Funerals

Funerals

As a pastor, I meet people in a lot of different circumstances. Many of those are good times: weddings, anniversaries, baptisms, and graduations. Some are difficult occasions: divorces, marriage counseling and family disputes. The most difficult are serious illness and death. Only the experience of walking through these situations equips you to say and do that which brings comfort.

Over the years I have officiated at a lot of funerals, almost to many to count. The closer you are to the deceased, the harder it is. The most difficult funerals I did were for my mom and dad. It was only by the grace of God that I made it through.

Three other funerals I do remember. Each was unique. All three were graveside services. The first was a burial at a National Cemetery. The family gathered around as the casket was lowered into the ground. All of a sudden, the wife jumped into the grave! I was at a loss for words as several of us pulled her out.

 The second was a large family graveside service. As I was saying the closing prayer, the frame that held the casket over the grave collapsed and the casket went headfirst into the grave. We all stood there not believing what just happened. Then the family started laughing and one of them said, “Dad would have really enjoyed that.” What a time we had getting that set right.

The third was a graveside in Boot Hill, Virginia City, Montana. We were burying a friend. The family had made the casket. Those standing there were wearing cowboy hats and slickers. The sky was dark grey with thunder in the distance. After I said the prayers, ropes lowered the casket. It was like a chapter our of a Louis L’Amour book.

Over the years, I have come to see that the most important part of pastoring is being there. Just my presence and what I represent can bring peace and stability into a very difficult situation. I have learned that a few words along with a willingness to embrace and be present are all that is required.

The Bible says: “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants.” Amen!

Late For A Funeral

Late For A Funeral

It was a lazy June afternoon. I had just returned from a two-week trip to East Africa teaching at a Pastors Conference. Recovering from jet lag, I was in my office at church when I received a call from the local funeral director. He informed me that the family of a deceased church member was waiting for me at the funeral home. Was I planning on coming over?

This church member had died some months before and was cremated. The widow wasn’t up to a burial at that time. Before leaving for Africa, a date was set upon my return. With all that goes into re-entry after an overseas trip, I promptly forgot all about the service. The family didn’t and was gathered at the funeral home wondering what happened to their pastor.

When I received the call, I was dressed in jeans and a short sleeve shirt, presentable enough to perform the service. Speeding across town, I made it  there in record time. I was so flustered as I walked in that I could hardly speak. No excuse would be good enough to explain my poor memory. In all my years of ministry this was the first time I forgot to show up at a funeral. A sure sign I was starting to slip.

The widow and the family were very gracious. We were good friends and they were generous is their forgiveness. On the way to the cemetery all I could do was try to pull myself together and focus on what I needed to say at the graveside. I must have sounded like an idiot because I kept losing my place in the prayer book and the family kept laughing because they had never seen me so shook up.

Somehow I made it through still feeling embarrassed at my meager performance as their pastor. As we were walking back to the car, the widow thanked me for coming. She gave me a big hug and presented me with a plastic case about the size of a shoebox. She told me that her late husband would want me to have this as thank you gift. As I opened the box inside was a brand new Smith and Wesson stainless steel revolver! I confess that God does work in mysterious ways.