead of slinking away from the opportunity, I got validated by both.
With my wife's meaningful encouragement, I got to mention that David's willingness to hoist me in his truck and drive me to work the previous week put me in a place to have a face-to-face conversation about a student's perspective on ministry.
David is, I rejoiced because both Brandi and my wife confirmed that my words had meaning, already enjoying the rewards for such actions that neither of us knew were so close. Those rewards, secondary reverberating impact into a young life, will probably outlast both of ours. Just as setting up tables wasn't within the realm of my ability to help, encouraging career and ministry vision probably wasn't a fit for David's more direct approach.
Yet, by God's grace, ministry gets done. Different people give as God has given to us. By His sovereign synergy, different people experience His deft touch in their moment of need by the different parts of His body.
Heavy. I do not know if there is a better adjective to describe the feelings of grief at the loss of a friend. Over the past few weeks I have often taken to staring at the obituary of David, gazing at the picture and attempting to comprehend transpiring events since Christmas Eve. In the wake of such an life-altering event, you point out that "ministry gets done" by the whole body, not just a special segment of the church. However, as I read this post, I could not help but think back through my ministry involvement with David.
ReplyDeleteThough I have known him for years, my first thought was that I had ministered to David, rather closely over the last three months. I did, as most people, go back through my text messages and re-read conversations to capture just a few more moments of experience with a life now on another plane. What I found as I went through these motions was that these were not one-way interactions. Rather, I discovered myself to truly be a recipient of ministry work from David.
Of course, David was not on stage speaking, or leading a group discussion, or organizing events but he was engaged, truthful, earnest, kind, and present. As I saw David's life being changed by the work of the Spirit in him, I received grace. When we stood in a cold parking lot and talked about life and how the gospel truly gives us peace from our sins, makes us right with God, and sets us free to live a life filled with the fruit of the Spirit, I received grace. When David told me about his fears, failures, successes, setbacks, hopes, plans, and we conversed about why the gospel mattered in all of these situations, I received grace.
So I can sit here, grieved but thankful for the ministry I received from David and concur with you in praise of the God, who through his own grace accomplishes ministry through us all.
When Keith Green died young, speaking of younger somebody your age no chief Green is?, a friend quoted for his widow, though he be dead, he yet speaks. Seems as though none of us would have wished this, that David's testimony speaks most pronouncedly in his death.
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