I missed a funeral today. It was for someone I did not know well but whose presence I always enjoyed, and who -- because we are both skydivers -- I counted as part of my extended family. I didn't go to the wake service, either. It is not that I did not care; I truly grieved the loss. But there was work to do in a place where I would be one of only a few, and there were surely many mourners. So, just as I had whispered private, tearful prayers for God to receive my friend at the time of his transition, I whispered private, funereal prayers of goodbye and turned my car toward the place where I was expected for a meeting.
The Gospel of Luke tells a story which in some Bibles is labeled, "The Cost of Following Jesus." The story goes like this:
As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He said to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”
This text is one of the assigned lectionary readings for one of the Sundays of the three year cycle, so I know I have preached it before. I cannot recall what exactly I said, but I may have talked about the call to follow Jesus being a call to sacrifice and service rather than wealth and privilege. I may have talked about the call to follow Jesus being a call away from persuing life's creature comforts. I may have talked about the decision to follow Jesus being a decision to adhere to a disciplined life of prayer and mission and ministry for the sake of the world to which God has sent Jesus' followers. Whatever my focus when I presumed to preach, I doubt very much that I unpacked the package of this text with the poignancy of choosing the work of ministry over a friend's funeral in mind.
Still, I did my duty. I went on. I did not look back at where I might prefer to be or the people I might prefer to be with; I kept my furrow straight. At first, the heaviness of something very much like mourning lingered with me as I did what needed doing. Colleagues asked how I was and I said I was tired, but I had slept deeply and long last night and knew it was not tiredness I felt. Thankfully, I found that with each routine action, each expressed opinion, each decision in which I participated, each silly joke I giggled at, the burden lifted a little more. Each element of the day drew me deeper into the embrace of my other family -- my faith family. Thanks be to God for being merciful to me...
As I write this, I am by myself in the house. Fred is out doing HIS duty. Members of my sky family are wherever they may be; members of my faith family are wherever they may be. The silence is ringing in my ears. But God is here.
As ever, that means that all is well.
The Gospel of Luke tells a story which in some Bibles is labeled, "The Cost of Following Jesus." The story goes like this:
As they were walking along the road, a man said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” Jesus replied, “Foxes have dens and birds have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” He said to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, “Lord, first let me go and bury my father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”
This text is one of the assigned lectionary readings for one of the Sundays of the three year cycle, so I know I have preached it before. I cannot recall what exactly I said, but I may have talked about the call to follow Jesus being a call to sacrifice and service rather than wealth and privilege. I may have talked about the call to follow Jesus being a call away from persuing life's creature comforts. I may have talked about the decision to follow Jesus being a decision to adhere to a disciplined life of prayer and mission and ministry for the sake of the world to which God has sent Jesus' followers. Whatever my focus when I presumed to preach, I doubt very much that I unpacked the package of this text with the poignancy of choosing the work of ministry over a friend's funeral in mind.
Still, I did my duty. I went on. I did not look back at where I might prefer to be or the people I might prefer to be with; I kept my furrow straight. At first, the heaviness of something very much like mourning lingered with me as I did what needed doing. Colleagues asked how I was and I said I was tired, but I had slept deeply and long last night and knew it was not tiredness I felt. Thankfully, I found that with each routine action, each expressed opinion, each decision in which I participated, each silly joke I giggled at, the burden lifted a little more. Each element of the day drew me deeper into the embrace of my other family -- my faith family. Thanks be to God for being merciful to me...
As I write this, I am by myself in the house. Fred is out doing HIS duty. Members of my sky family are wherever they may be; members of my faith family are wherever they may be. The silence is ringing in my ears. But God is here.
As ever, that means that all is well.
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