Pensees: Grandpa’s Funeral

Grandpa’s Funeral

My brother, Pastor Tim Bixby ministering to Grandpa in this picture, will officiate the funeral for his beloved grandfather.

The hospice says it will be any time now. They are usually pretty good at making these calls. It’s inevitable, so I’ve got to decide if I should go to the funeral or not. It’s actually a no-brainer for me, but I know that many people ask themselves why they should bother going to a funeral when the deceased is not going to know or care anyway. I have some random thoughts on the subject.

Let’s be frank: Funerals are disruptive. They are costly. Just traveling to one can cost an arm and a leg. They are never convenient, and the wreak havoc with the schedule. If that weren’t it, they can sometimes be stressful, emotional, and confusing. The axioms of funeral etiquette are an area that we are too often unfamiliar with, but the most basic of them all, in most cases, is showing up.

As a pastor, I have heard all kinds of rationale for not attending the funeral of a loved one, so I am here offering reasons why you should attend. The most common excuse of all is that the deceased, being dead, won’t be negatively affected by one’s absence. I would suggest, however, that while it is true that the deceased is probably unaware of who misses his or her funeral, the funeral is not for the deceased. It is a God-given, pre-ordained moment for the surviving friends and family. May I suggest a few reasons? (I hope some of my Grandpa’s family read this.)

First, a funeral is a providentially provided opportunity for reunion with the past. The funeral brings back memories; some bitter, some sweet. But it is a wise person that will courageously gaze meditatively on the past, whether it appears lovely or forgettable. The obligation to recall the past is a blessing either way to the sincere Christian.

It may be a bitter pill that forces us to bring to the forefront of our minds things that we have long suppressed, a God-given potion that extracts the covered-over and forgotten sins, or the unresolved family tensions and the reluctance of our own soul to forgive, a damning evidence of our own unregenerate condition or rebellious waywardness. Forgiveness is the hallmark of true faith and conversion. The non-forgiver has little hope of heaven. And sometimes the funeral brings these sobering truths to mind. The funeral sometimes so overwhelms a soul with his own inability, his own anger, his own pride, and his own conflict that often a person will avoid the funeral, less because of the deceased or others that will be there and what they have done to him (although this is the pretext), but more because he will be brought face to face with the stark reality of his own embittered spirit, an unbearable reality check. The mature person, however, will receive the bitter pill as from the hand of the Father and swallow.

If the funeral is a bitter pill, pray for grace. God loves to give grace and mercy in the hour of need and He promises to provide it to the humble. Maybe the deceased has hurt you or offended you. If so, your appearance at his or her funeral may become your moment of forgiveness. Plead with God for grace to overcome your bitterness and honor the deceased. As a pastor I have conducted several funerals of parents with wayward children and I have noticed that the rebellious and embittered children took the death of the parent the hardest, often weeping uncontrollably while those children who had a loving and reconciled relationship with the deceased enjoyed greater peace. Sometimes the wayward child (or embittered soul) would have to “work” or be hindered by some other “urgent” business just to avoid the discomfort of the funeral.

Often the deceased is not the problem. It’s all the survivors that will be there! The funeral doesn’t have to become the place for confrontation, negotiations, and long conversations. But the wise person will receive the funeral and the necessary reunion with people from the past with whom there has been a chilled entente as a providentially delivered moment in time where the Father of Love has forced us to recall to the front of our thinking the Christian duty to pursue peace with all men. And, while you may not (and probably shouldn’t) deal with past issues at the funeral, you will be relieved to know that it is possible to be in the same room together once again. The funeral has often become the first of many small steps to bringing a family back together again. Do your part. Show up.

Reflecting on the sweetness of the past is also necessary to a spiritual development. The very reason we even are pondering whether we should attend a funeral or not is because of the involvement the deceased has had in our lives. God has interrupted our schedules and called a halt to our routine as if to say, “Now is a time to rejoice in all that I have done for you in times past through this person. Please me by pausing your life just long enough to give thanks.” The funeral is a providentially provided opportunity for reunion with the past.

Secondly, the funeral is an opportunity to honor. This is especially important when the individual is a parent or grandparent. Even the world views the funeral as a time to honor. My grandfather retired from the military as a Lt. Col., having served in three wars, a decorated soldier. He will get military honor, a soldier’s funeral. He should. But he should also get family honor. The Scriptures command us to honor our father and mother. This is not for the sake of father and mother, but for the glorifying of God who designed father and mother specifically for us. Father may have been a scoundrel, Mother may have been negligent, but honor is still due. In my case, I will attend the funeral to honor my mother. It’s her father who is dying. He invested in her. He reared her. He took her to church. She has honored him, and I honor her honor. We should do everything we can do to pack up the kids, roll up the sleeping bags, and reschedule the vacation to honor a parent or grandparent. As I have already said, it is not always because the individual is worthy of the honor, but it is because we are committed to honoring God by paying respects to the instruments of nurture and admonition that He placed in our lives. The funeral is a time to honor.

Thirdly, the funeral is an opportunity to ponder long and hard on the life here-after. When a loved one dies, life stops for all his friends and family. The routine is broken. Every other project fades into the background. Every one is focused on the funeral and the activities that surround it. Our earthly life needs disruption. We need to have our thoughts arrested by the reality of another sphere, another life, another accounting. One day we will have our earthly life finally disrupted by our own death. And after death comes the judgment. We do well to take seriously the death of a loved one as the God-given reminder to those of us who remain that we too will die. We will give an account for our life here. The funeral is an opportunity for us to ponder long and hard about our life in the here-after.

Fourthly, when the deceased is a believer, the funeral is an opportunity to enter into the joy of the Lord. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15). It doesn’t matter how unsaintly a saint may have been, when she dies justified by faith, she is a trophy of God’s grace. And He delights in the finishing touches of His masterpiece. The death of the justified sinner/saint is the ultimate liberation of the soul from the effects of the curse and the ultimate victory of grace over sin.

We will sorrow. And we should. But our sorrow is so unique, so different. Our tears are like the tears of a daddy watching his daughter wed to her beau. There is a mixture of sadness in his joy. He is sad because he will no longer be the first focus in her life, and he remembers his many years as the strong man in her world. He is bidding adieu to an era even as he rejoices in the enraptured delight of his daughter as she beams in unrestrained joy in the arms of her first love. Dad realizes now that it was he who was the blessed man to be a part of her world as he prepared her for her highest dream, her ultimate purpose: another man. He was never destined to be the first one in her world. He would fade away in the glory of his little girl’s new love. He could never call her back. He never would. Even so, when a loved one goes to Jesus, the Lord, we shed tears. But our tears are not because we want our loved one back. The deceased believer has attained his ultimate desire, his ultimate purpose. We shed tears at the parting because we too realize that we are the ones who have been blessed to be a part of his world. But we were never meant to be his first love, his ultimate purpose. And we too can only imagine with the imagination of faith the radiant joy that must throb in the soul of our justified loved one who is looking upon the Lamb, even as He is, without sin and without sorrow. We rejoice through our tears even as we fade away in the glory of our loved one’s Savior. We could never call him back. We never would. For not only is he rejoicing, God is. The funeral, then, is also an opportunity to enter into the joy of the Lord.

That’s why (Lord willing) I’m going.