Funerals Are Funny Things

You often learn more about a man on the day he is committed to God than in the years you knew him.

We just came back from a memorial service to a man who was a hero, a mentor, and who radically transformed our neighbourhood from the haunt of the first seasons of “Cops” to what it is today.

The gang members and the drug dealers are not quite all gone, but the days of running gun battles and constant fear are. And while many people worked on that over many years, my neighbour Steve Apling was one of a handful who drove that change.

I say it was a memorial service, but it was more in the character of a wake than a funeral. Perhaps that has something to do with our modern age’s distrust for liturgy, perhaps it has to do with the traditions of the little Lutheran congregation where it was held. Everybody has different traditions.

Steve would have been appalled at all the attention paid him, and all the thanks, and all the kind words. The Chief of Police presented an award to Steve’s brother. Had Steve been alive, he would have refused it.

Wakes are important – a celebration of a person’s life helps those left behind grieve, or at least start the grieving process. Proper funeral rites are important as well, and Steve had those in his family’s hometown a month ago or more now.

In the Catholic tradition, the funeral liturgy seems to have become a wake as well, and let me tell you I sincerely hope that when my time comes, the priest has the good sense to stick to the liturgy and not let people up at the ambo with a lot of fool remembrances about me. Sing the Requiem, sing the Dies Iræ. Commend my body to the grace and mercy of God in full rite, because that helps people say goodbye as well.

Then head down to the hall, tap a keg, and sit around drinking and telling stories about what a great/horrible/indifferent human being I was. Please. Sing terrible Monty Python songs. Tell the one about the time the river flowed through our campfire.

Don’t raise a glass to me, raise ten. And if any of you louts waste a beer by pouring it out onto the ground, I will personally take time out from my very busy Purgatorial schedule to haunt your nightmares.

For Steve’s memory, I will rededicate myself to making our neighbourhood a better place. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve a glass to lift and a prayer to offer.