To live honourably
The images of recent events linger in my mind. First, there were the hundreds of thousands of people who filed past the bier of Pope John Paul II as their way of honouring the man they saw as a truly great leader.
Then, there were heavy-hearted scenes of crowds gathered to honour and receive home from Nias, Indonesia, the nine military personnel killed in the Sea King helicopter on an aid mission.
And, on Anzac Day, came images of people taking the opportunity to honour those who served in wartime, too many of whom made the ultimate sacrifice.
It all got me thinking again about how I will be thought of when I’m gone.
And what about you? Will we be honoured? Isn’t it only the great and good who are afforded honour? And what is it to be “great” and “good”?
Back in 1990, a teenager wrote something significant about this to Ann Landers of the Chicago Tribune.
Ann Landers: A great man died today. He wasn’t a world leader or a famous doctor or a war hero or a sports figure. He was no business tycoon, and you would never see his name in the financial pages.
But he was one of the greatest men who ever lived. He was my father. I guess you might say he was a person who was never interested in getting credit or receiving honours.
He did corny things like pay his bills on time, go to church on Sunday, and serve as an officer in the PTA. He helped his kids with their homework and drove his wife to do the grocery shopping on Thursday nights. He got a great kick out of hauling his teenagers and their friends around to and from football games.
Dad enjoyed simple pastimes like picnics in the park and pitching horseshoes. Opera wasn’t exactly his cup of tea. He liked country music, mowing the grass and running with the dog. He didn’t own a tuxedo, and I’m sure he never tasted caviar.
Tonight is my first night without him. I don’t know what to do with myself, so I am writing to you, Ann.
I am sorry now for the times I didn’t show him the proper respect. But I am grateful for a lot of other things. I am thankful that God let me have my father for 15 years. And I am happy that I was able to let him know how much I loved him.
That wonderful man died with a smile on his face and fulfilment in his heart. He knew that he was a great success as a husband and a father, a brother, a son and a friend. I wonder how many millionaires can say that.
There are essentially two ways to live life – either seeking honours, or living honourably.
This first way imprisons people in wanting to be god-like. They are bound up in seeking perfection or praise; in getting for self; in manipulating things “my” way; in being served. The ripple effect is tension-riddled interaction with others, power games, and being “put up with”.
Living honourably is to be truly like God. It is God’s gift (cf John 10:10). It is freedom for people.
Facing the same realities and imperfections as does everyone else, they are able to forget themselves; to give of themselves; to appreciate others; to work honestly and eagerly with others; to serve others joyfully from all that is good and right and true. The ripple effects were described by the teenaged letter-writer.
Who would waste their time worrying about honours when the great need today is for good and honourable living?
