Your Memorial Table
For many years I have been “on call” for Forest Lawn Mortuary. If someone needs a minister to officiate at a funeral, but doesn’t have one, Forest lawn selects one from their approved list. In the last ten years, as a result being on their list, I have conducted nearly 200 funerals for them. It is been a great opportunity to share the gospel with people who usually never darken the door of the church.
Recently, I was assigned to the conduct a funeral in a small chapel at Forest Lawn. As I walked into the chapel I was immediately struck by the fact that there was no casket present. That was not necessarily unusual. I have conducted services where there was an erne in place of a casket. In this case, however, that was no erne, only a small table. To the right of the table stood a life-sized picture of Elvis Presley.
On the small table, there were a number of objects. At the back was a collage of pictures. In front of the pictures there were: a fresh hamburger and an order of French fries that smelled like they had just come off the grill, a can of beer, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, a package of sunflower seeds and a large pile of keys, all on the same ring.
Shortly, after entering the chapel, I met the widow. I learned that her husband, who was only 55 years old, had died suddenly of a heart attack. She began to describe her husband to me. Looking affectionately at the objects on the table, she said, “That’s him.” She went on to explain that he loved hamburgers; he could eat them three times a day. He liked to eat hamburgers and fries, drink beer and smoke cigarettes while watching the Dodgers and the Angels on TV or listening to Elvis. Everything on the table symbolized who he was.
On the way home, I couldn’t help but think about that table. If there is a table instead of a casket at my funeral, what would the people, near and dear to me, put on it? What would my Memorial Table look like? I decided what I would put on it if I were choosing the contents of the table, but I wondered what others might do.
Later, when I told Patricia, my wife, about what happened, I ask her what she thought my Memorial Table would looked like. I was pleased to hear her say that she would put a Bible on the table and I was surprised to hear her say that she would put a highlighter on the table. After a moment’s reflection I understood why. I am constantly reading and have often said that I can’t read without a highlighter. Putting a highlighter on my Memorial Table would be appropriate. She listed some other objects, such as my PDA, etc. I am sure that others would put a different set of the items on my table, some of which might not be as complementary as the ones Patricia chose.
What would you put on your Memorial Table? What do you think others might put on your Memorial Table? What objects symbolize who you really are?
© G. Michael Cocoris, 2/28/2003
Recently, I was assigned to the conduct a funeral in a small chapel at Forest Lawn. As I walked into the chapel I was immediately struck by the fact that there was no casket present. That was not necessarily unusual. I have conducted services where there was an erne in place of a casket. In this case, however, that was no erne, only a small table. To the right of the table stood a life-sized picture of Elvis Presley.
On the small table, there were a number of objects. At the back was a collage of pictures. In front of the pictures there were: a fresh hamburger and an order of French fries that smelled like they had just come off the grill, a can of beer, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, a package of sunflower seeds and a large pile of keys, all on the same ring.
Shortly, after entering the chapel, I met the widow. I learned that her husband, who was only 55 years old, had died suddenly of a heart attack. She began to describe her husband to me. Looking affectionately at the objects on the table, she said, “That’s him.” She went on to explain that he loved hamburgers; he could eat them three times a day. He liked to eat hamburgers and fries, drink beer and smoke cigarettes while watching the Dodgers and the Angels on TV or listening to Elvis. Everything on the table symbolized who he was.
On the way home, I couldn’t help but think about that table. If there is a table instead of a casket at my funeral, what would the people, near and dear to me, put on it? What would my Memorial Table look like? I decided what I would put on it if I were choosing the contents of the table, but I wondered what others might do.
Later, when I told Patricia, my wife, about what happened, I ask her what she thought my Memorial Table would looked like. I was pleased to hear her say that she would put a Bible on the table and I was surprised to hear her say that she would put a highlighter on the table. After a moment’s reflection I understood why. I am constantly reading and have often said that I can’t read without a highlighter. Putting a highlighter on my Memorial Table would be appropriate. She listed some other objects, such as my PDA, etc. I am sure that others would put a different set of the items on my table, some of which might not be as complementary as the ones Patricia chose.
What would you put on your Memorial Table? What do you think others might put on your Memorial Table? What objects symbolize who you really are?
© G. Michael Cocoris, 2/28/2003