That's life!

The week.

My brother-in-law, Alex Webster whose funeral I led. A big man with a big heart.

Some Christmas dinner pics.

Our Community Christmas day dinner feels like it was a long time ago, there has been so much in this week. (well I guess it was last year now?) We had family from up north staying. A tramp across the Dunedin hills with my son on Tuesday and a family birthday. Then on Tuesday afternoon I learned of the death of my brother-in-law. On Wednesday morning I drove the 362 kilometres to Christchurch (I took 4 hours - google maps suggested 5.5?) and sat in on the meeting of the funeral director with my sister and family. I spent the rest of the day speaking and listening with members of the family. On Thursday I worked all day on stuff for the funeral and on Friday, some more preparation then I conducted it, except we called it a "celebration". On Saturday we drove home to attend another brother-in-law's 80th birthday party. Today I led the normal Sunday morning service.
A Christmas dinner stories
There is a man who was a fire fighter when I first began as chaplain at the fire stations. He now contracts to the fire service for running special virtual training sessions. I had been talking to him at the fire station and he said he might call at our Christmas dinner. Well he called in early and later came back, installed himself at the kitchen sink and washed copious quantities of dishes.  I discovered him in the kitchen joking with my wife and a lovely Indian lady we have at church.  He kept at it long after most blokes would give up, then he went to a family Christmas event where he said he would probably have to do more dishes. As we shook hands warmly I thanked him and he thanked me. The Christmas day dinner was full of stories like that. A lady well into her eighties who has not long recovered from a broken hip, came and dished out meals. Last year her husband said they thought it would be the last year they would assist, but no, in spite of difficulties they were there this year to give a helping hand. I talked to one younger man. I asked him how many of our Christmas dinners he had volunteered at. He said, "This is number 15... I love it!" We have a guy who I think has probably attended every Christmas day dinner. He used to be the street sweeper in town. He came to me and said, "I haven't put my name down. Is it alright if I come?" "Yes Ken, we'll have a meal for you!" I replied. "I knew you would Dave." I later spoke to him and as he looked at the multitude he said, "I remember coming when there was only 50 here!"
The funeral
I feel so sad for my sister. She had only had less than three years of marriage with this man she really loved. For the last year of that at least, he had been battling cancer. I had to lead the funeral. I do a lot of work for every funeral I lead but this one was different. How would I cope with my sister's sadness while leading the funeral? I was struggling with sadness myself, and added to that was a deep sense of guilt that I had not got back up to Christchurch to see Alex before he died! I spent a lot of time at the house listening to my sister and others and getting what they wanted in what we were calling a "celebration". I worked on the funeral service, stewing over every word, shaping it to include the various elements they wanted included. There were a number of speakers and an open time was planned.  I also felt it was necessary to talk about unfair suffering and death and some perspectives on "life after death", ever so briefly. When I got to the Church I decided on taking a different approach. Instead of standing behind the lectern in a formal way, I thought I would stand beside the communion table or lectern and be more open, informal or inclusive in my approach. It would mean less dependency on my notes but I thought it would allow me to be more "with" the mourners. It was a risk, but I thought it worth taking.  I grew even more nervous when I recognised at least six other ministers in the congregation! "They are going to think I am nuts! This is not the "normal" way to conduct a funeral." I thought to myself, but I still felt compelled to do it. There were well around 120 people there. Here is some of the feedback I got. "That was superb!" "That was an awesome service." "It was simply beautiful" "You are an expert communicator." "You touched people in a very real way." "That was spot on! Just so helpful." "It was so genuine and real." "I found it to be a very healing service." "You talked in a way that non-church goers could identify with it." etc. etc. While I was leading I felt good about the vibes. People were "with me and with each other".  The funeral was well led, it was effective ministry to people. I felt I did not "get in the way", but rather facilitated a healing event.  I was pleased to do that for my sister.  I felt, from a professional point of view, I was "on top of my game". Age in ministry is not all bad. Because you have been around awhile you are able to read the sort of people you are dealing with. You are experienced enough to know how to respond to their needs and confident enough to try something different.  While sad for my sister, I was pleased to be able to offer effective ministry via the funeral service. I came home with a deep sense of satisfaction and fulfillment.