Bill Clingan Memorial Service

William “Bill” Keith Clingan Jr.

1938-2013

Chattanooga Funeral Home North Chapel

Memorial Service May 10, 2013

Pastor Barry A. Clingan

You can listen to the funeral service by going to the Listen section of my website www.BarryClingan.org
or simply by clicking here

As a Pastor, I have stood in this very funeral home and dozens like it all over the country and ministered to hundreds of families in their time of grief. The first funeral I did in this chapel was 27 years ago for William Keith “Jack” Clingan Sr. or as we knew him “Pa,” my Dad’s father. Today I do not stand as a Pastor first, but simply as a son who deeply grieves the loss of his Dad and desires to honor him with his words. I don’t come with any particularly eloquent or inspirational words, I just want to thankfully stand and eulogize a great father.

It is so difficult to choose what to say. There are hundreds of stories and dozens of things I would like to say to honor my Father. If I can only say two things I would want everyone to know about my Dad it would be these:

First, My Dad was Fun. Some people think it is a sin to have fun, not my Dad. Life was an adventure with my Dad. I remember many Fridays he would call home and tell us kids to get the tent out and when he got home we would go camping. We did not have a plan or a place or any money. We would just find a spot and have fun. One time we went to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina on a whim in his 1966 Mustang. There were three of us boys at the time and we drove the entire way in the back seat. It only has two seats and a hump. Kevin was the smallest so he had to sit on the hump. No IPads, IPhones, DVD players, or Gameboys just maybe a comic book and my dad to entertain us. And trust me there was no foolishness in the back seat. My Dad never met Dr. Spock and “time-out” was a foreign concept to him.

Second, My Dad was Smart. My Dad was incredibly intelligent. Now I know that every boy thinks his dad is the smartest man in the world but the only difference for me is that it was true. I found a book that he put together in the eighth grade for a school project. His first choice of a vocation was to be an engineer. That is what he became.

If you asked my Dad what time it was, be prepared to be told how the watch was made. And he knew because he had taken it apart. From his earliest days at 1809 Anderson Avenue when he took apart his first engine all the way to when he took apart his first computer Dad was a lifelong learner. He never stopped learning.

Once when we were kids he loaded us all up for an impromptu family vacation to a State Park in North Alabama, a place we had simply chosen at random on a map. We trailered our first boat a single bench seat Cherokee Boat with a 45hp Evinrude outboard engine on this trip. We loaded all of our stuff in the back of the boat. We had a tent, motorcycles and camping gear. It was so loaded that on the way back near Huntsville, Alabama the single axle on the trailer bent. In the tradition of his father who was a tool and die maker and never bought a tool in his life but always made whatever he needed. My smart dad sent us boys in the woods to cut down a pine tree. We stripped the pine tree of the branches and inserted it on top of the axle and secured it with black tape and we drove back to Hixson. When we got home we took it apart and put the old pine log in the garage (Dad always had a real problem with throwing anything away). He taught us ingenuity and demonstrated his intelligence all of the time.

In the face of death in recent months he lamented the fact that he would take all of his knowledge with him to the grave. He wished he could pass it on. It was a joy to tell him that the modern caricature of heaven as a place on clouds with wings and halos was a fable. The real heaven according to the Bible is a place where we will among other things continue to grow and expand in the gifts God has placed inside of us that have been very limited by sin. We will rule and reign with Jesus Christ through His expanding universe throughout all eternity.

The Most Important Things are The Most Important Things

The Book of Proverbs in the Bible contains a proverb that basically says the same thing in a different form at least eight times.

Proverbs 10:1

A wise son makes a glad father,

But a foolish son is the grief of his mother. 

     The basic meaning of this proverb and all of its variants is that when a child grows up he or she will either bring joy and satisfaction to the parent or great grief depending on the wisdom of their actions in life. This wisdom comes directly from what the parents have passed down to them.

     If Dad told me once, he told me a hundred times in these last years, “Barry, you will learn one day what I have learned that my greatest satisfaction and what brings me the greatest happiness in these days is the simple fact that all of you children are doing well with your families and that you simply come home.” That seems so simplistic but it mirrors the teaching of God’s Word about what is really important in life. I watched my Dad like I have watched many people on their death beds speak about what is most important in life. Death has a way of focusing your thoughts. Dad prayed over and over again that God would take care of his family. I have never witnessed one person desire to work one more day, or buy one more toy. It is always about family at the time of death

     My Dad had great pleasure in his family. Dad had this thing about never bragging on us in person. But, when I called him all I heard about was how great Keith, Kevin and Karla were.

     Keith, you were his first-born and name sake. Keith was the son with the mechanical abilities. Keith shared the same passion for cars, boating and racing that dad always possessed. Keith is one of the hardest working men I have ever known and if I heard it once I heard it a thousand times from Dad; he was super proud of all that Keith had earned through his success.

    

Last year, Keith took Dad’s 1966 Mustang that had been sitting idle for years and did one of the quickest and best restoration jobs ever. On what would be Dad’s final birthday last October 26^th I had he and Aundria come to Keith’s house early in the morning for breakfast and we presented Dad with a photo album that detailed the step by step restoration of the Mustang. We covered up the pages when we got to the point of the finished car and invited him outside. Keith pulled the cover off and a project that Dad never got around to was finished before his very eyes. That was one of the greatest birthday gifts he ever received and Keith made it all possible. I told Dad that Keith and I shared all of the expenses of the restoration: Keith paid for the car and I paid for the photo album!

 Dad’s passing may be the hardest on Keith because they were as much best friends as they were father and son.

     Kevin, you were the athletically gifted of the sons. Kevin is the one that is built like and looks most like Dad. One of my favorite pictures is the picture that was in the Chattanooga News Free Press when Kevin accepted his College Scholarship. Dad was beaming in that picture and his pride was abundantly clear. Dad was very proud of you Kevin and in these latter years he was not just proud of your athletic achievements and educational and business accomplishments but he was most proud of the man you have become. Kevin is one of the best fathers I have ever known and to talk to Dad was to be reminded of that fact. Kevin, he was proud of the husband you are to your wife, the father you are to your children and the deacon you are to your church.

     Karla, you are the obvious rose among the thorns. I was thirteen when Karla was born. I remember well an experience when you were a little girl and we were on the houseboat. Dad was talking to me and he pointed at you and said, “Barry, that girl will change my life more than any other person.” I did not know Dad was a prophet because it came true; Karla made a wimp out of our strong Father! He was always doing things for her that he would never do for us boys; washing her car, buying her things, and driving her places among so much more. I sometimes wondered who he was when it came to Karla.

Dad was incredibly proud of Karla. He was particularly proud of her academic accomplishments. I must say Karla that you and Dan gave Dad the greatest gift ever almost five years ago when you gave him Chapman. It was impossible to talk with Dad and not have to hear an extended speech about how great Chapman was. One time I was tempted to say, “Why don’t you just skip preschool and high school and send this girl directly to Harvard.” Chapman is indeed a special young girl and Pop loved her greatly.

Aundria, I have to say a word to you as well. To talk with Dad was to hear over and over how thankful he was for you. Forty-six years of faithfulness is a great testimony. Dad certainly knew, and we all knew, that he would have not lasted three months without your encouragement, care and feeding. I call Aundria the Food Warden because she made sure that Dad ate well at all times and in these last years especially.

Proverbs 31:10, 29-30

Who can find a virtuous wife?

For her worth is far above rubies.

"Many daughters have done well,

But you excel them all."

Charm is deceitful and beauty is passing,

But a woman who fears the LORD, she shall be praised.

It is appropriate both practically and biblically that we take the time to “praise” you for your faithfulness as a wife to your husband. Dad was made incredibly rich by your goodness to him.

I guess I could say a word to myself as a son as well. There can be no doubt that I am the runt of the litter. First there is Keith, Kevin, Karla, and Barry – guess which one stands out? They are all tall and handsome or pretty and well I am obviously short and fat. I wasn’t the mechanic, the athlete or the girl. But like David among the sons of Jesse in the Bible, the runt seems to love the most. Although Dad never made it a habit to brag on any of us in person, I think maybe that he may have every now and then said something good about me to the others.

When I was fifteen years old I was driving Aundria’s 1968 blue Chevelle one evening when I made the curve a little too fast in the rain near our home (Keith always reminds me when I tell this story that it was not a curve but a 90 degree turn with a stop sign!). I lost control of the car and careened into the neighbor’s stone mailbox with a gas lamp on top of it. I hit it so hard on the rear passenger side fender that it knocked the whole structure over and the gas lamp hit a tree and bent backward. I could not get the car to start and I could not get the neighbor to come to the door. I went home and told Aundria what had happened. She made sure no one was hurt and the car was out of the road and said Dad would handle it when he got home.

I went down stairs and prayed that the sun would never come up the next day. The Lord did not hear my prayer. I was awakened to Dad shaking me and inquiring as to why the car was parked down the street. I mumbled out that I had wrecked it and he began to clearly tell me to get out of bed immediately. On the eternal walk to our next door neighbor’s house I thought that my life was over. If I was able to drive a car again before I was 25 years old it would be a miracle. If I lived another day it would be a miracle!

When we approached the car Dad began to work on the rear fender prying it away from the tire and he told me to raise the hood and see if I could get the battery connected strong enough to be able to start the car. When I raised the hood I was horrified to see that I had “flipped the breather.” What that meant was I had turned the top of the air filter upside down so when you got into the throttle you could hear the four barrel carburetor sucking the air and fuel down. I knew that if Dad walked around the car and saw that breather flipped he would have the evidence that he already knew that I was out racing that night. Mario Andretti’s pit crew would have been proud of how fast I spun that toggle nut off and flipped the breather back into the correct position before he could walk around the car.

The owner of the house came outside about that time and he and my Dad were talking. The man said, “I had four sons and they all totaled a car before they were eighteen.” Then my Dad said something I will never forget. He was talking to the neighbor but he was looking at me when he said, “That is right, we can replace these old cars but we cannot replace our sons.” I will never forget that moment as long as I live. A fifteen year old boy needed to hear that from his Dad and I will always remember that moment. The discipline came when we got back home. (I was told the 700 dollars I had let him save for me from working for my Uncle Don all summer was no longer owed to me but I was now the proud owner of a wrecked ’68 Chevelle).

Two times Dad directly told me how proud he was of me. Once when I was in graduate school and was sure that Dad thought I had lost my mind pursuing the ministry he wrote me a card and said, “know that I am proud of you.”  The second time was this past year at Christmas when he wrote me a note and said,

                                                   CHRISTMAS  2012

Barry

I am so proud to call you SON. You have overcome so many adversities to become a
great father, husband and minister to many ALONG WITH HAVING A GREAT
FAMILY.

Keep up the good work as some day you will be able to sit back and watch your
children do the same.

“Love “

DAD

My Dad never had as his ultimate goal in life to make a lot of money. Money just did not motivate him. One man who was a millionaire once told me that my Dad could have made ten times as much as him if he had wanted. The end of his life has come and yet the Bible says he has a wife worth more than rubies and he has something many millionaires do not have: his kids come home and they stand up at his funeral and bless him.

 

The Reality of the Gospel and My Dad’s Life

     If you will indulge me for a few more minutes, I want to share a very important truth. In our modern culture we have so lowered the bar to the entrance of heaven that we basically preach everybody into heaven at a funeral. This is much more an American Gospel rather than a biblical Gospel.

     The simple truth is that my Dad was raised in a home where the Word of God was honored and church attendance was valued. He was as we like to say in the South, “raised-right.” But, we must honestly say that for many years of his life he did not live for God. He lived for himself and for his own pleasure. That does not mean he was not a good man during that time it just means that he was living for himself and not for God.

    

     It was about fifteen years ago that Dad surprised me. I was back home in Chattanooga taking a rare weekend off in order to take a young Jacob to a Tennessee football game. During the weekend I told him of my plans to “sneak into the church services at Central Baptist and sit anonymously on the back row.” He said, I will show you were to park. I have been going every week.” He went on to tell me that he was ready to find his way back. On our Sunday night conversations over the years I heard him begin to love the Gospel all over again. He loved to tell me the latest “wild” thing Dr. Ron Phillips had said and Dr. Perry Stone was his favorite preacher.

     I only saw my Dad really cry two times in his life. The first was when I was eight years old and he gathered me and Keith on the couch and got down in the floor in front of us and told us that his beloved mother had passed away. He loved his mother and was unquestionably a momma’s boy.

     The second time I saw him cry was a few years ago. It was after the cancer diagnosis and my first opportunity to spend extended time with him. He wept openly when he thought about the wasted years he had spent living for himself rather than God. After the tears he clearly made the conscious decision not to focus on what he had lost but to celebrate what he had gained. Make no mistake it was not the cancer that brought him to God (even though that would be alright) but rather the way he responded to the cancer proved that he had returned to God.

     This kind of grace is scandalous. It always has been. The legalist wants to count and proclaim that it is not fair when someone receives the same kind of saving grace for less good years. Jesus spoke directly to this issue in the parable of the workers in the vineyard.

     It is found in the Gospel of Matthew the 20^th chapter and if I may tell the story in modern language it tells the story of a landowner who went out to hire workers in his vineyard. He hired a group to begin work at 8am and agreed to pay them $50. He went out again at noon and hired a group to work the remaining hours of the day and also agreed to pay them $50. Again at 3 p.m. he did the same thing and then he went out one hour before closing time and again agreed to pay the workers $50 to work only one hour. Obviously, the workers who were hired earlier in the day were disappointed and expected more.

Jesus said,

 

     And when they had received it, they complained against the landowner, saying, 'These last

     men have worked only one hour, and you made them equal to us who have borne 

     the burden and the heat of the day. 'But he answered one of them and said, 'Friend, I am   

     doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go

     your way. I wish to give to this last man the same as to you. Is it not lawful for me to do

     what I wish with my own things? Or is your eye evil because I am good?' So the last will

     be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few chosen." (Matthew 20:11-16)

Jesus taught us that as the Master he can set the rules any way he desires. And secondly, he taught us grace is never fair and thank God it is not.

The only hope my Dad had for eternal salvation is the only hope any of us have. The grace of God as found in the willing sacrifice of God’s Son, Jesus Christ, who through His death, burial and resurrection provides a way for all of those who trust Him alone for salvation.

The Lord’s Prayer

     A few years ago, we gathered as a family at Keith’s house for Thanksgiving. Before we ate the meal I was all ready to be called upon to return thanks (I don’t know about Bro. Charles here but I am the “professional” Christian in my family, so I always get called upon). Dad surprised us in a very emotional moment by telling us that he had been contacted by a friend the night before who informed him that he had just found out he had cancer. He asked him, “Bill, how are you handling this so well?” My Dad told us that he went back to a prayer that he had never forgotten. He asked all of us to say it with him. It was The Lord’s Prayer. 

     In these recent weeks at the hospital, one night Kevin and I were there together with Dad. My hearing is terrible and I knew Dad was mumbling over and over. I had heard him singing some before but I did not know what he was saying. Kevin said, “Listen closely; He is repeating the Lord’s Prayer over and over again.”

     In honor of my Dad and to the glory of God I am going to ask you to stand with me and say this prayer, the Lord’s Prayer, as our final prayer for this service.

 

Matthew 6:9-13

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil:

For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever.

Amen.