Cradle to Grave

I don't know if there's a point to this, but I had a strange day.

This morning I conducted the funeral of my friend Sydney's father. This was the first funeral where I did everything- from conducting the message, all the way to the grave side. His name was Murray. It was tough because I only met Murray one time. It was a year ago while he was in a nursing home, just a shadow of his former vigorous self. I think I did as well as I possibly could.

Not to get too morbid here, but have you thought much about your funeral? What music you want included or what Scriptures you want read? Twist your mind around this thought: maybe the people who will be most important to you at the time of your death are strangers to you today [maybe they're not even born yet]. And how weird is it that someone that you don't even know could end up doing your funeral? I had nothing to go on in preparation; just a few stories from family members. Sydney's dad was actually born Jewish, so he might have always thought that a rabbi would've conducted the ceremony. Yet there I was, a Gentile, reflecting on the life of a person that I didn't even know.

There are many benefits to being in the ministry. You get to see people through the most important events of their lives. Sometimes you know them, sometimes you don't. But you're there.