Speaking the Truth in Love

The blowing, cold rain forced all of us to squeeze under the green awning at the cemetery graveside. Those settings are awkward. What can you do except be solemn? Death is no laughing matter.

Family members were seated on the covered folding chairs facing the flower laden casket. I stared down at the green outdoor carpet spread over the dirt and grass surrounding the freshly dug grave. We were there to pay respects to a 48-year-old man — way too young to die from a heart attack.

I had never met him, but his brother is my friend. It was this brother who broke the silence with prayer. Afterward, a family acquaintance sang Under His Wings. Then my friend began the eulogy.

The first bit was usual. There were funny stories the family remembered and retold over the years. Names, places and people blended together to paint a picture of this man’s life. Sometimes we laughed as we remembered along with the family. Sometimes we were quiet. His only child, an adult daughter, pressed close to her husband. They both dabbed tissues to their eyes.

Then the tone changed. My friend paused and said, “I struggled writing this second page.” He looked down at his notes and continued. “I’m going to be honest. My brother wasn’t the kind of son my mom and dad wanted him to be.” He looked at his niece, called her by name and said, “He wasn’t the kind of father you wanted or deserved.” Then came a longer pause. Momentarily, his voice choked with emotion as he said, “He wasn’t the bigger brother I needed to look up to, even though I did look up to him.”

We were all very quiet. From my brief visits with the family, I recognized his words were true. But usually you don’t say those kinds of things at a graveside service. I admire a person who can be honest. The word that comes to mind is transparency: not trying to cover up that which is obvious to everyone; allowing people to see the center of thoughts and emotions; openness that is big enough to admit any wrong doing; accepting the blame for something that has failed. I appreciate such transparency in this day and age of leaders who say what people want to hear and never accept responsibility.

The reflections resumed. “Even though we know my brother was not the person he should have been, we are not the ones to judge him. Only God can do that. Only God knows his heart.” Again my friend was absolutely right. We see the outside while God is able to look beyond the dress and deportment into the heart. Our job is not to judge, but to love and accept people, to encourage them with warm words and small acts of kindness. And even if they won’t accept doesn’t mean you should refuse to give. Everyone is worthy of your transparent friendship.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into Him ... that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:15 NIV)