To my mind, the decisive test of a memorial service is whether you come away from it feeling that you know the departed person better . In services like the one I most recently attended, when I had never met the deceased, the same test applies except that I was then learning about the person for the first time.

The memorial service referred to here was beautifully planned and shaped. The setting was an old New England church, the string quartet and organ music was classic and skillfully played, the two favorite hymns were sung with gusto, and the comments of family members and friends seemed to resound in the hearts of all present.

What I always love about the sentiments expressed in this setting is the way the person’s faults and foibles are turned into loveable traits. After the person has gone, we learn to appreciate these characteristics in the context of an entire life. Things that seemed less than admirable when the person was alive, now are seen to be points that make that person’s life career more interesting. They also do not block our acceptance of him in openhearted love.

Yes, this can verge on  mere sentimentality, as if character defects and even sins are turned into harmless oddities. But I consider this approach rather like that of God as presented in the great religious traditions of the world, one who is merciful and ready to overlook almost anything in favor of the one thing necessary – love.

In this instance, the man lived 94 years of vibrant human life. He was a mover and shaker in high finance and performed large deeds for the fine arts. His espousal of great institutions for the arts furthered the life of a great city and, in fact, of the nation. As one of his sons said, “he believed in the power of the rational mind,” a credo that enabled him to accomplish much in service to the public.

In private life, he was also unusually creative. His two daughters showed the congregation some of the fine photos he had taken of things in nature. One of them was of sea shells he had recovered from the beach and revealed in all their subtle beauty. Another was of a rabbit who had shown ingenuity in finding ways into his garden in order to eat the carefully tended lettuce. To take this latter photo, the man clearly must have lain prone on the ground eyeballing Peter, the wily predator.

One of the other sons described his father as “an austere authoritative man..” “Schmoozing was not his style,” he added.

But one of the best features of the family commentary was that the adult children dared give appraisals of their father that, to some extent, clashed. One of his daughters said of him, by contrast, “He had a tender soul underneath that imperious exterior.”

She supported her appraisal by reading some of her father’s observations of the world. The latter showed sharp insights and warm sympathy with nature. The daughter said, “He believed in a religious connectedness with all living things.”

Showing the power of his imagination, she quoted him writing, “I tried to think like a duck” as he figured out how that bird would land on nearby water. Of an old tree, terribly gnarled and grown in upon itself, he wrote about it “gaining strength by growing around its problems.”

As the minister said in the final prayer before the tolling of the church bell, “Creator, he loved the world almost as much as You do.”

And as one of his age peers and neighbors said of his death, “He died a peaceful and supremely happy man.”

My point in all of these details is to convey something of the response made by other people to the fullness of a life lived long and ardently. Though not knowing the man myself, I came away from the memorial service buoyed up and inspired by life’s possibilities. My view of the world as beautiful and human life as meaningful was strengthened by this encounter with the spirit of a man who has now left us. The way he lived his life I do not take as a model for myself but I do feel awe at the sweep of his years.

At the reception and lunch afterward, talk continued about the family patriarch. The memorial service had made him present to us and fueled further discussion. Those of us who did not know him now felt as if we had. And we were taking away much material for reflection about what it is to be human and what makes for a good life.

Living long was revealed once again as a precious gift with all of its hazards. It gives you  time and world enough to continue growing and serving beyond where you thought possible.

Richard Griffin