Memorial

I was secretly hoping I could be a pastor without ever having to do a funeral or memorial service. I’m an emotional person - the kind that mimics people’s facial expressions when they tell riveting stories - and the thought of having to do a service under such sad circumstances kind of freaked me out a bit. I’d always imagined myself sobbing uncontrollably behind the pulpit, as surviving family members comfort ME.

But earlier this week I was asked to do a memorial service for the daughter of a young couple who I met a little more than two months ago in the hospital, when I went to pray for their newborn baby. She had complications during birth and was, at that time, fighting for her life. Earlier this week the baby went home to be with Jesus. The church they reached out to had a fee they could not afford, so they remembered me and my visit with them in the ICU. (Fees for funerals? Maybe that’s the standard practice, but the thought of billing grieving family makes my stomach churn. Can’t do it.)

It was hard. Unannounced punch-in-the-gut hard. My heart broke for them when I learned the tragic news. Here they were planning to raise a family, and their dreams turned to a nightmare overnight.

I never liked thinking about having to someday do a funeral, and I certainly never imagined my first memorial service would be for a beautiful ten-week-old baby girl. But today I was blown away by the strength I saw in this young couple as they were surrounded by their friends and family. In a jammed-packed, people-standing-in-the hallways memorial service, I was able to be a part of their healing process. What an honor. The outpouring of love and support I saw there was amazing to witness. And today, I felt a part of their community. I felt like a friend, a family member even.

***

Turning away from people during their times of pain may seem like the safe route. It’s a lot more comfortable. But turning toward people in their time of pain and being fully present with them in the moment brings a deep sense of fulfillment. Don’t get me wrong, today was very sad. But in one of the many paradoxes of life, it made me very glad that I got to be a part of people surrounding one another and hurting while others hurt, and comforting each other. To give them beauty for ashes. This is what the prophet Isaiah spoke of in regards to Jesus. Today, I got to witness Jesus in the midst of a loving assembly doing just that.

Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. - Romans 12:15

[I want to thank my father-in-law for taking the time to help me think through the message. Thanks Tim.]