Eulogy

Dad grew up as a straight forward old protestant. He attended Crystal Springs Church of God in Benton Harbor, Michigan. Dad was a thinker. They say that Catholicism is the thinking man’s Christianity. So, I was not surprised when he converted to Catholicism.

We were not raised Catholic. So, I studied it. Just a little bit. One thing that struck me is that the rituals in the mass come from the roots of Judaism.

As children he took us to church three times a week, bought us bibles, sent us to Christian summer camp. He played Unshackled, a Christian radio show, during the car ride home from church.  He bought each of us a wooden plaque with our Hebrew translated meaning etched into each sign. My brother kept his and hung it in his garage.

Dad was also a classically trained pianist, who turned down getting recommended into an international piano school. He could play anything by ear. He was that good.

Dad was a jokester. He loved to play a joke. At Pam’s wedding he played the death march, just to ease the tension. DUM DUM Da DUM, DUM da DUM DUM DUM DUM DUM. She smiled from ear to ear as she walked down that isle.

Our parents were teenagers when they met. Once, they had a huge fight, and mom broke up with dad because he would not budge on his belief that all Catholics go to hell.

Dad was a bad boy and he was put into time out. For 30 years. It was during his time out that he converted to Catholicism.

  These are his words.

“When I first got locked up, the only way I was allowed to get out of my cell was to go to church.  So, what the heck?  I went to church.  I ended up going to a Catholic service.  I don’t know anything about the Catholics.  What they believed.  But, I listened.  Once I came in before anybody else did.  The priest was there.  He was all dressed up.  And, he was talking to someone.  The guy he was talking to wanted to know what the Catholic church was all about.  And, I thought to myself oh, I don’t know anything about it either.  So, I sat in with the priest and we listened on how it came to be.  When we got all done the guy there stepped forward to do his confessions. I had to leave. I wasn’t ready for that.  I wasn’t there only one day. It was more than one time.  The catholic religion wasn’t much different than what I grew up with.

I pulled the priest to the side.

I said, ‘Why do you get involved in all this, in helping all the convicts?’ Then we talked about confessions.  I didn’t know that I could really trust the priest because if I did the confession, and he had to, if he were forced by the government, he’d have to tell them what I said.  I don’t want to risk that.  So, we sat down.

The priest says, ‘Look, he says, I, myself, by the Catholic religion, am not allowed to reveal anything that was said in a confession.  I reached a state in my life where, I was forced, rather, ordered by the government to give the confession.’  It was a very serious crime.

Then the priest said, ‘I refused to do it.  I just refused.’

The priest admitted, ‘They took me to court, ya know, to try to force it, and it dragged on, but I finally did beat the case.’

  The priest reiterated, ‘That’s still the way it works with me.  I do not reveal.’

I said, ‘Wow!’  So, we talked about it, and I said, ‘Ok.’  And then I made the conversion.   

Then I said to the priest, ‘Look, I gotta do something.  I’m stuck.  I can hardly even talk to anybody.  Because I am in one cell, and another guy is in the other cell.  I can’t go talk to that guy.  I can’t leave the cell.  The only time I can leave is when I come here, or have a medical procedure where they take me with a couple guards.  The only thing I’m good at in here is music.  But, you already have somebody that plays the piano for the mass.  I can’t do anything.’

The priest came back next time and he says, ‘I want to authorize you to be our musician for the mass in jail.’  They brought me in and I started playing the piano for mass. I’ve played it every Sunday since.”

Dad took his conversion to Catholicism seriously. His priest became his friend, through the shared music, and dad got a rosary that he claimed was blessed by the Pope. Since his conversion, he never missed a service either in prison, or after his release, unless he was sick.

When I picked dad up from the halfway house the first thing he said is, “Don’t tell your mom I’m a Catholic!”

Mom and I had a good laugh about the irony of that.

I want to pray the rosary for dad.  Not in full, because I’m new at it. Just enough to contemplate the mysteries in the Bible, which meant the world to him.  I think this would make him proud.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In times of sickness and death, prayers are the best means of consolation, comfort and help that people can give. Let us now begin this Rosary by calling on our Blessed Mother Mary to pray for us now as we pray for Ronald William Pelton.

God of heaven, You called Ronald from this life. God of Mercy, fulfill his faith and hope in You. Lead Ron safely home to heaven to be with You forever, filled with joy and peace in Your presence. We ask this through Christ, our Lord. Amen.

For all of us non-Catholics, this is called the Apostles Creed.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Creator of heaven and earth, and in Jesus Christ, His only Son our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He descended into hell; on the third day He rose again from the dead. He ascended into heaven, and is seated at the right hand of God the Father Almighty; from there He will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of Saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting. Amen.

Dad’s rosary hangs in my car. It is his symbol of his dedication to his chosen faith. I touch it before every drive, and tell dad he is not forgotten.  I like to watch it bounce around when I drive. It reminds me of his spiritual essence that he fully embraced.

Dad had two main things that were dear to his heart; his Catholic faith, and his family.

I will end my tribute to dad by sharing with you what he always wanted us to remember about him.  He said, “Ya know.  This will sound strange, but, if you can always remember that family is important to me.  It was important when I was as small as I can remember. It was important as I was growing up, and it’s important today.  And, I wish it to be important after this is all done.  Everything we just talked about.  Family was always important.”

His eyes watered as he spoke. Just like when I visited him in prison.  He greeted me with watery eyes, and when I said goodbye they watered again.

I hope he has tears of happiness in heaven because he watched me pray his rosary.