Who Will Carry Your Casket

Who Will Carry Your Casket?

In my years as a rabbi, I have presided over 500 funerals. I’ve stood graveside as men—sometimes six, sometimes eight, never fewer than four—took on the sacred task of carrying a brother to his final resting place.

And I’ve seen the difference.

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Others are carried by obligation—a last-minute hodgepodge of coworkers, distant relatives, and men who barely knew them beyond surface-level interactions.

This isn’t just a logistical matter.

It’s a spiritual reckoning.

Why This Question Matters

Because it’s not just about who will carry your body—it’s about who has carried your soul.

A man’s funeral tells a story.

Not just about how he lived, but about how he connected.

About whether he had men in his life who truly saw him, who knew his battles, his joys, his pain.

Or if he lived his life alone in a crowd, surrounded by people but never truly known.

Too many men wake up one day and realize they are utterly alone.

They have poker buddies, golf partners, colleagues to drink with. They have plenty of acquaintances but no true brothers.

Then tragedy strikes—a death, a divorce, a crisis.

And suddenly, they realize:

“I have plenty of guys to grab a beer with… but no one to call at 2 AM when my world is falling apart.”

And that’s a hell of a way to live.

Because, in the end, it’s also how you’ll die.

The Loneliest Generation of Men

Men in the second half of life—40s, 50s, and 60s—are lonelier than ever before.

And this isn’t just some vague cultural observation. It’s proven by data:

A 2021 Harvard study on loneliness found that 61% of men feel lonely on a regular basis.
A 2023 Gallup poll revealed that only 27% of men say they have six or more close friends, a steep drop from 55% in 1990.
A 2022 Survey Center on American Life study found that 15% of men report having no close friends at all, up from just 3% in 1990.
The former U.S. Surgeon General, Dr. Vivek Murthy, has called male loneliness an epidemic, warning that it has the same health risks as smoking 15 cigarettes a day.

Think about that.

Loneliness is as lethal as a pack-a-day smoking habit.

And yet, we treat it like it’s no big deal.

Steven Had 3,000 Friends—But No Brothers

I once coached a man named Steven.

Steven had everything a man is supposed to want—wealth, a thriving career, a wife, grown kids, and a full calendar of social events. On the surface, he was successful. He was the guy who knew everyone. The life of the party. The guy with 3,000 Facebook friends.

But when his marriage hit a crisis and his father passed away in the same year, something hit him like a brick wall:

“I have 3,000 Facebook friends… but not a single one I’d want to carry my casket.”

He had men to drink with but no men to talk with.
He had men to golf with but no men to go to war with.
He had men to laugh with but no men to cry with.

Steven wasn’t alone.

He was lonely.

And there’s a difference.

From Meaning Counseling to Men’s Meaning Coaching

For years, I worked in meaning counseling, helping people—men and women—discover their purpose and navigate life’s struggles. It was meaningful work. But something wasn’t clicking.

I saw a pattern in men, especially those in the second half of life. They weren’t struggling with external success; they were struggling with inner emptiness.

They had spent their lives climbing—career ladders, social ladders, financial ladders—only to reach the top and realize they were alone.

And this is when a shift happens. Or at least, it should.

The first half of life is about proving yourself.

The second half of life is about leading yourself.

It’s a moment when a man stops trying to impress and starts trying to build something real.

It’s the moment a man must say the words every man needs to say:

“King me.”

Not in the childish, competitive sense of checkers, where you take power by jumping another man.

No, this is something deeper.

This is about becoming a king—a man who rules not over others, but over himself.

But here’s the truth:

A king without a kingdom is just a man on a throne with no one to lead, no one to serve, no one to stand beside him.

And a lonely king is not a true king.

Because a kingdom is not built on power—it is built on people.

A king isn’t a king just because he holds the title.

He’s a king because he has brothers, allies, warriors at his side.

Men who will fight for him.
Men who will tell him the truth.
Men who will grieve him when he’s gone.

Are you ready to take your place?

Because if you are, it’s going to require love, devotion, support—the intimacy of other men.

It’s going to require you to let other men in, to drop the armor, to build something real.

It’s going to require you to stop pretending you can do this alone.