On Raw Days

I attended a clergy funeral today. For the Rev. Al Clipp.

Two things are sadly noteworthy for me in particular about this.

One: it’s now been nearly two years since I attended my last clergy funeral.

Two: My last clergy funeral was my brother’s. Seven months before that, my grandfather’s. And five months before that, my father’s.

In the intervening years, there have been other services for dear colleagues. This was the first I could attempt.

It was every bit as difficult as I feared.

This is true partly for the very reasons I have made it through all of this: the support of the clergy colleagues who knew these three men, these dear family of mine. Even as we gathered, they seemed to anticipate this was a difficult task for me. Some knew last week had been my father’s birthday. They offered words of deep support. I can imagine few professions where such support and collegiality is more life-giving.

All that, however, did not prepare me for the flood of memories and legacies which came as I sat in the service and remembered all the connections my family had over the years with the Clipp family—including Al but also his brother Bob, also a pastor.

And as Bob preached at the service and spoke about his brother, I couldn’t help but wish my own words about my brother had come after decades of ministry. Or that he had offered his own words after decades of my ministry.

Today was a raw day.

Some days are.

Some days should be.

Today it was as if the invisible connections that bind us together were so clearly visible before me that they clouded my view. The connections across generations and between people. The connections that break, and the connections that can never be broken.

I was reminded today of the strong witness of the tradition my family comes out of, of the legacy of the Evangelical United Brethren church and the fierce service and humility that marks so many of the people my grandfather served with here.

And the faith.

Oh, the faith.

Today the cloud of witnesses was there. So powerfully.

They sat a bit heavy on me today.

But I feel better when they are so clearly present.

It just also feels a bit raw when they are.

But I think maybe sometimes God comes to me most powerfully in those raw days.

May we all cling to the connections which tie us together and be reminded of the great cloud of witnesses that accompanies us as we journey on this pilgrim way, seeking to faithfully serve along the way.

Rest in peace, Al.

And Dan.

And Granddad.

And Dad.

We’ve got each other.

I promise.

And most importantly, God’s got us.