“Speaker for the Dead”

This weekend, I had the opportunity to experience what an excellently crafted funeral homily can be. I’ve been to many funerals, but this was a first! An honest and truthful examination of a life that acknowledged the painful failings for those who needed closure, without bludgeoning those who do not acknowledge the faults and yet is presented in a way that made the whole conflict invisible to those who were oblivious to the issues. I offer great praise to a master wordsmith and a caring minister. Thank you!

I came away from the experience with a deeper insight into the complexity of the person and a hint at what may have contributed to his less understandable behavior than I ever would have imagined possible from an 8 minute sermon.

In my experience, homilies tend to fall into a few basic categories:

1. The Shallow Praise Fest- only the good parts of the person are acknowledged. Dishonest and Hard on those with unresolved issues.

2. The Bash the Dead Party- only the persons failings are acknowledged. Dishonest and Hard on those who experienced only the best the person had to give.

3. The Snooze-o-Rama- a scholarly exploration of the biblical texts that strip the person of all Humanity by barely acknowledging that the (homily writer) had any understanding or awareness of the dead person when they still lived. Boring and devoid of all personal content- AKA “McSermon”! “Would you like to make that a combo? Would you like that Super-Sized?”

And worst of all…

4. “The Alter Call”- Where the minister demonstrates a total lack of understanding of humanity and the grieving process by offering to “convert anyone or everyone at the service who is willing to come up front here and publicly accept Jesus as their personal savior. Praise God! Amen!”

I’ve been to way too many 1s and 3s, a couple of very uncomfortable 2s, and a surprisingly large number of 4s!

Today was a rare gift! Thank You Again!

“On the Borderline”

Her silver tongue weaves,
filling the air with golden gossamers, clouding the mind
with mists of glittering unreason.

Her glowing glossolalia explains the inexplicable, defends the indefensible, and justifies the vast injustice.

Before her words, the miasma
of fecund decay shifts,
begins to resemble the aroma
of lavender and roses.

Venom like, the smooth caress of silky snake oil conceals the cut of serrated steel.

Hope and reason succumb
to resignation and despair.
Luminous joy drowns struggling
in a sea of gilded sludge.

As the thick dark shroud envelops all she pauses, an instant, to draw breath, and in that moment her spell shatters!

Plug your ears, Ulysses!
You will have no second chance.

Those San Antonio Moons

Ahhh! The conventioneers lament!


When multiple moons

glowed through our hotel window,

I knew we had to

 cut back on Texas moonshine.

Soon I was relieved

to find those many moons weren’t

Texas excess. They

were simply shining orbs from

a nearby parking garage.



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Who aspires to be the man:

Who aspires to be the man 

Who preaches a lifetime of stewardship 

at the top of his lungs yet 

leaves behind a hollow legacy? 

 Who offers his love a lifetime of heart felt care 

yet delivers only hollow promises? 

Who professes eternal love with silken tongue 

yet provides only a void 

from the bottom of his hollow heart?

Welcome?  Perhaps.

It is possible I will choose to share this forum.

Please know at the start that the purpose of this blog if for the exploration of those aspects of life that are particularly disquieting, disturbing, and discordant.  Maybe even a vent for dysthymia, disgust, and even discontent.

If I share it and it finds resonance with you, then dis is your place.  If reading this brings unwanted dissonance, then please disburse!

Caveat Lector,