Unauthorized Eulogy

Why art thou cast down, o my soul.
And why art thou disquieted in me?
Hope thou in God, for I shall yet praise Him,
who is the health of my countenance and my God.
– Psalm 42:11

 

[Note: Biographies come in two types –- authorized and unauthorized. Authorized biographies are those where a writer has been commissioned to write about a person. They’ve been given entrée to all of the information they need and they are expected to produce a work of fact –- not fiction –- that aptly represents the subject. Then there are unauthorized biographies. Those are biographies written by people who have not been commissioned and who have not been given authority by anybody else to write it, but they know enough and have gathered enough information on their own that they feel they can speak responsibly and present an apt, accurate portrayal of the subject. They, too, are intended as works of fact and not some fictitious portrayal we'd prefer to believe. Well, for our time together this morning, I will present to you the unauthorized eulogy. Nobody asked me to do it, but I believe I know enough to speak responsibly and accurately on L. Charles Bennett today.]

 

When Howard Thurman delivered the eulogy for Whitney Young, he opened with these words: “Whitney Young is dead. This is his fact and our reality.” It is said that a wave of instant awareness tore through the mourners, who still had not fully come to grips with the fact that Whitney was dead. Howard Thurman uttered words that everybody knew were true, and yet that they had in one way or another refused to fully accept or embrace in their minds and hearts. And yet, at the same time, when the truth of those words cut through the denials, a surge of relief was released to those who grieved.

 

The potency of the mixture of emotions at a time like this is 80 or 100 proof.

 

So let me say it for those of you who may still be in disbelief today: Well church, L. Charles Bennett is dead. This is his fact and our reality.” Last week I stood here in this same spot and announced that he was in the hospital, doing better, out of critical condition, and today we are mourning the fact that he is dead. He was too young, too gifted, too filled with potential and had too much yet to achieve, and yet today he’s dead.

 

I don’t know what it has been like for you, but for me, this has been a week of deep-sea-level reminiscing and a week of gathering memories and reclaiming and reframing them for eternity’s sake.  Death does much of the sifting and sorting for us and makes the sting less painful. It has been a week of putting together pieces that have long been strewn about hither and yon, disjointed and confused. And to a great degree, the result has been a surprising assortment of stories, and tales, and anecdotes that each in and of themselves mean very different things. Some of what’s been drawn out has been so wonderful to remember, and some of what’s been unearthed I wish could have stayed buried.
 

(Let’s put aside our churchy selves for a moment. Don’t act like you’ve never had a loved one whose death did not raise for you, let’s just say, “a plethora of emotions.” I know that’s true in my family, and I know it’s true in yours, too. If we could just not be churchy for a moment, and just be our authentic selves, with no masks or cover-ups, I think it will help us see God more clearly. All of us have some folks we love dearly, but when we look back over their lives, we wish they had done things a bit differently, handled their business a bit better, tied up their loose ends, brought closure to some things before they started new things, and operated in another style or manner that pleased us. When we come across these people, if we are honest, we’d have to admit that we have some fond recounts of their lives, AND we also have some stuff we’d rather not have to include, but the truth of the matter is it’s all theirs and it all must be included in the biographical package.)
 

…

Well, the Psalmist in this text is going through his own struggle with a complexity of emotions, with disappointment and in the middle of it all, he raises the “why” question. We don’t ask that out loud, because of our own unwillingness to question God. But whether we speak it from our lips or harbor it in our hearts, it’s a question that asserts its own loud voice in the silence of the despairing moment. And in case you’ve never been given permission to question God, let me offer that to you today. Go ahead and question. Ask why. Ask how long. Ask how come. God can handle it. But as you question, just be prepared for God’s classic answer:

 

To your why, God answers: “Because I said so, that’s why.”

 

To your how long: “As long as it takes.”

 

To your how come: “Because I, the Lord, your God, am Sovereign.”

…

 

But for our purposes today, I want to move beyond the why question and just look at the wrestling of emotions found in this one verse. In reading these words, we can see that the Psalmist understands something of our confusion and pain and tears. For over 400 years, his people had lived in the bitterness of grief and slavery. They felt the constant sting of hot tears on cold cheeks. They knew frustration, disappointment, and waiting –- a complex mix of emotions. And so on the front end, the Psalmist prays this prayer of lament about his soul being cast down and disquieted. But on the back end, he offers hope and praise, depicting his highest possibility.

 

And for the sake of our time together I just want to look at the progressive yet complex movement from despair to testimony. It’s not easy moving from pain to promise.

 

One of the reasons it can be so hard is that all of us, whose lives still dangle between this present world and the next, are a bundle of mixed pieces -– a mixture of shades and textures, highs and lows, successes and failures, losses and recoveries that work together to make us who we are. Study any one piece of us too closely and you may discover huge flaws and major frailties and unfortunate mistakes that will blindside you to the whole of who we are and to what you saw when you maintained a safe distance. ...

 

One of God’s most perfect creatures by my rating is Denzel Washington. Denzel’s so swell to me. From where I am, I can see no flaws, no imperfections, nothing wrong with Denzel. But if I were to ask Pauletta, his wife, about his flaws, I’m sure she’d be able to name some. Because the closer we get to one another, the more we’re able to see the weak spots and the wrinkles and cracks and broken places and wounds. But, as much as we'd like to, we can't edit them out, because it's those things that serve to give texture and definition to the other parts.

 

Let me explain it like this…

 

If you’ve ever been down to the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception Church, just a few miles from here, over on Michigan Avenue, NE, Washington, DC, there’s an enormous mosaic of Jesus Christ on the walls of what they call the Great Upper Church in the North Apse. In fact, it’s one of the largest portrayals of Christ in the world -- a huge iconic mosaic called “Christ in Majesty.” The National Shrine is the largest Roman Catholic church in the Western hemisphere, and so it is only fitting it would house this enormous montage created by artist John de Rosen. It took him two-and-a-half years from start to finish, using small Venetian glass tiles to construct this more than 3,400 foot icon of Jesus Christ. More than three million pieces of cut glass, painstakingly placed until it shaped into the image of Christ. It is a massive sight. But you know what’s most interesting about that? Despite the fact that it took little pieces to create it, that’s not where you want to place your focus. What's most fascinating to me is that to appreciate the beauty and meaning of it all, you must take in the whole thing. If you ever get sidetracked focusing in on one lone  triangular shape or a single tiny rectangular cut, you’d miss out on seeing the whole thing. Nobody in their right minds would venture to see that great piece of work and merely focus on a single piece of tile. If you are going to see it in all its fullness, you’d have to stand back so you can see it the way the artist fashioned it, so you could see the whole thing.

 

That’s how we need to be with each other. Don’t ever take one incident and define the whole of my life by it –- neither the good nor the bad, but take the whole of me –- both the good and the bad -– and then you can come up with the full picture. I wish I could always be the way I am when I am at my best: kind, patient, compassionate, loving, in good physical condition, with a prayer on my heart and a good sermon on my lips. But that’s only a part of who I am. The truth is there are times when none of those things are words that would describe me. To get the full picture of me, you’re going to have to be willing to accept that sometimes, I am something else. So don’t judge me by the single incidents, but look at there are many strata, or layers, and if you have to judge me, judge me by the long directional bend of my life and then determine what will be the lasting impression I leave behind.

…

 

Howard Thurman, that great mystic minister, preacher, poet and writer said it this way:
 

 

You can’t just take one piece and discard all the others, if you’re going to appreciate the full mosaic with all of its textures and tones and colors, you’ve got to allow room for all of the pieces in all of their multifaceted distinctiveness to show because that’s what defines and completes the picture of the mosaic.

 

So today we join with the Psalmist in saying: though my soul might be cast down and disquieted, but that’s not all, that’s situation – what’s true in it all and through it all is that I’ve got hope in my heart and praise on my lips over the full picture.

 

Likewise, my beloved brothers and sisters, there’s something profound in the very construction of this de Rosen’s mosaic, because if you’re trying to take in a real glimpse of Christ, you don’t take single out a piece of Him. You look at all of Him. Take all the information and background that we have on him and make a decision for yourself. You don’t take just a piece of Christ, one story, one healing, one word, and think that’s all there is to Him. You want to give yourself a total image of who he is.

 

Let me explain… 

 

·       You don’t listen to one 30-second sound bite of a Rev. Dr. Jeremiah Wright sermon and think you’ve exhausted the wealth of his sermon treasure and the full breadth of his ministry.

 

·       Nor do you read a page of Zora Neale Hurston and think you know all there is about her book.

 

·       Or hear one word of a rapper’s testimony and claim you know all they’re trying to say.

 

·       Or go to the center of the vast Pacific Ocean and focus on one drop of water believing that it contained all of the knowledge the ocean.

 

·       Or pick up one grain of sand and claim to understand the desert or the beach. No, to fully appreciate it, you would step back and take all of it in at one time.

 

Likewise, if we’re going to take a glimpse of God, of Christ, we’ve got to try to see all of Him through in His fullness, considering all that we know about Him. You can’t just take part of God and get the whole picture. If you did, which part would you take:

 

·       There’s Adam’s God who walked along side him and talked with him, but this same God questioned him and took away his privileges when he lied and was disobedient. Which one would you take?

 

·       There’s Moses God who called him to stretch beyond his own abilities and who met him in a burning bush, but there’s also the angry God who got fed up with our foolishness and who Moses had to convince not to destroy the people. Which one would you take.

 

·       There’s Esther’s God who is silently at work behind the scenes but whose name never even makes the credits of her book. Is this an acceptable God to you?

 

·       There’s the God of the psalm writers, who ranges from absent to visible, from powerful to impotent, from abundance to lacking, but who always was worthy of praise. Which of these God you gonna take?

 

·       There’s the God of the gospels, who is as multifaceted and unpredictable as the next day. He ate with publicans and sinners, welcomed children and women, healed on the days He wasn’t supposed to, slept while his crew was in a storm, walked on water and fed the hungry multitudes. Which of these God you gonna take?

 

·       And there’s the God of the epistles, who lets Paul go through horrible, hurtful ordeals on His behalf: beatings, floggings, jailings, shipwrecks, ridicule, mob attacks and more, and yet this same God often does not show up until after Paul has gone through the worst of it.

 

So which God are you going to accept? Because to choose just one over the other is leave all the other parts of Him behind. If you’re going to get the full portrait of God at work in your life, then you’re going to have to take the parts you’re comfortable with AND the parts that make you ask WHY. And don’t get too hung up spending too much time on the parts you don’t understand. Our ancestors worked that out in their minds a long time ago. Let me share their secret with you for handling the parts of life they did not understand. They just said:

 

“We’ll understand it better by and by.”

 

 

There are some things about the life of Charles Bennett that I don’t understand, but I do know I’ll understand it better by and by. And just because I don’t understand it does not mean I can dismiss it, because it’s a part of who he was. You don’t dismiss the why’s, those are just the less clear colors of the mosaic that blend in and make the rest of it hold together.
 

Because in truth, God does not dismiss the stuff about us that would make him say why? Don’t think God doesn’t question where we are sometimes, too. I know He’s omniscient, but we can be a mess sometimes. I can imagine God with some major questions about us.

 

·       Why don’t they trust me, when I told them that nothing can separate them from my love?

·       Why do they do the things they do, when I’ve told them not to do that?

·       Why do they seek to find love in all the wrong places, when my love has been here for them all the time?

·       Why do they take so long in coming to me when I’ve shown them the way time and time again? When I show them new mercies every day… when I keep the blood running warm in their veins, when I keep giving them the activity of their limbs, when I keep them clothed in their right minds…

 

The list goes on and on, but let me tell you this. Take comfort my beloved in knowing that God is not stuck in the why's either. He spends a whole lot more time hearing the intercessions of His Son Jesus who prays on our behalf: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” And I’m glad about that.
 

Let me close when I tell you this. Many of you have heard this story before but it’s worth retelling.
 

Some years ago, soon after Charles and I were married, he was invited to preach at a church banquet of woman who was retiring from the government after several decades of service. It was quite an affair and lots of people floating around the decorated church basement. When we arrived, they whisked him away and led him somewhere. And I was left standing at the door with no instructions whatsoever. So I sat down at the nearest seat at one of the table rounds to be out of the way of the flow. Some time later, somebody came and got me and said, “Oh no, you don’t sit here, you sit up here,” and she motioned to a seat on the rostrum. I took my seat next to a gentleman I knew and we made small-talk awhile. But about 10 minutes later, I heard the booming voice of Charles Bennett saying: “Where’s my wife. Naw, naw, naw.” I hadn’t noticed, but there was another rostrum – an upper and lower deck, so to speak – and some malicious, mean, not well intended churchy person, who I guess did not think I was worthy of upper deck status, had seated him on the upper deck and me on the lower deck. Well, before I could turn around to see what all the commotion was about, I looked up and Charles had made his way down from the upper rostrum to the lower rostrum to and sat in the empty seat next to me. He had decided that if I could not be with him up there, he did the next best thing and came down to where I was.

 

Well, my brothers and sisters, I say that not to just raise up a fond memory, we’re not even married anymore. And I don’t say it to indicate I have any unresolved issues. But I raise it to say that Charles Bennett had many parts, and if you’re going to appreciate the full picture, you’ve got to take in all the parts. He could be arrogant and pigheaded. He often let his anger get the best of him. He was impatient and self-centered and hasty. He was all of that, but that wasn’t all he was. Because if ever there was an example of Christ, that was it on the night of that banquet. When we can’t get to Him, He’ll come and get us. When we’re too much of a mess to reach out to Him, He reaches out to us. When the world considers us unworthy to be one in the number, He elects to make us one of His own.

 

…

 

On Tuesday, April 1, at Doctors Hospital just around the corner from here, the Lord came and got Charles Bennett. He was ill. His body had been through enough. His heart had taken all it could. Perhaps he lay there with downcast soul and heavy heart over all his illness, but that was not the whole picture. There was hope… and there was praise. (I know somebody’s saying “How do you know that, preacher?” Because you can’t preach this gospel for all those years the way he preached it without holding fast to those things.) Hope and praise... that there’s more to us than our physical condition. Hope and praise... that my countenance is in God and not in my body. Hope and praise... that there was yet the assuredness of the promise in 2 Corinthians that… if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands. Hope and praise... that we’ve got a place on reserve waiting for us. Hope that He hears us when we pray. Hope that nothing can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus. So let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again, and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also.

 

The mosaic is complete. All the colors are filled in and though some questions may still remain, we’ll understand it better by and by.