A Name In The Guestbook

 

"I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn't, than live my life as if there isn't and die to find out there is." - Albert Camus

I went to a funeral recently where God was simply not part of the equation. I mean...at all. No minister, no pastor, no priest. Nothing. The deceased was a good person, about my age, a gentle soul who was kind as could be but who wrestled for many years with the twin demons of alcoholism and drug abuse. Those demons took his life and, when it was over, nobody ushered God into the picture. 

The eulogy was given first by the man's father, then by his twenty year old son. Bookends to a life. But no scripture was read, no spiritual viewpoint advanced, not even a mere mention of heaven.  Don't get me wrong, I am not criticizing anyone here. I respect the rights of all faiths, even the right to have no faith. This funeral was still about people who loved someone, going through the grieving process, saying goodbye in their own way. There were tears followed by the usual arithmetic of loss. 

I stood off to the side next to a business friend who is a huge believer. He prayed quietly the entire time. I did not. I hate to sound naive but I was just too stunned. The whole thing just did not compute. To live life, to face death, without God? That's one thing. But to say the final goodbye without Him being acknowledged, without an afterlife being hoped for?

As we left the funeral I went to sign the guestbook. Do you know what I saw? Dozens of people who had been in line ahead of me who had written their names, addresses and the word "God" in their comments; "May God Bless You", "May God Be With You", "May God Comfort You". Proving once again that God is always there, even when we don't realize it.

That young man will miss his father dearly in the coming weeks and months. When he does he may open that guestbook and see that one word, over and over. Maybe then his pain will start to ease and he will begin to find his way. I know another man who did, years ago, when his father died way too soon.

Me.