As I walked up, on a blisteringly hot day, to the front door of the historic Central United Methodist Church in Atlanta, Georgia, I was struck by the long line already outside the church waiting to get in. I had arrived ten minutes early, thinking I would be more than fine. I was wrong. Coach Beal was a very popular man. I knew this, but now I realized it was on a much grander scale.
As I went into the church and signed the book, I was told that there was no space in either the main part of the church or even the balcony. There was an overflow room set up behind the church with a video feed. However, they encouraged me and the others arriving then to simply walk up and view his body at the front of the sanctuary. As I walked down the center aisle, with mourners on every side and even spilling from the balcony, I was struck with the feeling of, “I can’t believe I’m here.” It was surreal, to put it mildly.
As I looked and saw this great man who meant so much to me and so many others, emotions flooded in. I thought of the very first time I ever saw Coach Beal. It was at an information meeting for those interested in playing football. He walked in and was introduced as the defensive coordinator. I was immediately struck by his presence. He took over a room. Even though he wasn’t the head coach, he felt like the head coach.He presented himself in a quiet, austere manner that overflowed with humility and confidence at the same time. A rare trait indeed. From the minute I met Coach Beal until that moment of standing over his coffin, I had loved and respected him, and valued everything that came out of his mouth.
The funeral was held this past Friday, at the historic church directly across from Mercedes-Benz Stadium. For years, Coach Beal had encouraged me to visit a church service there. I always thought there would be time in the future to attend with him. (continue below this pic)
The City of God and the City of Man
In the days leading up to the funeral, I found myself thinking about Saint Augustine and his teaching on the City of God versus the City of Man. Coach Beal was a man who, I believe, subconsciously and with seemingly little effort, was teaching us about this all along. I see him through the lens of Augustine’s teaching. We, as followers of Christ Jesus, are primarily part of the City of God. This is our true citizenship and our ultimate loyalty. It begins through a choice, preservers in discipline & endurance, and will last into eternity. It is through this citizenship we form the values that we hope to pass on to our children, and their children, and their children.
The second part of Augustine’s teaching is the City of Man. In Augustine’s case, it was Rome. In Coach Beal’s case, it was Atlanta, Georgia. In the City of Man, we are residents. We live and do our best to represent our true allegiance, which is as citizens of the Kingdom of God and servants of God himself. We live as resident aliens in this City of Man, bringing the values of the Kingdom of God with us.
This is how I have come to understand Coach Beal’s life. He truly embodied the values of the City of God while living as a resident in the City of Man. He exuded the ultimate values of the City of God by living out the fruit of the Spirit. As a goofy tenth grader, I probably would have never described my hard-nosed football coach as a person of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, goodness, and self-control. But looking back, I clearly see that he was all of these and more.
Love Requires Toughness
There were times on the football field when tough love was required, but it was love nonetheless. There were times when a fight would break out in the hallways of our school, as it did on a semi-regular basis. On several occasions, Coach Beal was present or quick to the scene. In these situations, he would shift into another gear and, with solemnity and strength, grab two tenth graders and hold them apart with almost Herculean strength. His love for them required that he be tough. His love for them required that he seek truth and stand on it.
The Office at Avondale High School
A few years after high school, maybe my third year in college, I stopped by Coach Beal’s office at Avondale High School, where he was then the head football coach. I had not seen him in two or three years and was a little nervous about just walking into his office. When I rounded the corner, he absolutely lit up. Thinking about it now, tears come to my eyes. Though I am certain he had many more things to do on that random Wednesday at 4:00 p.m., he stopped everything and caught up with me.
For perhaps the first time in my life, I did not see him as a coach who held the keys to my playing time or as a coach I desperately wanted to please or even as a coach I feared disappointing when I messed up. Instead, he was a man who told me for the first time that I should call him Chris, not Coach Beal. He asked me about women, my career, and my life trajectory. He asked about my parents and told me how much he had always admired them.
Driving away from that parking lot in Decatur, Georgia, I still revered Coach Beal as Coach, and to this day I could never quite bring myself to call him Chris, as he asked. But that day I also saw a much deeper picture of him that changed the way I interacted with him until the end.
An Open Letter from China
Years later, I was sitting in a coffee shop in China. I had been there 10+ years by that time. Word reached me that Coach Beal was retiring as an educator and coach in Atlanta that very day. Though I still could not text or call him from China, I did the only thing I knew to do. I wrote an open letter to him, hoped it would get to him, and posted it publicly.
Here it is. . . The Influence of My High School Football Coach on My Life
A few months later, I was back in Atlanta and on the verge of accepting a job that would take me out of China and move me to Los Angeles. We met at what he told me was one of his favorite places to eat at Little Azio in East Atlanta. We talked for hours, about his career, the incredible influence he had on me and countless others, and why he felt the need and desire to retire earlier than he had to.
Coach Beal had become friends with the civil rights leader Joseph Lowery. Dr. Lowery had begun an organization focused on civic engagement, and Coach Beal had been asked to be part of it. He was excited to shift from extending his influence as a citizen of God through education into community activation in the City of Man.
A Cookout to honor Coach Beal
Not long after that lunch, I hosted a small cookout at my house in Atlanta for several former teammates in honor of Coach Beal’s retirement. Many weren’t able to come, but for those who did, it was a special time. We laughed, talked about football games from twenty years earlier, and shared the ups and downs of life since then. Coach Beal was at the center of it, but for the first time, he really did begin to feel like Chris, though I could still only call him “Coach Beal.” Some habits can never be changed, nor should they.
The picture above is from that evening.
A Beautiful Funeral for a Remarkable Man
Friday’s funeral service was truly remarkable. It was laden with Jesus, saturated with the gospel, and both respectful of the mourning of losing our dear brother Coach Beal, but also exceedingly hopeful with the assurance of his standing before Christ now and forever.
Tears and laughter were both abundant. It formed a beautiful memorial for a man who truly deserved it.
Person after person spoke deep and detailed testimonies about how Christopher Beal impacted their lives for good. I knew he had done so in the lives of myself and classmates at Henderson High School, but I had no idea of the depth and scale of his influence. I had no idea of the number of lives he impacted through Avondale High School, McNair High School, and Tucker High School. He was everything from a teacher and coach to a school principal.
Those giving testimonies at his funeral were across the gamut, from men who had been friends with him his entire life to family members, to former football players, and even to DeKalb County police officers who had worked extensively with him at his schools during his time as a principal. It was truly awesome to see.
What touched me most was that he had been in a Saturday morning breakfast club for over 20 years with the same men. They talked about deep things, things that mattered, things of faith, things of their professions, and families. They often strategized about specific young men who were in trouble and needed to be positioned or protected. They also laughed a great deal.
Another thing that stood out was how focused Coach Beal was on what mattered. The students, particularly young men, and even more particularly young African-American men, were his clear strike zone. I consider myself blessed and fortunate beyond words that though I did not fall completely in his strike zone, he still cared for me, loved me, and guided me each and every time I was ever with him.
Another area of focus in Coach Beal’s life was his faith. He was committed to the same church for decades, and as the pastors said, he was an actual “show-up Christian.” He was there for Bible studies, for Sunday school, and for regular church attendance. He invested in the community. Everybody knew him, loved him, and respected him.
In a world where very few of us honor the consistency of weekly and daily commitments, Coach Beal shone as a man who was daily committed to his job as an educator, his calling in serving young men, and his weekly commitment to his local church.
The Brevity of Life and Hope Eternal
I am reminded of the brevity of life. Standing there looking at Coach Beal’s body in the front of that packed church, he actually looked great. However, it was also clearly not him. It was simply the body he inhabited for all those years. The spirit of that man who truly changed the world had ascended. He fulfilled his calling, made this world look more like Jesus because of his 6+ decades of life, and is now truly at rest and peace.
And ultimately, isn’t that the gospel? Because of the birth, perfect life, death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ, our lives truly have eternal significance, well beyond even our capacity to understand it.
What I’ll Remember
That is the thing about citizens of the Kingdom of God, such as Coach Beal. He touched me and countless others in his role as a resident of the City of Man, in his roles as educator, coach, churchman, and civic activist. But it is the values Coach Beal had because of his citizenship in the City of God that I am thinking about now, and those are the values I will always remember him for.
Coach Beal truly was a man of faith, hope, and love; a man of peace and kindness, of truth and gentleness, of masculinity, loyalty, character, and integrity. He was a man of many things. He was the best coach I ever had. He was a great educator and, from what I could see, a great father. He loved his wife and loved his family. I am certain I will see him again, and I look forward to that day.
I am truly grateful for the legacy of Coach Christopher Beal. It was bittersweet. It was wonderful to sit in a room with others who loved and adored him, to cry, to laugh, to remember, and to honor. I am one of thousands of men and women who are truly better off because Coach Christopher Lane Beal lived, cared, and exercised his faith day in and day out in the city of Atlanta, Georgia
(Also related to death, Death at 22. . . But a Life-long Impact of Friendship)
I would love to hear your thoughts on this. . .