On the 27th of November my brother-in-law, Maj. Michael Moore (USA ret.), died unexpectedly due to liver and pancreatic cancer.
Today I preached at his funeral. It is a sign of the respect and affection in which he was held by many that there were more than 200 people at his funeral.
Here is what I said.
Richard +
Homily for the Funeral of Michael Moore
8 December 2018
The Ven. Richard Geoffrey Leggett
As we gather here today to mourn the death of Michael, we represent a great diversity of religious and philosophical beliefs about life, death and what it means to be a human being. In the light of this diversity I want to share with you two reflections that I hope will speak to all who are here today..
I have been an ordained minister for thirty-seven years. During that time the question that I am asked more often than any other and as recently as two weeks ago is this: Why do bad things happen to good people? Various religious and philosophical beliefs offer widely differing answers. Today is not a day for me to list what those explanations are. What I will say is this: I cannot claim to know why bad things happen to good people. I say this as a person who believes in a loving God who created the universe as an expression of divine love, a God who cares about every living being, a God whose will it is that every living being have a full life lived in dignity and peace. I have no explanation why cancer should so suddenly take Michael’s life or any one else’s life who could have reasonably expected a longer life in the midst of his family and friends. So, there are times when I myself want to raise a fist to heaven and say, ‘If this is the way you treat your friends, it’s no wonder you have so many enemies!’ [1]
What I can say is that I believe that there is a more important question: What do good people do when bad things happen? Michael has died and I cannot change this fact. What I can do is to ask how Michael’s death and, more importantly, his life will affect how I live my life in the days and years ahead. Many of you who are here today come from the medical community. How will the death of your friend and your colleague affect your use of the healing knowledge, skills and experiences you possess? How will this loss empower you in offering compassionate care to your patients and to their families? Some of you who are here today come as members of Michael’s family and his circle of friends. How will Michael’s death affect your commitment to life-giving friendships and family relationships? How will this loss encourage us to care for one another and to strengthen each other as we face the challenges of life?
Something bad has happened to a good man and to his family and friends. What will we, good people all, do in the aftermath of this bad thing? This is the question that I hope we all ponder in the days and weeks to come even as we grieve Michael’s death.
The good news in the midst of this grief is this: We have a powerful tool that can help us discern what we can do in the face of this mystery. It’s called ‘remembering’. There are various kinds of remembering. One kind of remembering is a romantic and often sentimental recalling of the past, especially a past when we were happy or when we thought that the world was perfect. All of us have made just such trips down ‘memory lane’ and, for the most part, these trips are harmless. But there is a potential hazard in such journeys. We can find ourselves in a mental and emotional loop that disconnects us from the present by holding us hostage to our past, whether that past is well-remembered or simply whimsically constructed. The ‘remembering’ that will help us face the present moment is quite different.
The remembering I invite you to explore is a remembering that seeks to bring the positive power of the past into the present so that this power can help us shape the future. Let me give you an example. In Canada, where I have lived for the past thirty-one years, the 11thof November continues to shape the country. At eleven o’clock on the 11thof November, drivers will pull over to the side of the road to spend two minutes in silence to remember those who have given their lives in service to Canada. Just a month ago, in my capacity as the Vicar of the Regimental Church of the Royal New Westminster Regiment, I joined members of the Regiment and dozens of children in decorating the graves of veterans with poppies as part of a national initiative called ‘Leave No Stone Unadorned’. In preparation for the ceremony the children learn about the veterans from their own community of New Westminster and about the challenges that faced those who returned from the wars. It is an act of remembrance intended to bring the power of past sacrifices into the present in order to shape the future.
When we remember Michael and all our loved ones who have gone before us in death, we have an opportunity to do more than simply indulge in nostalgia. By remembering our loved ones, their strengths as well as their weaknesses, their successes as well as their failures, we honour them by building on their legacy, bit by bit, so that love and compassion, justice and dignity, become a more present reality both now and in the future.
Friends, it is right to mourn Michael’s death. It is right to ponder the unfairness of life brought to an end too soon. Even so, may our mourning and our pondering lead us to remember Michael, not only in our hearts and minds, but in our own choices to lead lives of healing and compassion as we leave this place. That is the memorial he and all our loved ones deserve. That is the only memorial that gives meaning and purpose even in the midst of lament.
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