Monday, December 14, 2009

For a Funeral


The Rich Man and Lazarus
"There was a rich man who was dressed in purple and fine linen and lived in luxury every day. At his gate was laid a beggar named Lazarus, covered with sores and longing to eat what fell from the rich man's table. Even the dogs came and licked his sores.
"The time came when the beggar died and the angels carried him to Abraham's side. The rich man also died and was buried. In hell,[a] where he was in torment, he looked up and saw Abraham far away, with Lazarus by his side. So he called to him, 'Father Abraham, have pity on me and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am in agony in this fire.'

"But Abraham replied, 'Son, remember that in your lifetime you received your good things, while Lazarus received bad things, but now he is comforted here and you are in agony. And besides all this, between us and you a great chasm has been fixed, so that those who want to go from here to you cannot, nor can anyone cross over from there to us.'

"He answered, 'Then I beg you, father, send Lazarus to my father's house, for I have five brothers. Let him warn them, so that they will not also come to this place of torment.'

"Abraham replied, 'They have Moses and the Prophets; let them listen to them.'

" 'No, father Abraham,' he said, 'but if someone from the dead goes to them, they will repent.'

"He said to him, 'If they do not listen to Moses and the Prophets, they will not be convinced even if someone rises from the dead.' "
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As a child the words of the song "Cats in the Cradle" resonated for me. I was estranged with my dad from birth until his death. My parents had separated before I was born, but got back together when I was five to support my sick sister Pamela until she died when I was eleven. I was frightened of this man, and used to cry which would make him more frightening. After my parents divorced I spoke to a court appointed member regarding his beatings of me, and that soured things later. He stopped beating me with his second wife on the scene, but he disowned me too. On one occasion, in my twenties, he indirectly apologized, explaining that he couldn't help himself. His last words to me were to tell me he wasn't interested in anything I was doing. I smiled and called back for him to 'stay in touch.'
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I don't want people to feel that he was anything other than a compassionate man who worshipped reason. He loved me, although he struggled to like me. He attended fellowship in the presbyterian church as a teenager, as children of his generation did. But as a young man he rejected God, although it was clear from his discussions on the matter he was aware of the subtleties of grace and forgiveness, more so than many faithful. He may have embraced God in his later years, but never did he say this to me. I became a committed Christian when I was 18. Yet although we may appear to be theologically polar opposites, our positions had been similar. I was raised an atheist and the story of Christ's miracles (or the apostles or those that followed) left me uninterested. I didn't care for the resurrection except in symbolic terms. My conversion happened when I began to accept that god was possible, and not this miraculous figure spoken of by those my father ridiculed. And even then, it was the story of Jesus at Gethsemany that finally convicted me. I now attend a pentecostal church and I love God. I recognize I may say things that other Christians disagree with, but I may respectfully ignore them, in similar terms as Global warming scientists are still called scientists by other scientists.
My father was a great man who lead a life anyone would be proud to call their own. He was willing to fight for what was right, and many children around the world benefit from his work today. As ridiculous as Rudd's Education Revolution is, and shambolic, yet still there is an echo of one of my father's gifts to the world of education as students network computers. He was inspirational and students of his, some from the mid fifties, maintained life long friendships.
He died of a heart attack at a good age. He had gone to play bridge, (a game he adored) at a club. He was sick in his later years, but he always retained his quick intelligence, his humor to the very end.
I have not covered all that I may wish, perhaps others will touch on other important things. But I want to ask those who do not know who God is, what it is this compassionate, reasonable man might say if he were to speak to us now. Knowing, from death, about what is important in life? Hence the bible reading of Luke 16:19-31.

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