Long ago, he grew up on a farm nearby. He lived most of his life elsewhere. On the day of his memorial service, something happened. Let’s just say I hope he liked dogs!
I didn’t know the family. Their patriarch had passed months prior. They wished for a simple memorial service before they scattered his ashes near the old home place. Ours was a suitable country church.
It was a sunny, Spring morning when they arrived. About twenty family members entered quietly and sat near the front. As I began the service, I could hear birds singing outside – and noticed someone assumed the front door was self-closing. It wasn’t. A few minutes into the service I noticed movement at the door. It was that stray black dog that had been trying to convince us to keep her. She entered and casually strolled down the aisle toward me, tongue laughing and tail wagging.
I was horrified! How undignified. I hardly had time to react before someone noticed. A murmur swept down the pew. Heads turned. Then came the smothered chuckles! It was one of those “they-don’t-teach-this-in-seminary” moments. Someone jumped up to exit the interloper saying, “Dad would have loved to know a dog came to his funeral!” Everyone laughed! After that unplanned interlude, we returned to the business at hand feeling just a bit more human.
Jesus predicted His own death. But even as He did, He connected it with laughter because of what would happen just days later. “I will see you again,” He promised, “and your heart will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you” (John 16:22). His resurrection and its implications for you are reasons to be joyful.
I hope people have a chuckle at my funeral! I’ll be rejoicing and I don’t mind others joining in. How do I know? Because Jesus said, “I am the resurrection and the life; he who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26). That’s the question of eternity.