Mark's Funeral Eulogy
N MEMORY OF MARK CHRISTOPHER PAINE
MEMORIAL SERVICE – TRINITY PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ARLINGTON, VA
NOVEMBER 02, 2006
If you ever spent time with Mark, this moment would have been unimaginable. Part of the charm of Mark was that he was always in the moment. You never dwelled much on the past. The future would come soon enough--and certainly didn’t warrant much anxiety. For Mark, there was now. And Mark’s “now” was rich. It was vital and hopeful and contagious.
Tonight. Here. I would give anything—anything—for just one more of Mark’s “nows.”
Madelene L’Engle says that we have point of view, but that God has a view. I believe that. But one of the hardest things to reconcile from my limited perspective is that Mark’s training and experience and intellect was just finally catching up with his imagination. And those of you who know Mark, know that he could imagine quite a lot! As brilliant as his 32 years were, there were but a portent of things to come.
In the brief time that I have here tonight, I wanted to share what I consider the 3 pillars of Mark—the 3 weight-bearing columns needed to hold up that dome we called Mark Paine
Mark The Miscreant.
One of my earliest memories of pain and disappointment came at the hands of Mark. When I was 7 years old, I built a Lincoln Log metropolis. It had highways and byways, city centers and mass transit systems… It probably even had aqueducts. About the time I had finished, I walked out to show my Mom and gloat a little, only to look over my shoulder and see “Mark the Destroyer” come through and wreck everything in just a few swipes. I was inconsolable. I think it was only a year later that I asked my parents if I could have locks on my door.
As Mark got older, he wisely understood that the best way to stay out of trouble at home was to befriend the police. They all knew him by name—and even let me off a few times because “oh, you’re Mark’s Paine’s brother…”
During Mark’s first tour in Korea, I asked him what it was like. He responded: “The Army is the best. It’s like the Boy Scouts but without adult supervision…”
I think that Mark carried this sense of mischievousness even into leadership. While in Iraq, he wrote to me that to do something worthy of chew-out from Colonel Hickey usually meant it was at least half worth it… One of his jobs in Iraq was to blow up weapons caches if they were found and Mark always used WAY more explosives than he needed. I think at one time he caused such a big explosion that it registered as a seismic event 70 miles south in Baghdad and Mark’s commanders started getting calls.
One of Mark’s heroes was Douglas MacArthur, who famously said: “It’s not the orders you follow that make you famous, it’s the ones you disobey…” Mark’s sense of self and right (and wrong) was deeply rooted in his belief that joy sits latent in every moment. Why not seize it?
Mark the Warrior.
Mark once jokingly said: “I joined the Army to fight the barbarians on the edges of the empire…” He was of course kidding, but he held a deep sense of adventure and daring that only a military life could fill.
Mark also loved living in a theater where the stakes are extraordinarily high. Napoleon once quipped: “Glory may be fleeting, but obscurity is forever!” Mark was a big Napoleon fan and that was Mark…
Mark’s favorite tour (by far) was Kosovo. He was there to erect bridges, rebuild schools and broker deals between people that weren’t necessarily friends. Mark the warrior was really Mark the emissary and Mark the consul. But… if you ever chose to perpetrate violence on Mark, or his family, or his friends, or God forbid his troops, you were likely to experience a terror and reprisal so fierce that you would not consider that course of action again. Mark was a terrible enemy. But first, Mark was always your greatest ally.
As a student of history, I think Mark’s greatest dream was that he might be in a position to promote democracy or help accelerate change in desperate places. “Warrior,” he used to say, has a special meaning in the military: our ideas may not always win, but we can help create the environment where ideas—and not violence—win the day.
Mark the Brother.
For my 30th birthday, Mark sent me cigar humidor with the inscription “we happy few, we band of brothers…” from Shakespeare’s Henry V. What was most fitting, was that it had nothing to do with the fact that we share the same parents. Mark always reminded me of the things that we had endured together. Brotherhood was an earned experience with Mark, which is why there are probably 30 people here who would call Mark brother. When he left Korea, the South Korean Army through Mark a huge gala where the Korean commander presented him with an antique sword and open invitation to return “home” anytime. The past two weeks, I have received over 400 emails from people around the world who served with Mark, knew Mark as friend, or just met him in an airport bar (true story!).
Of course, Mark shared a bond with his soldiers that I will never fully appreciate. I suppose the part I can relate is that I often sat in rapt awe of some of the things Mark would do. He spent half of his mid-tour leave visiting widows and wounded soldiers. He would insist on leading patrols and missions from the front, even when he knew that the Iraqis had a huge price on his head. He was routinely behind on his paperwork because he just couldn’t stand the idea of his troops being in the field without him sharing the risk.
Often, I would just beam: “That is my brother,” completely mystified that we share the same blood.
**************************
Upon these 3 pillars of Mark the Miscreant, Mark the Warrior, and Mark the Brother rested the soul of a servant. Mark was a giving tree to the end. He held himself in deep humility. In fact, Mark was expecting to begin an elite Masters Program next year for the Army’s future leaders – a joint venture between Columbia University and West Point. This week, the program decided to create an award in Mark’s name for the person who most embodies what it means to be a servant leader. In other words, each year, a small group of the Army’s future leaders will elect a peer from their class to receive the “Mark Paine Award” for leading by serving. I think it’s an honor that Mark would have immediately deferred credit for, which is what makes it so apt for his memory.
*************************************
Just three days before Mark died, he wrote to me “Don’t ever worry about me…” with his favorite verse from Romans that Wendy Weikel mentioned earlier.
Mark was convinced—I will say it again—convinced that nothing could separate him from God’s love. And he lived like it. He served and loved and lived and shined like an heir to God’s kingdom.
In just 32 years Mark demonstrated that the measure of a life is incalculable if we allow ourselves to be an instrument in the hand of the Almighty.
*************************************
Last year, Mark confided that one of his favorite books of all time is “A Tale of Two Cities.” He loved epic stories set against the backdrop of history’s inflection points. The story ends with a breathtaking sacrifice. Sydney Carton bribes his way into the French garrison and switches places with his friend Charles Darnay with whom he shares an incredible likeness. Darnay—an honorable and good man with a family back in England—is smuggled out of France while Carton faces the guillotine in a final sacrifice for his friend. His last thought—and the last words of the book—could be Mark’s: "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
Brother: I am going to miss you so much.
Thank you for showing us how to live.
MEMORIAL SERVICE – TRINITY PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH, ARLINGTON, VA
NOVEMBER 02, 2006
If you ever spent time with Mark, this moment would have been unimaginable. Part of the charm of Mark was that he was always in the moment. You never dwelled much on the past. The future would come soon enough--and certainly didn’t warrant much anxiety. For Mark, there was now. And Mark’s “now” was rich. It was vital and hopeful and contagious.
Tonight. Here. I would give anything—anything—for just one more of Mark’s “nows.”
Madelene L’Engle says that we have point of view, but that God has a view. I believe that. But one of the hardest things to reconcile from my limited perspective is that Mark’s training and experience and intellect was just finally catching up with his imagination. And those of you who know Mark, know that he could imagine quite a lot! As brilliant as his 32 years were, there were but a portent of things to come.
In the brief time that I have here tonight, I wanted to share what I consider the 3 pillars of Mark—the 3 weight-bearing columns needed to hold up that dome we called Mark Paine
Mark The Miscreant.
One of my earliest memories of pain and disappointment came at the hands of Mark. When I was 7 years old, I built a Lincoln Log metropolis. It had highways and byways, city centers and mass transit systems… It probably even had aqueducts. About the time I had finished, I walked out to show my Mom and gloat a little, only to look over my shoulder and see “Mark the Destroyer” come through and wreck everything in just a few swipes. I was inconsolable. I think it was only a year later that I asked my parents if I could have locks on my door.
As Mark got older, he wisely understood that the best way to stay out of trouble at home was to befriend the police. They all knew him by name—and even let me off a few times because “oh, you’re Mark’s Paine’s brother…”
During Mark’s first tour in Korea, I asked him what it was like. He responded: “The Army is the best. It’s like the Boy Scouts but without adult supervision…”
I think that Mark carried this sense of mischievousness even into leadership. While in Iraq, he wrote to me that to do something worthy of chew-out from Colonel Hickey usually meant it was at least half worth it… One of his jobs in Iraq was to blow up weapons caches if they were found and Mark always used WAY more explosives than he needed. I think at one time he caused such a big explosion that it registered as a seismic event 70 miles south in Baghdad and Mark’s commanders started getting calls.
One of Mark’s heroes was Douglas MacArthur, who famously said: “It’s not the orders you follow that make you famous, it’s the ones you disobey…” Mark’s sense of self and right (and wrong) was deeply rooted in his belief that joy sits latent in every moment. Why not seize it?
Mark the Warrior.
Mark once jokingly said: “I joined the Army to fight the barbarians on the edges of the empire…” He was of course kidding, but he held a deep sense of adventure and daring that only a military life could fill.
Mark also loved living in a theater where the stakes are extraordinarily high. Napoleon once quipped: “Glory may be fleeting, but obscurity is forever!” Mark was a big Napoleon fan and that was Mark…
Mark’s favorite tour (by far) was Kosovo. He was there to erect bridges, rebuild schools and broker deals between people that weren’t necessarily friends. Mark the warrior was really Mark the emissary and Mark the consul. But… if you ever chose to perpetrate violence on Mark, or his family, or his friends, or God forbid his troops, you were likely to experience a terror and reprisal so fierce that you would not consider that course of action again. Mark was a terrible enemy. But first, Mark was always your greatest ally.
As a student of history, I think Mark’s greatest dream was that he might be in a position to promote democracy or help accelerate change in desperate places. “Warrior,” he used to say, has a special meaning in the military: our ideas may not always win, but we can help create the environment where ideas—and not violence—win the day.
Mark the Brother.
For my 30th birthday, Mark sent me cigar humidor with the inscription “we happy few, we band of brothers…” from Shakespeare’s Henry V. What was most fitting, was that it had nothing to do with the fact that we share the same parents. Mark always reminded me of the things that we had endured together. Brotherhood was an earned experience with Mark, which is why there are probably 30 people here who would call Mark brother. When he left Korea, the South Korean Army through Mark a huge gala where the Korean commander presented him with an antique sword and open invitation to return “home” anytime. The past two weeks, I have received over 400 emails from people around the world who served with Mark, knew Mark as friend, or just met him in an airport bar (true story!).
Of course, Mark shared a bond with his soldiers that I will never fully appreciate. I suppose the part I can relate is that I often sat in rapt awe of some of the things Mark would do. He spent half of his mid-tour leave visiting widows and wounded soldiers. He would insist on leading patrols and missions from the front, even when he knew that the Iraqis had a huge price on his head. He was routinely behind on his paperwork because he just couldn’t stand the idea of his troops being in the field without him sharing the risk.
Often, I would just beam: “That is my brother,” completely mystified that we share the same blood.
**************************
Upon these 3 pillars of Mark the Miscreant, Mark the Warrior, and Mark the Brother rested the soul of a servant. Mark was a giving tree to the end. He held himself in deep humility. In fact, Mark was expecting to begin an elite Masters Program next year for the Army’s future leaders – a joint venture between Columbia University and West Point. This week, the program decided to create an award in Mark’s name for the person who most embodies what it means to be a servant leader. In other words, each year, a small group of the Army’s future leaders will elect a peer from their class to receive the “Mark Paine Award” for leading by serving. I think it’s an honor that Mark would have immediately deferred credit for, which is what makes it so apt for his memory.
*************************************
Just three days before Mark died, he wrote to me “Don’t ever worry about me…” with his favorite verse from Romans that Wendy Weikel mentioned earlier.
Mark was convinced—I will say it again—convinced that nothing could separate him from God’s love. And he lived like it. He served and loved and lived and shined like an heir to God’s kingdom.
In just 32 years Mark demonstrated that the measure of a life is incalculable if we allow ourselves to be an instrument in the hand of the Almighty.
*************************************
Last year, Mark confided that one of his favorite books of all time is “A Tale of Two Cities.” He loved epic stories set against the backdrop of history’s inflection points. The story ends with a breathtaking sacrifice. Sydney Carton bribes his way into the French garrison and switches places with his friend Charles Darnay with whom he shares an incredible likeness. Darnay—an honorable and good man with a family back in England—is smuggled out of France while Carton faces the guillotine in a final sacrifice for his friend. His last thought—and the last words of the book—could be Mark’s: "It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
Brother: I am going to miss you so much.
Thank you for showing us how to live.
posted by Brandon at 4:06 PM
1 Comments:
I cannot think of a single person who has blessed me with more inspiration than has the life of Captain Mark C. Paine. I thank God for the majesty of such a man. I am a simple man, a writer of sorts, with but a snippet of the mettle and magnitude of Mark C. Paine. Yet I can assure you: I am, because of him, a stronger and wiser man. His life has affected me in ways that would please God and all those who were blessed by having known and loved this young man. Oh, how I would have loved to have met him. I have a strong sense that I will.
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