I attended a funeral on Saturday morning for a man I had never met. He was the husband of a friend, a Methodist minister, and by all accounts, a remarkable man.
Because he had recently been ordained as a minister, after years of preparation and study, there was an added bitterness to the celebration – a life so full of meaning and purpose had been cut short by an infection no one saw coming. He had kissed his wife and son goodbye, gotten on an airplane, and flown around the world to take part in missionary work. Shortly upon arrival, he fell ill, quickly lapsed into a coma, and, once his wife and son arrived, he passed away.
As I sat at the funeral, set it a typical New England protestant church, filled with ministers and mourners, family and friends, I found myself wondering what people would say if this a celebration of my life. John had been, by all accounts, a hard worker, a writer, a wonderful husband and father, and certainly more open about his faith than many.
We were reminded, more than once, of John’s lifetime adaptation of the words of John Wesley: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as ever you can.”
What a great challenge to us all.
When one of the members of John’s congregation spoke about Pastor John’s work, she spoke of his humility, his willingness to reach out to the margins, and his response to every compliment, every mention of goodness, every recognition of light in the world. “Do you remember what he would say?’ she asked the assembly. They responded without hesitation:
“To God be the glory.”
You see, John knew that the ministry in which he was called to participate, the people to whom he was called to go, the words of wisdom he was moved to share – all of these things – had nothing to do with him. He felt a call that disturbed his soul until he answered it and at the very core of his being, he knew that the glory was not his. He was simply the vessel, the conduit, the means to an end.
To God be the glory.
I listened intently to the others who spoke, to the poem his son read aloud, and to the beautiful and emotional tribute his wife delivered. I was moved when one of the ministers reminded those gathered that John always introduced himself because John never felt worthy of being remembered. It’s not an issue with self-esteem, the minister remarked. It’s humility.
I left the celebration two hours after it started, having greeted my friend and shared in her tears. I left wondering if I would ever be brave enough to give God the credit that God is due. I left wishing I had known John and had participated in his remarkable journey.
Most of all, I left remembering that if we are truly in touch with our call, our faith, our ministry, and the Truth we profess each Sunday, we cannot help but react to all that we encounter – good and bad – with John’s refrain.
To God be the glory.
