I came across this article today and I feel a real need to post it for you. As a pastor I have been noticing a growing trend. People who have passed away have been more and more leaving instructions for their family not to hold a funeral for them. I have been personally disturbed by this trend. Funerals are not really for the person who has died. They are for the grieving family that is left behind. When I read this article today, I found someone who had captured my concerns. Please enjoy.
My Funeral is Back On By Stan Gale
I’ve heard pastors say that if people really knew what was in their hearts, they would not want them as their pastor. I can attest that pastors sin with the best of them. Lust and greed and envy and all sorts of sin roam dangerously in their hearts.
Pastors don’t minister on the basis of a sinless self. They minister on the basis of a sinless Christ. The concept of the book, When Sinners Say “I Do,” applies to the pastor-sheep relationship as well, a sinner among sinners.
I am painfully aware of the inclinations of my heart. I know how the word of God I preach has beamed a spotlight into my soul, exposing my sin, making me wonder, who am I to be calling others to account? Paul writes my biography in Romans 7. I find great solace in his summation: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:24–25)
For reason of sin, I wanted no funeral. I didn’t want people standing up to testify to what a great guy Stan was. “He served Christ so faithfully, for so many years.” “What an example of a godly man!” If only they knew. If they saw the laziness and self-centeredness and waywardness and mixed motives and mean-spirited thoughts, their accolades would be silenced.
I didn’t want hagiography. I didn’t want people testifying to a man they thought they knew, extolling virtues that would be dwarfed by vices. Not having a funeral would avoid a sideshow.
But I have changed my mind—for two reasons. One, a friend died. The family decided not to have a funeral, nothing to acknowledge him or his death. At first I took it in stride, but then it occurred to me that something was not right with that. In not acknowledging his death, they did not acknowledge his life. It was like the life that God had given him, with its achievements and relationships and journey, never happened. But it did, and it should have been celebrated to recognize the life God had given him from his mother’s womb and the days He had ordained for him. Grief would have been creased with a smile. Emptiness filled with substance.
A funeral celebrates the life of an image-bearer of God. It declares death to be an enemy, evil that splits apart families and cuts deep in hearts. I would be short-changing the gift of life and living that God gave me were I not to have a funeral.
Read the Rest of the article HERE.
My Funeral is Back On By Stan Gale
I’ve heard pastors say that if people really knew what was in their hearts, they would not want them as their pastor. I can attest that pastors sin with the best of them. Lust and greed and envy and all sorts of sin roam dangerously in their hearts.
Pastors don’t minister on the basis of a sinless self. They minister on the basis of a sinless Christ. The concept of the book, When Sinners Say “I Do,” applies to the pastor-sheep relationship as well, a sinner among sinners.
I am painfully aware of the inclinations of my heart. I know how the word of God I preach has beamed a spotlight into my soul, exposing my sin, making me wonder, who am I to be calling others to account? Paul writes my biography in Romans 7. I find great solace in his summation: “Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:24–25)
For reason of sin, I wanted no funeral. I didn’t want people standing up to testify to what a great guy Stan was. “He served Christ so faithfully, for so many years.” “What an example of a godly man!” If only they knew. If they saw the laziness and self-centeredness and waywardness and mixed motives and mean-spirited thoughts, their accolades would be silenced.
I didn’t want hagiography. I didn’t want people testifying to a man they thought they knew, extolling virtues that would be dwarfed by vices. Not having a funeral would avoid a sideshow.
But I have changed my mind—for two reasons. One, a friend died. The family decided not to have a funeral, nothing to acknowledge him or his death. At first I took it in stride, but then it occurred to me that something was not right with that. In not acknowledging his death, they did not acknowledge his life. It was like the life that God had given him, with its achievements and relationships and journey, never happened. But it did, and it should have been celebrated to recognize the life God had given him from his mother’s womb and the days He had ordained for him. Grief would have been creased with a smile. Emptiness filled with substance.
A funeral celebrates the life of an image-bearer of God. It declares death to be an enemy, evil that splits apart families and cuts deep in hearts. I would be short-changing the gift of life and living that God gave me were I not to have a funeral.
Read the Rest of the article HERE.
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