What I Planned to Say at My Father's Funeral

My dad died slowly. Peacefully, but slowly. Long before he died, I knew that I would offer a tribute to him during his funeral service.

On the other hand, I knew that I become emotional at times like that and wondered if I could say what I'd planned.

In the end, as the Lord would have it, Lizzie died quickly and heart-wrenchingly the day before the funeral and I was too emotionally raw, during the service, to do anything but weep.

It was a beautiful service and a wonderful day. But, I didn't pay tribute to my dad then.

So, I will now. Here's what I would have said:

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The Book of James in the New Testament defines what true religion is for people who believe in Jesus. It says,

If anyone considers himself religious and yet does not keep a tight reign on his tongue he deceives himself and his religion is useless. 

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: To look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.

In the last years of his life, dad told me things about himself that I didn't know and that helped me to understand him better...and to respect him even more than I had.

He told me about long, and tedious, frustrating days that he'd spent taking women whose husbands had died to appointments at hospitals or doctor's offices or to government offices to deal with legal issues that arise after someone dies.

Interestingly, the frustration dad felt was for the pain of those women who, in the midst of their suffering, then had to deal with cold and uncaring institutions and bureaucracies.

Many of you here know the story of my cousin ______, who was physically abused by his father. When it was too dangerous for ______ to be in the home, dad took him in to our home and, more than that, made him a part of our family.

My dad was very religious in the way most people understand the meaning of the word religion. He was a regular church goer and he was very involved in the church.

But, more importantly, dad was religious in a way most people do not understand.

Dad put into practice the religion talked about in sanctuaries on Sundays. He set himself aside. He put others above himself. He sacrificed. He loved his neighbor as he loved himself.

My dad was truly a religious man.