My eyes still feel puffy from the tears that leaked from my eyes and ran down my cheeks this afternoon. I wasn’t planning or expecting to cry, so I hadn’t even carried a tissue with me. But the involuntary tears made their appearance, and there was nothing I could do but let them fall.

The auditorium, which officially seats 1200, was more than packed. I sat in the balcony, where some people had to stand along the aisles. As a community, we gathered to mourn the loss and celebrate the life of Lee Eshleman. It’s hard to sing when your throat is tight and the tears welling up in your eyes threaten to spill over. I made it through the first two congregational songs OK (“Come, Let Us All Unite to Sing” and “Praise the Lord, Sing Hallelujah”), but when we started singing “Wonderful Grace of Jesus,” I only got through part of the first verse before the tears started to fall.

Wonderful grace of Jesus, greater than all my sin;
how shall my tongue describe it, where shall its praise begin?
Taking away my burden, setting my spirit free,
for the wonderful grace of Jesus reaches me.

The reality that Lee ended his battle with depression through suicide makes the words of this hymn incredibly poignant.

This wasn’t the first time I had attended a memorial service for someone I had never met. The first was just over a year ago, after the death of Tom Fox, a Christian peace activist whose kidnapping and death in Iraq was widely publicized. Tom and I had mutual friends. Lee and I also had mutual friends. Many of them. Lee was more than just a friend, of course — he was a son, a grandson, a husband, a father.

It was a meaningful, unusual time of remembrance. Never before have I attended a funeral or memorial service where the mourners watched comedy clips on the video screen prior to the arrival of the family. But we did, and in fact, it would have been wrong not to. As half of the fantastic comedy duo Ted & Lee, Lee will long be remembered for the way he presented insights into scripture (and the more mundane things in life…) with humor. This was also the only memorial service I’ve attended where the decor on stage included such recognizable props and costumes as Lee’s viking hat, the book “Green Eggs and Ham,” and the angel Gabriel’s robe.

Lee’s best friend and business partner, Ted, read Lee’s “life sketch” a.k.a. eulogy, and of course he managed to throw in some much-needed humor and levity as well. (Did you know that Lee flossed daily?) The remainder of the memorial service was fairly typical, except for the fact that one of the special musicians was none other than Ken Medema.

In spite of the difficult circumstances surrounding Lee’s death, the memorial service proclaimed a message of hope. The final congregational song we sang was “I Am the Bread of Life.” I offer these words from verse four in closing:

I am the resurrection, I am the life.
If you believe in me, even though you die,
you shall live forever.