Over the past ten days (as I write), our church’s last enemy—death—has brought its sorrow-bearing presence deep into our congregation (1 Corinthians 15:26). On 20 May, Derrick Botha died; on 21 May, Ettiene O’Donovan died; and on 28 May, Alan Bennett’s mother died. There has been a lot of tears, two funerals, and a void left that cries to be filled. But amid the grief is the sorrow-tempering knowledge that all three individuals died as Christians. They belonged to Christ, which means they belong to Christ and will one day rise again to everlasting life (John 11:25–26). The funeral/memorial services we have had have been Christian. Derrick and Ettiene lived as Christians and died as Christians. Because they lived in Christ they therefore died in Christ and one day they will rise from their graves through Christ (1 Corinthians 15:20). Therefore, it was entirely appropriate, and a privilege, for our church to host their memorial services. In death, as in life, these two brothers reflected that they were Christians. Their memorial services were consistent with their confession of faith. Thanks be to God.
When planning a funeral service for believers, there is a sense of celebration mixed with sorrow. The knowledge that the person believed the gospel that Jesus Christ died for their sins and rose from the dead for their justification (Romans 4:25) tempers the grief and provides a segue for joy as eulogies are written, songs are planned, and messages prepared. The funerals of those who die in Christ send a consistent message that that they have died like they lived: as Christians. But sadly, sometimes “religious” funerals send a message of confusion rather than of true Christian comfort.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones, one-time pastor of Westminster Chapel in London, once quipped in a sermon, “If you spend your Sundays on the golf course, ask the clubhouse to do your service when you die.” That might sound harsh, but he was making an important theological and pastoral point: Die like you live. If someone marginalises the Lord Jesus Christ and his church during life, they should be consistent when they die. If they lived without an obvious saving relationship with Jesus Christ, then having a funeral service conducted by a pastor in a church building, which includes the hymn “Amazing Grace,” does not a Christian make. Often well-meaning believing loved ones can promote this confusion by asking the church of which they are a member to host the funeral of a family member they knew was an unbeliever.
My point is that, like weddings, funerals should reflect the integrity of the gospel, like those we had this week. The eulogies were honest, the hymns were congruent with the lives of those we honoured, the gospel hope was legitimate, and our great God therefore was honoured and glorified.
As difficult as it can be to prepare and preach a funeral service for a beloved Christian, it is exponentially easier than preparing to preach the funeral of someone who was clearly not a Christian, despite sentimental platitudes to the contrary. For which, by the way, funeral parlours are notorious.
When people speak of those who have died as “playing golf in heaven” or “having a beer with their friends” or “helping God to run things” or “becoming an angel,” I inwardly grieve while metaphorically rolling my eyes as I think, “They just don’t get it.” And then I try to preach in such a way that they will get it.
I have wanted to write this article for a long time and, with the events of this past week, it seems that this is the time to do so because those whom we honoured died precisely like they lived—as Christians—for which we praise and glorify God. But the question I want to put to you is, how will you die? If you are in Christ Jesus, if you have been born again and thus trust Jesus as your Lord and Saviour, then live in such a way that no one will be confused at your funeral. May those who attend be able to say, “Indeed, they died as they lived.”
Grieved, yet hopeful, because of the grace of God,
Doug