Thu, 28 Oct 2004

The Funeral for Jason Cope

Yesterday, Jason was formally committed to the Halls of the Gods - in a big way. My wife and I were honored to have been invited by the family to share in the private memorial service which occurred before the main visitation. I will confess to being a bit puzzled, initially, as to why the service was by invitation only, but soon found out.

The private service had perhaps 250 attendees. If they [the family] had decided on a public service, they would've had to have rented Wrigley Field to hold the crowds. The line(s) for the main viewing streched around the block - more than once, and despite a steady drizzle of cold rain. I would guesstimate that at least three thousands passed his coffin and paid their respects yesterday. The mortuary had to set up snaking lines, like the ones seen at state funerals and such, to handle the overflow.

The local paper had, besides the standard obit, a half page, four column article on Jason's life. Unfortunately, I can't find it online, but will type/scan it as soon as possible. Update:done.

To give you a better idea of his immense reach, after the services, our kindred stopped at a Friday's restaurant in Merrillville for a dinner together before heading to our homes. The hostess, a young girl of perhaps 20, spotted us together, all in formal attire, and asked what the occassion was - we replied that we had attended a funeral. At which point she said "I don't mean to be rude or intrusive, but whose funeral was it?" When we told her she began weeping - my wife held her for a few minutes - Jason had been her senior English teacher when she was in high school. She claimed not to understand what had made her ask: she had a "funny feeling".

Our kinsman Chuck flew in from Seattle Monday evening (he returned this morning at 4 am ... talk about a red-eye!). There were license plates from all over the Midwest, and other folks who flew in from nearly all over the country. And I would wager that most, if not all, of Jason's students, over his entire 14 year tenure at Portage High School, who had heard of the tragedy were there.

And the Thor's Hammers! At least one in three was wearing the Hammer of the Gods - including Jason's entire family! I have never seen such a number and variety of the token of Thor outside of a formal Asatru moot - and that's just a "maybe". We're talking hundreds of Hammers.

Alice, the widow, is Catholic, although she was very supportive of her husband's choice of religious faith. And although there was a Catholic priest who spoke (as well as our godhi) at the private service, the Christianity was very muted. His sisters committed him to Har's Hall, and hoped that Odin and Thor realized what a gift they'd received. His father Hammersigned the coffin before the service.

These folks aren't "heathen", in the sense of belonging to a kindred and identifying themselves as Asatru. None could recite the Nine Noble Virtues by heart - they probably couldn't name any of the gods and goddesses outside of Odin, Thor and Frey or Freyja. But they knew, instinctively if not explicitly, that Jason was on the road to Asgard, and they honored the memory of their departed kinsman and friend in the best way they knew how - wearing the Hammer of Thor.

Their lives had been touched, and they knew it and acknowledged it. And they knew the driving force behind the person: even though Jason was not an "Edda thumper", and often complained of being unable to reach people (!), ultimately his honor, and his deeds touched their lives in ways he could never have imagined.

These folks, nominal Christians though they may remain, will remember Jason, and remember his troth, and remember his effect on them. They will keep their Hammers, sometimes about their necks, sometimes in a jewelry box or a closet. But they will keep them. And they will remember.

Heathens are sometimes self-critical for not being open enough, or up front enough. We berate ourselves for not advertising, much less proselytizing. Jason's life should teach us all that the best way to bring others home to the faith of their fathers is by our deeds - our lives do effect others, and often in ways we cannot even see. If we live with honor, courage, truth and loyalty others will see, and they will know the source of our strength and conviction.

Christianity did not sweep the North in a day - or a week or a month or a year. It took decades, sometimes even centuries before the new ways had supplanted the ancient traditions of our folk. Why should we expect the reverse to happen overnight? Why do we forget that it is our lives that matter: not our marketing campaigns, our literature and our "outreach" efforts? Those are important, to be sure, but when you get right down to it, if every heathen fulfills their duty to the gods and lives by the values we cherish, the rest will take care of itself.

Funeral homes in America always print up little cards for the deceased, listing their birth and death dates and some appropiate religious text. Alice chose for her husbands card the text of the Norse funeral prayer recorded by the Arab historian Ibn Fadlan in the ninth century. The private service concluded with this prayer, led by Alice, recited by the attendees en masse:

Lo' there do I see my fathers.
Lo' there do I see my mothers,
Lo' there do I see my brothers and my sisters.
Lo' there do I see the line of my people
    back to the beginning.
Lo' they call to me.
They bid me to take my place among them,
    in the Halls of Valhalla,
where the brave may live forever.

/Asatru | 3 writebacks | permanent link

On
Chas S. Clifton wrote

On
Christina Haack wrote

Legacy of Jason Cope

On
Stefn Ullarsson Piparskeggr wrote

Life Affirmati0on

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