A Life Well Lived

I went to a funeral today. At least that's what they used to call it. Maybe it is not appropriate to call it that anymore because there was no casket; the body had been interned 2 hours previously. So these events have become called Memorial Services. Or Celebrations of Life.

Well, today's event was indeed a joyous celebration. However, the deceased would probably have been somewhat uncomfortable at all the attention he got, but who knows? It was certainly deserved. To borrow another common expression, his was indeed "a life well lived."

The event celebrated the life of our Great Uncle Bill, formally known as William E Thiessen. As even one of his 3 sons noted, no one knew what E stood for. One speaker who had known him in his younger days said he had adopted it because he thought made him look more distinguished! Perhaps what he really wanted to do was distinguish himself from other William Thiessens. I know my maternal grandfather added the letter M between his first and last name for that purpose, to distinguish himself from other Frank Ennses. In days gone by people were not given the multi-handled names they have nowadays.

But this is the same uncle of whom we saw pictures playing a guitar and tuba taken in his Bible school days, but which he had confessed to a friend were only taken to impress his wife-to-be! He never knew how to play either instrument.

Bill was an individual born to a mother who died months later of the Spanish flu in 1919. Some members of his family revealed today that this was something that had bothered him all his life of 96 years, never knowing his mother. Indeed, nowadays mental health professionals might wonder what kind of attachment problems he had developed and how suitable he would be in relationships. They might look at his career as a pastor and his family relationships from children down to great-grandchildren and think that the affirmation he seemed to give to everyone he met was a sign of neediness based on that past, looking for love and affirmation.

We know better. It was the sign of a man totally given in the service of a Master he loved dearly. The Master was none other than Jesus Christ. We are enjoined in Scripture to imitate Christ. Indeed, Uncle Bill, as everyone knew him, did just that. One can only imagine that the way he made everyone who knew him feel must only be a taste of the way Jesus made those around him feel when he walked this earth.

Bill understood that he was who he was because of those who had gone on before, the great "cloud of witnesses" referred to in Hebrews chapter 12. He appreciated that legacy and did his best to pass it on. Indeed, as his descendants were reminded today, what they enjoyed is because of who he was. Even the Old Testament tells us that God “punishes the sins of the fathers to the 3rd and 4th generation,” but for “those who are righteous and faithful to him, he blesses them for thousands of generations.”

It saddens me to see how many of our generation have turned their backs on this wonderful legacy that goes back for centuries if not millennia. Who do we think we are that we know better than all those who came before and no longer need to fear (and here I'm using the positive biblical definition of this term, not the vernacular' being afraid') God?

The geography of our large country having the impact that it does on our mobile and extended families nowadays, even though my father had essentially grown up with Uncle Bill as a brother (they are only 2 years apart in age), I did not really get to know and appreciate the man for who he was until we moved to BC and a 45-minute drive away nearly 10 years ago now. The only time I really recall meeting him before was when our family had stayed at his place over the weekend and attended the church with him that he pastored in Linden, Alberta, when we were on our way to visit her grandparents in BC and attend one of our uncles' weddings. I really have no other memories of that event.

But when we met him here in BC, when he was already in his late 80s, we experienced what so many shared today. This man, who carried his Bible with him almost till he died, and always told everyone that he was praying for them, had a most special way of giving you his attention in such a warm enthusiastic way that you could not help but be attracted to him. Again, I say, what a reflection of his Master. Even my wife, coming from a different culture as she does, was truly taken by him. Often when we would make a trip to the Fraser Valley, it was prefaced by a call to him to see if he wanted to join us for lunch or dinner or come with us to some event we were attending. Indeed, our uncles and aunts always included him in our gatherings, particularly when he was pretty much the only one left of his generation and already a widower. Knowing how many people he knew and how little he really knew us, and for how short a time, I would usually remind him whom I was when I called. You could just hear the recognition and see the smile on his face, as he would brightly inquire about how we were. Indeed, as it was said today, he was one of those saints whom when you went to visit, even when he was in hospital for the last time, would end up cheering you up and praying for you, when you had thought you had gone to do the same for him.

Uncle Bill, you have gone to your reward. May we be be faithful to carry on imitating your Master as wonderfully as you did.