Your Own Funeral
Introduction:
This message is a little different from anything I have ever done, but in order to do it I am going to need everybody’s help. Don’t worry it won’t be too hard. I am going to ask that you listen closely. I am also going to ask that you bow your head, close your eyes if you want. I know that sounds great doesn’t it? But please stay awake. I want you to listen with me, play along with me. I need you all to use your imagination.
Imagine with me that you are sitting here at church, but this time you are not gathered for the Lord’s Day assembly, this time you are gathered for a funeral. Do you see it? Can you picture what it looks like? You sit looking on and taking everything in. Perhaps you see crying, grieving, maybe some shedding of tears, maybe even some laughing as people share memories of the deceased. You know many of the people gathered together in memory of this person, so you make your way in and find a place to sit. The pews are packed full of people. Finally, people slowly take their seats and the funeral begins. You look and there realize something very strange and very staggering, the funeral is for you. What would the scene be like at your own funeral? Would there be family grieving? Would there be positive memories shared?
Keep on imagining with me. The Preacher of the funeral begins his message and tries the very best he can to paint a message of hope and a positive message about your life. He tells some stories of your life, he shares some memories, and then speaks of your spiritual condition. He quotes the passage in the Scriptures where it says, “it is appointed for a man once to die and then to face the judgment.” He points out the Biblical truth that as you died your spirit separated from your body and your faith was now made sight. All the doubts that you had, all the questions, all that you lived for, nothing else mattered. You sit there wondering why he wasn’t saying more good about you. You think back to other funeral you attended and the same preacher went on and on about how so and so was a faithful church member, how they were servants, how they were people of character and integrity, and then you realize that maybe there was not that much to say. You want to stand up and shout, “I wasn’t that bad of a person”! “I came to church!” However, the message continues and finally draws to an end. A time was even given for eulogies and a few friends and family got up and reminisced a little about your life and events you shared with them. They spoke of your great personality and how fun you were to be around. You notice that the things people were saying about you were meant to be complimentary, but now after life was over they didn’t matter all that much. People spoke of how hard of a worker you were, of the talents that you had, but you noticed not one comment about your faith, not one comment about your character, not one comment about being a good spouse or parent. All your life you strive so hard to impress people, all your life you thought you wanted people to just like you. So you would do anything to make a friend, and make friends you did. You thought it was vitally important to be good at everything, you wanted people to think of you as a ’good ole boy’. You wanted people to remember your dedication to work. You never thought though that life would come to an end so quickly. You thought you would have had time later for other things, but the chance never came. At that time your mind is flooded with all sort of thoughts, all sorts of regrets. You realize all that you worked so hard to so now did not matter. You realize you spent far too much time in things that did not matter and far too little time on the things that did really matter. You lamented the times you were too busy at work to see your children grow up. You lamented the times you were too busy just to spend time with your spouse. You lamented the times you were so wrapped up in your recreation that you neglected the church. You wish you would have served more, loved more, studied more, paid more attention, you wish you had given more. Now there was nothing you could do about it. Now all that was gone and quickly you learn as you watch your own funeral what was most important. You learn quickly that if you could have written the script for your own funeral it would have been much different. You did write the script of your own funeral, you wrote it by the life you lived, but you do not like the commentary and wish you could change some things. As the funeral winds down, a prayer is made and the pall bearers go and carry your casket out of the building. The hearse drives to the grave yard and all the time you feel that you are watching from outside all of it. They bring your casket down, read a few passages of Scriptures and have another prayer. Then they begin to lower your casket into the ground and cover it up. For you that is a very sobering scene, because that solidifies the truth that your life is done and that there was no coming back to correct mistakes.
Now go with me to the judgment seat of Christ. I do not know how you have pictured it in your minds, but imagine that scene with me. There you stand. Nobody there at your side. The scene is not quite like anything you have ever seen. You could not with words to describe what you were beholding. The place you stand is bright with light that is different from any light you have seen before. You see a great white throne with someone sitting on the throne. You stand there and you feel totally inadequate, you feel dirty, immoral, for the first time in your life you feel like you are an awful person. You feel alone, and you begin to tremble, your voice begins to quiver. You have this anxiety and fear that words cannot explain because you know the one you look at holds your eternal destiny in their hands and that your judgment was about to be final. You realize all that you lived for, all that you strive for was now totally irrelevant, all that mattered now was what this one sitting upon the throne would say to you about your eternal destiny.At that time your mind is flooded with all sorts of thoughts, all sorts of regrets. You realize that all you labored for so diligently now did not matter. You realize that you spent far too much time on things that did not matter and far too little time on things that did matter. You know who the one you are standing before is, it is none other than the Lord Jesus Christ, but you do not know him, because you never made time to speak to Him. You never made time to learn of Him. You had planned on it some day. You thought you had more time. You thought you would get around to it as you grew older, but the time never came. So you stand before His throne speechless. There at that judgment seat you see your life relived. You see things from a different perspective this time. You see of the times you hurt people, you see how the things you said made other people feel. You see all the wrongs you committed. You see of the times you neglected to do what you should have done. You begin to weep uncontrollably because there more than ever you realize you were not as a good of a person as you thought you were. You realize some things there.
First, you realize that you wish you had been more prepared. As you are asked to give a defense of the life you lived and give an account for yourself you do not have much to say. Your resume is much shorted than you expected. You never really thought this time would come and besides all that you thought that since you were such a good person, standing before God would not be so intimidating, but you were dead wrong and now it was too late and you knew it. You wish you could just go back and have a second chance, but that time is not coming. You were so sure that since you were such a nice guy, that since you went to church on occasion, since you were so popular that God would be impressed with your resume and would be honored to spend eternity with you in Heaven. In fact you never really questioned it. You thought the preacher was just a little over the edge when he spoke of the judgment of God, when he spoke about how it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of a living God. You brushed him off when he spoke of how this life is a time of preparation for the life to come. You got down right mad at him when he confronted you for a lack of faithfulness. You thought he was unfair, idealistic and unreasonable. “But, preacher”, you said “I am a good guy.” You thought you’d be just fine since you didn’t drink, didn’t smoke, didn’t chew and didn’t go with girls who do. You thought the preacher was lying when he spoke of the reality of Hell. And then you become so afraid you began to tremble. You thought back then it was only for ’religious nuts” to live totally committed like he expected. You thought it was ridiculous that expected you to be at church all the time, that he expected you to not do certain things and to be so different from the world. You started to think, what if he was right all along, now it is too late. But now you wish you had been more prepared. The time at the judgment seat seemed to creep by in slow motion, as thoughts kept filling your mind. You start to think, maybe I should have read my Bible, but I didn’t think it was that important, after all it was just another book, you tried to justify. Now you realize it was not just another book. You look around you and you see at the base of the throne a large book opened up. You cannot exactly make out the contents of the book, but you know what it is, it it is the book of Life. You tried to catch a peek to see if your name was there written in it. You looked and there it was, you saw your name there, but wait. You begin to scream, “why is my name marked out of that book?” “Why is my name scratched out?” You didn’t want to hear the answer that came. The answer was because you lost your love for the Lord. You were carried away by the world. You realize maybe you should have spoke up more about your faith. You recall times with friends when they were mocking God and you joined in with them rather than speaking up because you were afraid. You recall times when people needed help that you didn’t. You recall times when you could have told people about God, but didn’t because you didn’t really think it really mattered. All you can think is that you wish you had been more prepared, but you weren’t. The place you found yourself was nothing like you had pictured. I mean you thought many times about life after death, but this was much different than you had been taught or thought. You never expected to be so afraid and feel so helpless.
Second, you realize that you wish you had some help right about now. You realize that things are not looking too good for you. Your case isn’t that convincing. You begin to think, wait a second, ’I am a Christian, I have been baptized, that should be enough.” You are told by the one on the throne that since you never acknowledged Jesus before others, he wasn’t going to acknowledge you now. So you are totally on your own. You never expected this to be the way it was. If you had you would have acted and lived much differently. You wanted for many years for Jesus to be your Savior, but the problem was that you never made Jesus Lord of your life.
The whole time you stand there your mind is filled with, “I wish I would haves” and “I wish I had nots”. Then you have nothing more to say and you know what is coming next. You hear the words you dreaded the whole time, “depart from me you evildoer I never knew you.”
Now, look up, or open your eyes. You realize all that was not real. Have you ever had a bad dream that seemed so real, and then you wake up and are so thankful it was not a reality. Perhaps that is how you feel right now. The reality is that one day those images, those scenes that require our imagination now will be a reality. One day we will stand before the throne of God, but what will the scene be like for you. We write our own script.
I saw a website the other day, titled “create your own funeral”. They had in mind making preparations for your funeral. I began to think we do create our own funeral. As you sit here listening to me, what do you want to be said about you at your funeral. Nobody wants the preacher or family to say that you were a no good scoundrel. How do you want to be remembered? Do you want people to remember you for your occupation? For being a good family person? For being dedicated to work? From doing all sorts of good deeds in the community? There is nothing wrong with those things. Let me share with you how I want to be remembered, so you guys who are at my funeral one day can make sure that people say these things about me, but more than that I want them to be true. I want to be remembered for my intense love for God, His Church, His Word and His people. Yes, I want to be remembered as a good father and a good husband, but I want people to remember my faith. Not because I want to have any glorification on this Earth, but because I want to please God. The reality is when your life is over everyone will think about your life and you character and make some conclusions about the type of person you were and the type of life you lived. What will they say? What will people say mattered to you? What will people say were your passions and strong points? Will people even mention your faith?
How do you want to be remembered? I’d go with faithful over faithless. I’d go with generous over stingy. I’d go with compassionate over cold and heart-hearted. I’d go with diligent over lazy. I’d go with Christ-like over worldly. I’d go with sincere over hypocritical.
The point I wanted to make clear is that when life is over the only thing that will matter or hold any weight is what we have done for God that matters. So many people spend their lives consumed with other less important things and never make time for the Church or for God.
We here make up a very diverse group. We have people from all age groups and different walks of life. We have people at different stages spiritually and we all may have different concerns. Those of you in the teen years or younger probably think that there is plenty of time left in your life to worry about your legacy. Those of you in your 20s and 30s are probably very busy starting your careers and families. Those in your 40s and 50s may be reaching the peak of your intellectual and professional lives and are enjoying the fruits of your labors. Those of in their 60s and 70s may be starting to have other concerns of health or retirement. Those in their 80s and 90s may realize that eternity is no longer an abstract concept, but a reality just over the horizon.
What kind of an impression are you giving as you live your daily life? Abraham Lincoln once said that “What you are speaks so loud, I can’t hear what you say.”
Has your faith sunk in to your heart to the point where it makes a difference in how you live your life? Or are you just going through the motions that you think you are supposed to go through. As you live your lives are you prepared to meet the Lord. The reality is we will all stand before Him some day.
II Corinthians 5:10
While we painted a picture at the judgment seat of the fear that will behold those who did not live totally for Jesus, there is another side of the story for those that knew Jesus as Lord and Savior.
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for one wall covered with small index card files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "People I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have Betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn’t laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my short life to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my own signature. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them! In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than 3 inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
