On July 25, I read Scripture and prayed at the funeral of my Uncle Joe. Joseph Gates was just a couple years older than my dad, which made him the third youngest of seven children, and the first of his generation to pass away. I’ve said goodbye to uncles, grandparents and friends, many of whom died much younger than Joe, he of a mere 62 years.
As a pastor, I spend more time than the average person sitting with people in the face of death. Death is that great curse, that scourge that we all face whether or not we really reckon with it. Some make peace with that reality surprisingly easily, and some really never do. Any time people gather around someone’s death, it can be upsetting, hopeful, contentious, surprising, tense, healing, or a combination.
But I attended Uncle Joe’s funeral not primarily as pastor, but as grieving nephew, son and cousin. As I listened to my dad pour out his heart in gratitude for the life of his beloved brother, I was deeply moved. As I spoke words of comfort from Psalm 46, I also needed to hear that “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress,” and as my Aunt Collette wished Joe peace, I felt that peace myself.
Marcie and I had decided to bring Addison, our oldest, out to Rockford for the funeral and leave the boys at home. So in the car for the five hour drive, it was just the three of us, as it had been on so many drives to visit family before the boys were born. Only now, Addison, nearly six years old, was older, wiser, and more insightful. Poised at the precipice of first grade, she offered this reflection, without prompting.
“You know, it’s sad that Uncle Joe died, but it’s also kind of happy.”
“Why’s that, Addie?” I inquired.
“Well, it’s sad, because we’ll miss him, but it’s happy because he’s in heaven with Jesus.”
Whenever I speak at a funeral, I proclaim the truth that because of the resurrection of Christ, “death does not win.” It is only after much nuanced theological discussion and contextual reflection that I am courageous enough to lay out this central tension, and then not so plainly and efficiently as my first grade daughter.
I don’t deny that the nuance and context are important. I don’t believe her childlike clarity counts my daughter more qualified than me to officiate funerals. But I thank God for the trust, love, and generosity that flow from her heart. They are Grace, which not coincidentally is Addison’s middle name.
54 When the perishable has been clothed with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality, then the saying that is written will come true: “Death has been swallowed up in victory.”
55 “Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?”—1 Corinthians 15:54-55
The In(tension)al Life 