Canon Jones funeral today; an oddly uplfting affair. When one lives to a ripe old age, when one goes quickly, when one has done so much good work and touched so many lives - it is hard to be sad at a funeral. The tears that came to my eyes were of joy and of thanks for having crossed paths with the man, and of some sadness for all mortality - but not for Canon Clinton Jones.
It was a large crowd at Christ Church Cathedral, on a dreadful day - rainy and blustery. At the end, when the clergy from all faiths convened in the aisles for the closing prayer, the aisle was full. He was truly respected, admired, and loved. It was a beautiful, and strong, and loving service.
I was a wee bit disappointed in the tribe - of the 100's (400? 500? more?) persons who have passed through GICNE, perhaps 10 of us were evident. More evidence that simply getting through the process, surviving it all, does not guarantee you the sort of stable and happy life where one can pull it together long enough to honor a man who has done so much to help. Were we not there from fear? from wanting to put it all behind us? or were our lives simply so inwardly focused, or too difficult, or perhaps painful that coming to the funeral was not possible? I'm crossing into dangerous blog territory here, and I will let it go at that.
And one last thought, irreverent. But there are some very cute women priests in the Episcopal ranks.