Bizarro

Have I mentioned my before, my belief that some people are stranger than strange?
I attended a funeral this evening and much of it was shocking. One of the dead man's sons launched into what seemed to be an esoteric political satire-esque type of tribute to his father. Among his statements, in which he proudly called his deceased father a heretic, he recounted that his father had died alone, a victim of some sort of ---I don't even know what the word was that he used. Some kind of political system or something. He ended with a shouted sentence that only the very erudite understood. One man sitting in my row with two doctoral degrees, guffawed. I had no idea what he was talking about, and I'm no dunce. It was such a shocking display that I looked at the floor, concerned for what else this son might yell out if provoked.

Another son who seemed opposite tempered from his younger shouter, seemed stilted and rather religious. He gave a tribute to his father that went on and on, complete with obscure stories of his father's childhood. They were so obscure that few people laughed, although the son thought they were quite funny. He seemed to have little personal to say about his father, calling him by his given name, not "Dad." Until the very end of his 10 minute speech.

A third son spoke warmly and the most sensibly about his father, calling him "Dad," and saying how much he loved and missed him. He was the most sane presenter the whole evening.

Perhaps the signature atrocity was the homily. It was given by a man who is extremely intelligent (read, high IQ) but not terribly attuned to people (read, low emotional intelligence--EQ). He started out by making three "confessions," as he called them:
1. If this man died alone, it was not the fault of hospice. People should just call these folks earlier and get them involved with their loved one earlier on. Everyone got tense when he said that.
2. He then discussed the ethical issues when an individual no longer "knows they're alive and they don't want food or water." He gave the assurance that it was fine to withdraw food and water at that point in order to allow them a "good death." That seemed a bit insensitive, given that no one knew what had really happened at the end of this dear man's confused life (he had severe senile dementia). But given that this man had already rebutted one son's perspective about hospice care, what was one more surprising comment?
3. He then said, "Sitting on my right and your left is Dr. Barbara Couden Hernandez" (I almost fell through the floor. What on earth?) "Her research is very important on this topic of people who have to watch others slowly die and their experience of ambiguous loss. You will want to follow her writings and research--very important." I could hardly breathe, I was so stunned at how inappropriate this comment was at such an occasion.
Then off he went into a tangled web of a homily. At one point he said, "I don't know if [the deceased] has any money and who will get it." I could hear someone in the family behind me gasp softly. He continued, "I don't know who will get [the dead man's] books. Save the ones with his personal notes in the margins and give the rest to Goodwill." Now why would someone weigh in so boldly on such a private matter?
This man was so far out in left field as he meandered through the field of grief, kicking every sacred cow within reach. At the end, he did segue into the final congregational hymn, but as I looked around behind me, everyone looked pretty disconcerted.

What ever happened to good, old-fashioned, halting but heartfelt comments about how much the dead person is loved and will be missed? Why not refer to scriptural passages that provide comfort in the face of grief and loss? We got served up a confusing tangle of platitudes and esoteric musings. Lord, preserve me from having anyone like that rattle on when I am the one in The Box!