I am hardly what most would consider a fatalistic person but I was thinking about my funeral today. I do not usually think about things like that but it is natural when you are at a funeral to think about your own. My elderly next-door neighbor died and her funeral was this morning. I was glad I went as her daughters seemed genuinely glad to see me. My neighbor was a sweet woman and we talked fairly often when we would see one another in the yard. I knew her and her kids and some of her grandkids and, of course her dog Critter, and when not talking about her family or mine we would sometimes talk about church or even something about God but I do not remember ever having a conversation with the name of Jesus in it.
My neighbor's funeral was very well-done with everything one would expect to have including the beautiful flowers, friends, family and, of course, a preacher with good hair and a big Bible. I was impressed with how well the preacher did considering he said he did not know her and had only talked to the family for a while yesterday. He spent a good two minutes talking about how loved my neighbor was and how everyone loved her pecan pie. He said she was a Christian and enjoyed knitting. He then went on to talk about the love of Jesus and even shared the good news about the life, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ and he did it smoothly, eloquently and truthfully. I was impressed and puzzled.
I was puzzled because after being around that family infrequently for years I am quite sure I never heard the name of Jesus nor heard them talk of church, God, or much of anything without a curse word in the sentence. Does that make them bad people? Definitely not. I enjoyed being around them and will miss my neighbor and her family when they visited. I could not help but wonder, though, why only at funerals and weddings is the name of Jesus spoken by most people. The preacher spoke of my neighbor and then he spoke about Jesus. He did not speak of what my neighbor said or thought about Jesus and that may be difficult for anybody but it made me wonder about what would be said at my funeral.
Will anyone even know I knew Jesus? Would there be someone there who would find it hard to believe I called Jesus my Savior or would His name and my name be interlinked so often and the people there so convinced that it would not take anyone by surprise? I have to insist that it be the latter. In fact, while I know I chicken out at many opportunities to share the Gospel, I have to refuse from now on to let anyone I meet for any length of time get away without me saying at least a word about what Jesus has done and continues to do in my life. Yes, it sounds kind of freaky and it is intimidating some times but I have serious regrets about the people, including my neighbor, who have left and I have not said one word about the peace and joy in this life and the future I have in Heaven. My sister says that she wants her funeral to be a party where we wear shorts and eat pizza! I love that idea and I think Jesus would approve! How about you?
1 comment:
Todd, while the normal course of events would require me to write some silly comment about your latest bloggery, this is not one of those. I believe I shared with you a couple of years ago the notion that my pastor called "Andrew's Lists", lists of people in one's life who have helped deepen their spiritual bond and kept them strong in the walk.
You, my friend, are at or near the top of my Andrew's List, for your embodiment of the sometimes cliched axiom "Real Men Love Jesus". You and I may not agree on every topic, but there is no question in my mind about your commitment to your faith. Not just in your words, but in your deeds, in your everyday life. Your witnessing or testimony has blessed me, and many others I'm sure, beyond measure.
When the time comes, and I hope it's a long ways off, the celebrants at your memorial service will never doubt that not only did you know the Lord Jesus Christ, but that you humbly, enthusiastically, and cheerfully did His work.
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