Weeks and even months passed. I thought I was prepared for yesterday. I adjusted work schedules and even said no to hundreds of dollars of work all because of a significant day. We—my wife, two kids, and myself—made a 1300-mile journey to Bettendorf, Iowa. As a youth Iowa held a special place in my heart to a small degree because of family who lived there. The last time I was in Iowa was when I was 14 years old. And here I was decades later with my family arriving in Iowa. We would had loved for this trip to had been a vacation or a pleasurable one.
Very sadly everything led to yesterday—June 27, 2020—when we said our goodbyes to my uncle at his funeral. Having passed away a week before semi-suddenly, preparations and plans swam in my head. And leaving behind is a married daughter, a son, and a wife of 32 years…and they are all I could think about.
Although a Christian and I can work at keeping emotions in check, I was not ready when my daughter and I bravely approached the casket. I didn’t see a man at rest, someone who died in a ripe old age. I saw bruising and a body that, to be completely honest, didn’t even look like him. Truthfully I cried. But I didn’t cry for me as if I am going to miss him (I did and do). I cried because I saw a man who died in pain. Cancer. That word can send shivers and fear in the stoutest of people. And it is what killed my uncle’s body.
“You learn more at a funeral than at a feast—After all, that’s where we’ll end up. We might discover something from it” (Ecclesiastes 7:2, MSG translation). I discovered a number of things. I discovered a man who loved his wife and children very much. I discovered a man who loved God and children very much. I discovered a man who served faithfully in his church. I discovered a man who accomplished a great deal both in academics and in occupation. I discovered a man who attended a church who preached the Word of God similar to what I hear. And I was encouraged with renewed belief that my uncle is there with His Savior walking the streets of heaven with his hard, bare feet (inside story about that).
And then the Holy Spirit began to deal with my heart before the service began…so much so that I feverishly began to jot down notes as to not forget what God would like to say. One of the things that was gripped upon my heart while gazing upon my uncle (perhaps my favorite one) is how ridiculous and petty we are about the many things we argue or stress over. I am not saying that we should not take a biblical stand (notice I didn’t say a moral stand) concerning sins and grievances. But how many of us carry grudges, ill feelings, and taking pathetic stands on matters that years, decades, or more so at a funeral and realize how dumb these matters of argument or we were? It is not that I had anything negative about my uncle or his family, but sadly I cannot count the number of comments shared or said within earshot that looking back I can only ask: in the end, was it worth it?
The second thing that also hit me just as equally hard was something Jesus said (in John 9:4), “I must work the works of Him who sent Me while it is day; the night is coming when no one can work.” Often we ascribe that verse to day and night. But Jesus was declaring that time is short—the writer Psalms 39 and 62 (King David) and James (4:14) both declare that our lives is like vapor—and what do we fill our lives with? Is it the pursuit of money? Is it the pursuit of fame? Is it the pursuit of book deals, movie contracts, albums recorded, and the like? Is it a celebrity position due to sports? Is it ministry…but rather than building His name we are busy building our name?
This morning Judy and I went with my Aunt Brenda and her family to the cemetery. What I noticed completely caught me off. A fresh mound of dirt reflects my uncle of 55 years. I could not help but notice how small the hole was. Now this is in no reflection of my uncle. But all of our pursuits of cars, name, remembrance, etc. and all there is is a 6 foot hole. 2 Corinthians 11 shares Paul’s sufferings with a single purpose found in verse 28, “…what comes upon me daily: my deep concern for all the churches.” When my family and I looked around and entered and exited the sanctuary of the service yesterday, I didn’t see an empty room. And I didn’t see people with a list of grievances and self-confidence in their own affairs of life. I saw a room of people—the pastor included—whose lives were touched by a man who had a deep concern for the things of God. Jesus said (John 12:24), “Most assuredly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it produces much grain.” Lives were touched by his life while alive. And I believe the Spirit of God dealt with lives at my uncle’s funeral. And I believe there will continue to be a legacy of lives touched because of the foundation laid by my uncle (and his wife).
So my final questions I would like to pose to ourselves are do we have a deep concern for His bride? Do we have a deep concern for the lost? Do we have a deep concern for the youth who may only know of Jesus Christ by our example? Will we die as seed as well?