The Gold Embossed Funeral Invitation

The Gold Embossed Funeral Invitation

“Look at this. Ever seen anything like this?”

“What is it?” Kay asks, walking towards me where I stand at the kitchen counter opening the daily mail.

“Well, I don’t know. Never seen anything like it.”

There we pause, staring at the solid black envelope addressed in gold, calligraphic script. Containing a striking ebony funeral invitation the embossed, gold letters read:

“The honor of your presence is requested for the funeral, Saturday, February 4, 2017, 10:00 a.m. U. S. Knoxville National Cemetery, Knoxville, Tennessee.”

“Who is it from?” Kay asks. “Well, I don’t know. Doesn’t say.”

“That’s strange.”

“Sure is.”

“Who died?”

“Don’t now. Doesn’t say that either.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“Beats me.”

“Well, someone must want you there.”

“Yeah, I reckon, unless it’s a mistake.”

“But it’s got your name on the envelope.”

“Sure does. Strange.”

Saturday morning comes. After a bowl of oatmeal and cup of coffee, I move to the bedroom closet and reach for my dark suit, white shirt, and navy-blue tie. “Where are you going?”

“Reckon I’ll drive over to that funeral in Knoxville.”

“Seriously?”

“Sure. Guess I feel I should. Besides, I admit I’m pretty curious. You stay here and relax. I got this.”

Completing my 40 minute drive from our nearby town to the Knoxville cemetery, I motor slowly around the burial grounds until I see a line of parked cars near a tented fresh grave site. Parking at the end of the line, I exit my automobile and amble to the edge of the gathering.

Coats are the fashion of the morning. I’m glad I listened to Kay and brought mine, I think, as the early morning, February air chills us. I recognize no one.

The ritual begins. The minister in the black suit reads from the Bible, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” Then he tears the page out of the Good Book, drops it into the fresh grave, and remarks somberly, “We do not live by these words anymore. Let us give them a decent burial.”

The Reverend next reads from the Sermon on the Mount, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” Gently separating the page from the Holy Book, releasing it to float to the bottom of the pit, he intones, “We pay our respects to the Golden Rule, which no longer lives in our midst.”

Visiting other noble verses from the Bible, the mysterious Man-o’-the-Cloth slowly dislodges each page sending one after another to its’ grave.

“Love your enemies.”

“Pray for those who persecute you.”

“Be Kind to one another.”

“Make love your aim.”

“Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with your God.”

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust,” announces the Reverend. “These words, now deceased, return to their Author.”

“Let us pray,” he whispers, saying, “O Lord, forgive us this day our daily dead. For we have crucified your Words as we crucified you. Amen.”

Quietly, slowly I turn, walk subdued to my car, and wander home. Silently.

J. Randall O’Brien

Dr. J. Randall O’Brien is the recently retired President of Carson-Newman University in Jefferson City, Tennessee. Previously the executive vice president, provost, professor of religion and visiting law professor at Baylor University, the McComb, Mississippi native is a graduate of Yale Divinity School, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, and Mississippi College. He has also held appointments as a Research Scholar at Yale, and Fellow at Oxford.

 Other Porchscene articles by Dr. O’Brien include:

http://porchscene.com/2017/10/17/a-bronze-star-for-brenda/
http://porchscene.com/2017/09/26/dark-rains-gonna-fall/ http://porchscene.com/2017/08/22/3rd-civil-war/ 

Images: Deborah Fagan Carpenter