A Pilgrim Funeral

I have been a congregationalist since 1989, which makes sense, I guess, as I pastor South Congregational Church. The Pilgrims who came to Plymouth in 1620. You know, the first Thanksgiving Pilgrims. They were Congregationalists too. We practice a pretty “normal” Christian faith. I believe in the Father, Son, Holy Spirit, and that the Bible is true. I believe humankind is sinful by nature. That Heaven, Hell, and Satan literally exist, and that salvation is given to us not through works but by God’s grace alone. Our Sunday worship would look very familiar to you, as would weddings, baptisms, and funerals.

Interestingly enough, what I do for a funeral service today, would be unfamiliar to pilgrims like William Brewster or Priscilla Mullins. Funerals were exceedingly simple during the first few years after the Pilgrims’ arrival in North America. There were no unique funeral rites. Normally at burials, nothing was read, nor any funeral sermon given. The community would just come together by tolling of the bell, carry the dead solemnly to the grave, and then stand by while the grave was filled back in. The ministers were most commonly just present. In fact, families or small communities often shared the same grave.

When a “pilgrim” died away from home, the burial took place wherever the death occurred. They would dig a shallow grave for the remains and then place a large flat stone on top to keep the site from being disturbed by wild animals. This stone, by the way, was called the “wolf stone.”  

I mention all this funeral talk because I officiated two funerals this past week. One in Pennsylvania, and the other here locally.

Sadly, in my twenty-four years of pastoral ministry, it seems to me the sacredness of a man and a woman becoming one before God has faded quite a bit. Most weddings nowadays have become all about the “show.” The flowers, the dress, the reception, or what we can do that might go viral on YouTube. I actually “enjoy” funerals. Please do not misunderstand. Maybe “enjoy” is not the right word. Perhaps appreciate is better.

At a funeral, people are not thinking about the reception. They are reflecting on the loved one they have lost, and perhaps even their own mortality. Even better, maybe they are considering what their eternity might be. That’s what I appreciate. Funerals make one think about what comes next. That’s why I always share the gospel at a funeral. Just to let people know. This person is in heaven, not because of any of the wonderful things you have heard that they did, but because of the one wonderful thing that Jesus did on the cross. Their faith in Christ led to their salvation, and that is why we can be sure of where they are now.

Everyone, much to the surprise of many, does not go to heaven. Only those who believe in Jesus do. After all, Jesus Himself said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one can come to the Father, except through me.” All faiths do not lead to salvation. All roads do not go to heaven – only one – Jesus. “No one can come to the Father, except through [Him].” 

Truth is, not even all those who proclaim to be Christian will get there. Jesus also said in the Sermon on the Mount, “Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter. On judgment day many will say to me, ‘Lord! Lord! We prophesied in your name and cast out demons in your name and performed many miracles in your name.’ But I will reply, ‘I never knew you. Get away from me, you who break God’s laws’” (Matthew 7:21-23). Talk is cheap. Actions are what matter. Am I truly a Christian? Has my heart been transformed? Can you find any evidence to support my claim of being a Christian?

Today at funerals, we are not silent. We talk about our loved one. The life they lived. How they blessed ours. It is a sacred time when we get to remember someone special, and maybe even ponder, “What will my future be?” Will Jesus say, “[Welcome!] Well done good and faithful servant” (Matthew 25:23), or “I never knew you.” 

You see? Funerals make one think, and I do enjoy that.  

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