He watched a You-tube video of

the funeral service for a respected

scholar and prolific author take

place in the chapel of one of the

top universities in the country. He

was surprised when he saw the

scholar’s date of birth. He was six

months older than the scholar. As

he continued listening to the video

on Yahoo, he Googled the scholar

on Firefox. My how the man had

aged, he thought flicking though

the photo gallery. He glanced at

himself in the mirror and then

returned to watching the video.

Everything was good and proper

and Reformed for the Reformed

scholar. He listened to the majestic

organ, sang along with the words

of the great hymns, watched

the procession of robed clergy,

heard the message and kept his

eyes open while the Associate

Dean of the chapel prayed the

right liturgical prayer on behalf

of the deceased. When the

congregants opened their eyes,

he shut his for a moment, then

fast forwarded the video hoping

to catch a glimpse of the family

as they recessed. Then he shut

off the video. It was nice he

thought and he was sure their

Reformed God was pleased and

satisfied with all the glorification.

It was a sophisticated, tribal ritual

and proper for all the right, well-

reasoned reasons and he trusted

it brought comfort to the mourners.

It brought back memories of his forty-

three years of learning and practicing

and executing the proper Reformed

liturgy. He got his doctorate in it and

he even did it for his late wife’s memorial

service. But in the viewing and listening

and singing and repeating the words,

he realized something as he sat in his

shorts and tee-shirt contemplating his

next poem – a handful of friends and

loved ones, if he was lucky, the scatter-

ing of ashes in the dunes along the

shore of Lake Michigan, a moment of

silence and a few drinks in a Saugatuck

bar afterward. The thought pleased him

and he thought Jesus might be pleased,

also.