The "service" began at 11:00 this morning with an hour for visitation prior to that. As is my custom, I arrived at 10:00 and began playing without interruption until the procession of clergy and family at 11:00. I mention this part (about my playing) with intent. Normally when I play piano for an extended period of time, my surroundings become a blur. When not playing in private, part of me manages to remain mindful that I am treading on someone else's space and maintain a modicum of alertness. This morning I was aware of the movement of folks up and down the aisle and occasionally a few passed by to speak to me. (I'm really not fond of conversing while playing, but one has to be polite, so I speak, or nod, or make some kind of gesture in response.)
Now, imagine. There I sit, moving seamlessly (well, most of the time seamlessly) from one hymn or gospel song to the next. In my mind I hear those songs being sung, and the end of one tends to lead me into the beginning of another. Those who know me well know that despite the hundreds of songs I have learned in the past 50 years or so, I tend to draw on songs I learned in my childhood first, and the preponderance of those are hymns. I good hymn suits me just fine. Oh -- you say you don't know any hymns that are good? Then perhaps you don't know ANY. Before I get of track, I'm making a note to revisit that "hymn" issue. Anyway, in the midst of my playing and responding to an occasional greeting, I am accosted by a woman whose visage was most unpleasant. Actually, there was something spiritually maligned about her -- something I was loathe to deal with. She introduced herself using ALL THREE of her names: I'm A-B-C. Okay, I'm Andrea Hoxie. She then made a point to inform me of her position. My thought: Do I really care? I'll let you answer that. My only response to her was that my presence had been requested, and I continued to play. Needless to say, at the first opportunity she "got me" but good. At least, she probably thinks she did. While her interrupting my acoustic piano with some electronically enhanced stuff caused me to stop playing to avoid the dissonant clash of instruments, it reminded me of one reason why I quit music ministry, which I shall save for another blog. So, what does that have to do with SOME OF HIM IN EACH OF US? Keep reading, and I'll tell you.
During the funeral service, several of the Decedent's co-workers, friends and family spoke. This gave me more insight to this man whom I had known only a few years. I learned quite a bit which made me appreciate him all the more. Was he a saint? Absolutely not! As none of us is. And while nice things were said about him, there was no attempt to canonize him. (Why we tend to canonize the departed is something I have never understood, and having played for at least a thousand funerals [no exaggeration], it's something folks tend to do; but I'll save that for another time.) And I learned that he was at peace with what he knew was the end of this little finite period we call life.
As I sat through the eulogy, this is what stayed with me: God has put Himself (I'll not quibble over the gender issue or try to be poilitically correct here -- I mean HIMself -- refer to Him however you want in your own blog) in each of us. Whether we let Him out is entirely up to each of us. Ms. Three Names who made it a point to treat me with hostility, although I had been invited into her "home" by her "family," chose to cast the spotlight on herself. When we are seeking opportunities to be seen, we are so full of ourselves that we are choking out God like weeds in a field of lilies. (Okay, test: who are we --- the weeds or the lilies?) Rather than show a little grace and welcome me to her space, she was gruff and territorial. (Perhaps I should invite her to my home -- South Main Baptist -- so that she can experience examples of real warmth and welcoming --- perhaps.) On the other hand, the Decedent, whose life we celebrated today, reminded me that God in us will work through us, if we let Him.
So, here's my thought: there is Go[o]d in the worst of us and evil in the best of us, and if we ever get ourselves out of His way, His love will come through us and reach others.
Have you ever considered the many ways we can reach others? It might start with a smile, a gesture, an open door, a note, a word of encouragement. We don't have to be Billy Graham clones to make a difference in the lives of folks whose paths we cross -- sometimes daily.
Leaving you now, with this question: If each of us would get out of God's way, and allow His love to flow through us in even small ways to others, can you imagine the pandemic change in humankind?
Each one who knows Him, reach one. It's not a new concept, but from where I sit it has yet to go viral.
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