The life that bellowed and boomed for decades was remembered in the end with the sort of mellow restraint that marked its latter years.
“Above all things, our Dad was a Gospel preacher,” said his son, Ian jnr.
But the harsh, judgmental Old Testament hellfire Gospel that he preached while spewing damnation upon opponents – religious and political – was not in evidence yesterday at Ian Paisley’s memorial service.
As the 1,200 invited guests filed into the Ulster Hall, one of unionism's temples, the wonderfully powerful, giant Mulholland organ played a medley of rousing hymns, but delivered softly by organist Joe McKee.
There was O Love that Wilt Not Let Me Go, Was it for Me? followed by With Harps and with Viols. And a favourite of Paisley's father, Old Yet Ever New.
The mood thus created, and sustained throughout the service, was one of mahogany-solid steadfastness, a certainty of conviction that said: “We know our faith – faith in our Lord and faith that our way, His way, is the only way”.
It was not triumphalist but rather a display of restrained old-style evangelical, scripture-based faith, or as the Rev Dr John Douglas put it before reading John 10: 1-11, "the Lord Jesus Christ is speaking".
And it was meant literally.
The faithful invited friends who came were of a type.They began queueing two hours before the doors opened.
Uncomplicated people
Their attire suggested an uncomplicated people; these were not titled, big-house unionists. The men, many holding leather-covered Bibles, wore two-piece suits, neatly starched white shirts and ties, sometimes sombre black, other times in slightly garish colours, the sort of ties that might have been bought in a country drapery shop.
The women wore low-heeled, sensible shoes and black stockings, often nearly hidden by skirts falling far below the knee. Most wore what they called church hats, dark circular hats, proper hats, well made and a little formal, but with not the slightest hint of glamour that might allow them to double as wedding wear.
Ian Paisley – Lord Bannside – had been born on April 6th 1926, said the service booklet, adding “born again: 29 May 1932”.
Long time friend and ministerial colleague, the Rev David McIveen led the congregation singing, in full and lusty voice, Psalm 100, All the People that on Earth do Dwell which Ian jnr sang, Ronan O'Gara style, left hand firmly shoved inside his pocket.
Ian jnr remembered a father who adored his children and grandchildren, a man who, as John Major noted in a letter to him, spoke with clarity. His father, he said, had founded a political party that, under his leadership (and he emphasised the “his” as Peter Robinson sat in the gallery mere feet away) became the largest in the country.
It was a rare dig in an address that dwelt on family and love. “Your children,” he said addressing his departed father, “can with truth rise up this day and call you blesséd.”
Ian jnr’s twin brother, the Rev Kyle Paisley, delivered the sermon. In a loud voice, though not quite his father’s, he dwelt on his faith.
“My father’s greatest passion was to carry the lost sheep to the Good Shepherd.”
His father’s darkest time “was his first imprisonment,” a sentiment with which Martin McGuinness, also looking down from the gallery, could probably have empathised.
Eileen Paisley spoke with a strong, clear voice, despite the emotion of the occasion.
She met and fell in love with Ian in 1950, she said, and had 58 happy years with him.
She described his passing, in the presence of their children:
“He slipped, and peacefully, into the presence of the Good Shepherd in whom he had put his trust as a little boy and who had accompanied him through life and eventually through the valley of the shadow into his own dear presence.”
A piper played Amazing Grace and the congregation came in, the music and words gathered up like a rolling wave:
“Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come;
‘Tis Grace that brought me safe thus far
And Grace will lead me home. . .”
