Three Funerals

 January 24, 2023

This week is one like I haven’t had in years. I’ve been retired for nine years—six actually, since I went back to work for three years, pastoring in Dunkirk with some wonderful people. But for the past three years, I’ve actually been retired. I preach here and there occasionally when asked, but the pace is slower. Until this week. Tomorrow will be the first of three funerals at which I’ll officiate this week. Each one presents a unique twist. The first is the mother of a faithful member of Park church who for years attended the Cassadaga Baptist church. I knew her, but we weren’t close.

Thursday will be the funeral for one of my closest friends who has been in a wheelchair for the past seven or eight years (maybe more; I’ve lost count), the result of a stroke following open heart surgery that left his right side paralyzed and him unable to speak. I visited him most Tuesdays, and deeply feel the loss.

Saturday will be the service for my daughter-in-law’s father. Again, we weren’t particularly close, but had a good relationship where I felt free to speak of Jesus to a man who wouldn’t classify himself as particularly religious.

 

It’s not particularly difficult to write a cohesive and hopefully compelling sermon. I’ve had lots of practice and know the mechanics of putting one together. What is challenging is finding God’s word for that particular moment, that specific situation. Boilerplate sermons are a disservice to those to whom we minister, and a disgrace to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. When God speaks to people, it’s almost always to an individual. He called Abraham, Moses, David, and Isaiah. Each of Jesus’ disciples was called by name; the only ones not individually called were brothers James and John.

So the question for me is always, “What does God want to say to these people at this time?”And the answer to that question is only found in prayer—time spent quietly and intently listening to God. If I fail here, there’s no way I can succeed tomorrow, or Thursday, or Saturday. Even worse, if I don’t succeed, I deny God the opportunity to offer grace, salvation, and healing when people need it the most. 

So I think, I read Scripture, I write, and I pray, trusting that God will once more fulfill his promise to speak his healing word through me. If you will, I invite you to pray also. As I said, the mechanics are pretty mundane, but the message is anything but, and those who are hurting deserve all the comfort and strength God offers without interference from me.