“Three Ruined Funerals and a
No-Show”
In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy
Spirit. Amen. Next year I will observe the 30th anniversary of my ordination, 30
years in the pastoral ministry. Going back over my records recently, it’s
surprised me that during those three decades I have conducted about 200
funerals. The first funeral I conducted was while I was still a seminary
student, during my vicarage, or pastoral internship. I was nervous because
I was being evaluated on my performance by my vicarage supervisor. The Gospels record that during the three years of his earthly ministry,
Rabbi Jesus was involved with four funerals. But, he didn’t do things by
the book, and if Jesus had been a student rabbi, he probably would have failed
the unit on funerals. Three funerals he attended, and he ruined every one
of them. The fourth funeral he was supposed to be involved with, he didn’t
even show up as expected. The first funeral Jesus ruined was of a young man at the town of Nain.
Jesus wasn’t even invited to this funeral, but he butted in anyway, and ruined
it. “Jesus went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd
went along with him. As he approached the town gate, a dead person was
being carried out—the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large
crowd from the town was with her. When the Lord saw her, his heart went
out to her and he said, ‘Don’t cry.’ Then he went up and touched the
coffin, and those carrying it stood still. He said, ‘Young man, I say to you,
get up!’ The dead man sat up and began to talk, and Jesus gave him back to
his mother.” The next funeral Jesus ruined was of the daughter of a man named Jairus.
At least he was invited to this funeral. “One of the synagogue rulers,
named Jairus fell at Jesus’ feet and pleaded with him, ‘My little daughter is
dying. Please come and put your hands on her so that she will be healed and
live.’ But some men came from the house of Jairus, ‘Your daughter is
dead,’ they said. ‘Why bother the rabbi anymore?’ Ignoring what they said,
Jesus told the synagogue ruler, ‘Don’t be afraid; just believe.’ When they
came to the home of the synagogue ruler, Jesus saw a commotion, with people
crying and wailing loudly and morning for her. ‘Stop wailing,’ Jesus said.
‘The child is not dead but asleep.’ But they laughed at him.” I worked as an archeologist excavating tombs only about 20 miles from
where this funeral of Jairus’ daughter took place. One of the tombs, from
before the Christian era, was of a little girl about Jairus’ daughter’s age.
On the tomb was a heart-wrenching inscription: “Flora, Lived Eleven Years, 3
Months, 9 Days; She Is Gone Forever.” The mourners at Jairus’ house know THAT’S what a proper funeral is
supposed to be like, hopeless gloom and sadness: “She Is Gone Forever.”
But, then this rabbi interrupts and says, “Stop wailing; the child is not dead
but asleep.” What kind of rabbi is this? Doesn’t he even know how to
properly conduct a funeral? It’s so outlandish they laugh at him. “But after the crowd had been put outside, he went in and took the girl
by the hand and said to her, ‘My child, arise.’ Then her spirit returned
and immediately the girl got up.” The next funeral Jesus ruined was of Lazarus. Even though Lazarus
and his sisters Mary and Martha were some of Jesus’ closest friends, he arrives
for Lazarus’ funeral four days late. Fortunately, the mourners are still
there, and at first Jesus seems to be a little more traditional in his approach
at this funeral. John reports he was “deeply moved” as he goes and stands before
the tomb, and we are told simply, “Jesus wept.” Finally, a funeral that’s
going the way a funeral should. But, then this unconventional rabbi once again makes everything
topsy-turvy, with a strange request: “He came to the tomb, a cave with a stone
laid across the entrance. ‘Take away the stone,’ he said.” First, he
arrives late, and then he wants them to open the tomb? “But, Lord,” Martha
said, “by this time there is a bad odor, for he has been there four days.” “‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, even
though he dies, yet shall he live.’ So they took away the stone.
Then Jesus called in a loud voice, ‘Lazarus, come out!’ And the dead man came
out.” Another funeral ruined by Rabbi Jesus. And the last funeral recorded in the Gospels that Jesus was supposed to
be involved with, he didn’t even show up, at least not in the way expected.
“Very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went
to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. On their way to the tomb they asked
each other, “Who will roll the stone away for us from the entrance of the tomb?”
But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had
already been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man
dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were afraid. “Do not
be afraid,” he said to them. “You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified.
He is risen! He is not here.” This time, he was supposed to be the guest of honor, but Jesus ruined
his own funeral by not even showing up. “Because I live,” Jesus says, “you also will live.” If a funeral is
supposed to be only hopeless gloom, then Jesus wants to ruin your funeral too.
“For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him
shall have eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” Although a funeral certainly is still a time of sadness, just as Jesus
himself wept at the grave of his friend Lazarus, Easter means that your funeral
can also be a time of hope. For, just as Jesus raised from the dead the young
man at Nain, and Jairus’ daughter, and Lazarus, just as he rose on Easter morn,
he promises you, “Even though you die, yet you shall live. For I will
raise you up at the last day.” Return to Top | Return to Sermons | Home | Email Church Office
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