I attended a funeral today that made me proud to be a pastor. The granddaughter of one of my parishioners was killed in a terrible accident, and this morning I went to her funeral. Funerals for children are incredibly difficult, but the pastors of this church did a masterful job. Their service was personal, hopeful, soulful, and even at times humorous. We mourned together -- deeply -- but we also left with a sense of quiet joy and hope for the future.
Few things disappoint me more than going to a poorly performed funeral. Instead of taking the opportunity to minister to the hurting family, too many pastors go through the motions, read their service books, and give too-long dry sermons that may declare some correct theology but fail to embody the gospel.
The pastor who learns to perform sincere, simple, and grace-filled funerals will build incredible "capital" and loyalty among his people that will -- over the years -- carry him through a host of potentially difficult situations. I was so honored several years ago when one of our senior members told me that I had to stay at the church long enough to do her funeral. I told her that, God willing, I would; and just a few months ago I had the privilege of keeping that promise.
The hardest part of being in the same church for a long time, however, is that I no longer bury my members, I bury my friends!
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