Dad’s Eulogy
30 March 2008

I have not felt closer to Dad than the last couple months of his life. I don’t find regret in this as much as some sadness in considering the multitude of times when I could have sought this closeness. I am frankly grateful that I was blessed to have had this chance, it was a gift. In the times of silence and the very few words that we exchanged, I had released any inhibitions I may have ever had to be close to him.

I wondered much about what was going through his mind these last couple months. Being hospitalized that first time in January took a toll on him. Whether drug induced or not, he clearly experienced a period of disorientation, then a period of seeming disengagement. It was frankly slightly disconcerting how disconnected he seemed at times. I remember how weak he was in the beginning – little did we know how much weaker he would get. There were also times of startling clarity. He would seem so aware. We would try to speak with each other, but even with hearing aids he was practically deaf so speaking to him was very difficult. I wanted to really communicate with him on a deeper level. I eventually realized that writing my thoughts down for him to read was going to be more effective, and so I did. We all did. Dad would often look around at where he was at, his surroundings, he would examine his bruised hands, the legions on his fingers. I would wonder if he was not sure why they were that way, or that he was becoming aware of how his physical condition was deteriorating. I wondered how he felt on the inside – whether he felt he was diminishing from within, or had he been assuming that he would eventually get better. How does one know if one was going to improve or diminish? I can only presume what he was really feeling, what he was thinking in his last days.

It has been written that the apostle Paul endured tremendous physical hardship in the latter part of his life on earth. Paul was a converted Roman Citizen who after meeting Jesus on the road to Damascus instead of persecuting the early followers of Jesus, was called to be His most ardent missionary. His tireless and passionate pursuit to save in the name of Jesus can’t help but inspire even the “unreligious”, for the zeal in his faith would lead him to places the zealot of today probably couldn’t imagine – all with tremendous love and care for God’s children, his brothers and sisters.
Why is this even relevant? For so many, life is not that different today than in ancient times. We are still brutal, we worship other God’s and violate and kill in “it’s” name, we watch the starving, we hoard our own, we create division and accentuate the differences. Today, we seem to miss the bright spots in our very midst, the one’s that have brought life to the weak, caring to the poor, opportunity and purpose to the down trodden and undeserved – those who have brought people together and not division.

Dad, I believe, was one these people. Perhaps it wasn’t obvious. He cared deeply for his fellow man. He crossed all boundaries of race and religion, geography and economic class. He brought together people from around the world without fanfare. Though the motives that drove him many would not consider noble, the motives were really only a means to something bigger he was doing. No, I don’t even know that he really knew it. But he was driven by some inner conviction of a brighter world.
Like Paul, he was a tireless adventurer, willing and undeterred by obstacles. He silently paved paths that many after him would then exploit. In his stubbornness, he was unmoved in the face of conflict. As a fighter pilot for our country, he learned to be precise, daring, and purposeful. He inspired many in his time - his zeal was infectious for he had a way of inspiring men to believe. He was not about con-forming, he was about re-forming.

Dad was still yet just a man. A man who was as fallible as Paul – as fallible as all of us. He was by far imperfect. He hurt people unsuspectingly. He burdened others. He was often stubborn to a fault. His own pursuits may have been at the expense of others. His actions often didn’t reflect the Jesus he may have learned about when he grew up. He was a “fallen” man – as we all are truly “fallen”. But clearly evident in him were the seeds of goodness which fruits would blossom in others. In him was the goodness that God used to make a difference. His life’s rewards may not have been found in the measures of this world. No, he anguished much in those things he lost, misused, or could not produce. Perhaps if there is any tragedy, it may be in the way he measured his own success – influenced by the dominance of the limited perspective of this world. He may not have seen the legacy of beauty that he left in his wake. His discontentment perhaps came from the seeming lack of “measurable” success, and not fully appreciating the immeasurable success of his life. I trust that he now sees what he brought with him - that success which is timeless and not of this world. The fruits of His success was rooted in humility and a giving heart.

In a letter that the apostle Paul had sent to the church of Ephesus he writes: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love” (Eph 4:2); and in his letter to the church of Philippi: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit”. Paul’s compassion in the midst of his own suffering reflects Christ love. He considered himself a slave to Jesus in which he means that he was willing to give his life to Jesus, and that Jesus was master over his life. While being tortured Paul could only imagine the love Jesus and how to extend Jesus’ love to everyone.

I don’t really know that Dad considered himself a slave to Jesus. I don’t know that even those of us who feel the love of Jesus deeply can espouse such resolve of purpose. I do know that in all of us, despite our glaring imperfections, is the capacity to leave a legacy of humble servitude and loving kindness through the power of the Holy Spirit. In us, God’s children, is the seed that becomes the bountiful fruit that He will use for His glory and purpose. Dad was a man. In him was the special goodness that God used in ways that we will not be able to measure. We all will have our own stories of what Richard “Dick” Lawrence Renne meant to each of us. For me, Dad was imperfect, but in all his imperfection Dad was an inspiration, the very goodness and humility I hope to model and hope he will be proud of. Thank you for your legacy.

If we could hear Dad right now, he is saying “fear not, for He makes all things new again”!