Category: funerals

Are You a Secret Agent?

Early in my adult life, I read a book by Billy Graham titled, Angels: God’s Secret Agents.* Playing on the popularity of spy movies and TV shows of the 1970s, the book laid out the reality of angelic beings who, though usually unseen (hence, “secret”) carry out God’s will in the world and in the lives of his people. Sometimes that work includes protection from harm, other times they are God’s  messengers (the Greek word for angel is angelos, a word meaning messenger).

I certainly believe in such creatures, and believe they have intervened in my own life. But I also believe that God has other “secret agents” who serve his will, besides those angelic beings. Those other agents are plain old people, just like you and me. Sometimes those agents are known; other times they are “secret” – even at times to themselves.

I was reminded of this when I recently spoke at a memorial service. I told the mourners of how the deceased man had brought me a message of encouragement at a critical time in my life. During a time when I had been discouraged, I heard a conference speaker tell of how God might speak through someone whose opinion we respected. Within days of that talk, this very thing occurred. The man at whose service I spoke had affirmed my ministry; he was one of God’s “secret agents,” a human “angel” who didn’t even know his message was from God.

I’ve told the story of another such messenger, a visiting pastor who spoke one sentence in his sermon that changed the entire direction of my life. Before I had ever thought of going into the ministry, he said, “There’s a shortage of pastors in the Lutheran Church; some of you may consider that you are being called to the ministry.” His words hit me like a sledge hammer. They were God’s call on me, and after being confirmed by subsequent events, led me to quit my job, sell the house, go to seminary, and move to Elk Grove for a one year internship (which lasted for 22 years until retirement!) He was God’s secret agent who brought me what God’s will was for my life.

I’m sure we could all think of such people who touched our lives in ways that helped us. There were people who helped us in practical ways, meeting our physical and material needs. Other people helped us grow spiritually. Some have admonished us, corrected us, encouraged us, or taught us. Some have shown us Jesus Christ in word and action. They may have been friends, relatives, teachers, pastors (hopefully!), mentors, bosses, or even total strangers whom God sent to lead us in a certain direction, or away from the wrong one. The secret agent may not even be a believer.

One example of such an unknowing agent of God’s will is in John 11:49-52. There we read of the chief priests gathered to plot Jesus’ death. The high priest, Caiaphas, proclaimed, “. . . it is better for you that one man should die for the people, not that the whole nation should perish.” The next verse tells us, “He did not say this of his own accord, but being high priest that year he prophesied that Jesus would die for the nation, and not for the nation only, but also to gather into one the children of God who are scattered abroad.” Caiaphas’s words both explained and actually helped bring about God’s purpose in Christ’s sacrificial death – all without knowing he was God’s agent in doing so.

We find many examples of people serving as God’s agents in the Bible. The Old Testament prophets and New Testament Apostles were God’s not-so-secret agents in bringing God’s word to his people. Some brought words of Gods judgments, such as Jonah to the city of Nineveh. Another, named Agabus, brought a prophetic warning to Paul (Acts 21).  Elizabeth blessed the pregnant Mary (Luke 1), and Priscilla and Aquila encouraged Apollos, writing to other believers to receive him warmly (Acts 18). In the Old Testament, Jonathan was an “angel” to his friend David, protecting him from King Saul during the latter’s bouts of anger (1 Samuel 20).    

So, God does use special agents, angelic and human, to accomplish his will in the world. But how do we recognize that and be equipped to serve as his agents ourselves? Our nation’s agents learn what is called, “spycraft.” In that spirit, I offer the following training for those willing to serve as God’s agents.  I call it:

SPYCRAFT 101

Know your handler. Code name: the Father.

Know your mission. Your “Handler” has graciously provided you with a manual which describes your overall mission – to make disciples of all nations – and provides you with ways to accomplish it – such as by teaching and baptizing (Mathew 28). Study the manual every day and memorize all you can; Job 22:22 says, “Receive instruction from his mouth, and lay up his words in your heart.” (Some other spy schools say to “read and then burn” their instructions, but we don’t recommend that here.)

Maintain communication with Headquarters. Before, during, and after you embark on a mission, maintain communication with the One who sent you out. Don’t make a big fancy show of it; we are told even to go into our rooms and “shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:6).

Spies use disguise. Remember that you may not recognize secret agents because they are, well, secret. They may come to you as total strangers, friends, family members, fellow students, co-workers, or even as pastors. Don’t write off what someone says just because they don’t seem important in the world’s way of looking at people. The Handler may have chosen that person for a very special purpose known only to him. Listen, and watch them and compare what they say to your spy manual.

Don’t draw attention to yourself. Spies use the concept of the “gray man,” meaning they assume an appearance in clothing and mannerisms that allows them to blend in with the crowd, so that they are not noticed or remembered. Apply this idea to yourself. If you help someone, don’t take the credit or boast of your role. It’s not about you. Jesus said if you do good works, people should give glory to the Father  (Matthew 5:16). You don’t have to be special for God to use you. After all, God once spoke through a donkey to a prophet named Balaam -a lesson which prideful preachers need to take to heart! (Numbers 22:28).

Keep supplied. Remember that your Handler has vast storage depots ready to provide what you need to do your mission. Whether food  – “man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord” (Deuteronomy 8:3); water – “Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.'” (John 7:28); weapons -“For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword. . .” or armor –  “put on the whole armor of God” Ephesians 6:11) (Hebrews 4:12). Philippians 4:19 promises, “And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”

Beware enemy agents. Yes, it is sad, but true. The enemy (code name: Beelzebub) employs his own agents in the world, demonic and human, seeking to subvert and destroy our Handler’s work and will. Their weapons include harassment, anger, hatred, lies, and even violence. But remember, although we often need to deal with them, we should never be afraid to carry out our own mission, because “He who is in us is greater than he who is in the world” (1 John 4:4). Remember too that our war is not against flesh and blood, but against spiritual powers – including Beelzebub (Ephesians 6:12). Therefore we are not to hate his human minions, but must seek to turn them, converting them from being enemy agents into servants of our Handler. (Nothing like a good double-agent to thwart the enemy’s plans!)

Small missions can yield big results. Don’t be discouraged if the work you do for the handler seems small or insignificant. You have no idea what the results are that will ripple outward and down through time because of that little word you said, the encouragement you offered, or the seemingly weak testimony you gave. Your Handler knows what he is doing, and can multiply your work. Even if you don’t see immediate results, your courage in acting may help you to do more next time. You are after all, a trainee (as are we all!).

Finally, we should note that our Handler doesn’t really need us to do anything for him. It is by his grace and mercy that he recruits and allows us to play a role in his work. He could accomplish it all by a single command and the very atoms would have to obey, as they did in creation, and as they continue to do, being held together by his word. But by his grace, he does involve us, blessing us with the eternal joy of being part of his plan. How wonderful is that!

Nathan Hale, one of our nation’s first spies said before he died: “I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.” When we can say that about giving our life to the Great Handler, then we will truly be God’s secret agents.

Now may the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.

Read: Philippians 3:20-21; 1 John 3:1

*Billy Graham, Angels: God’s Secret Agents, Thomas Nelson, Nashville, Tennessee, 1975 – 1995.

Three Score and Ten

Three score and ten years ago . . . No, those aren’t the opening words of the Gettysburg Address; Lincoln’s famous 1863 speech began with, “four score and seven years ago,” and referred to the founding of our country in 1776. So to what major event does “three score and ten” refer? Why, to my birth, of course!  Yes, in a little over a week from now, I will celebrate my 70th (three-score and tenth) birthday. It’s hard to believe that I’m now that old, though I’m even older according to Native American reckoning – 71 – since many of those tribes counted the time in the womb as the first year of life.

In most respects, 70 is just another number, and my birthday will be just another day. I will be just another day older and won’t feel much different from the day before. No church bells, sirens, fireworks, or parades to mark the occasion (though there should be!). No, I will just go to bed at age 69 and wake up the next day at age 70.

But in one respect, seventy is a significant age, and that is because of its use in Psalm 90 – the only Psalm ascribed to the great prophet and leader, Moses. This Psalm describes the Lord as being “from everlasting to everlasting” (verse 2), and says that to him, a thousand years are like one night (verse 4). Then it asks the Lord to teach us to “number our days” (verse 12) because unlike God, our time on earth is limited. How limited? According to verse 10, “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty . . . they are soon gone, and we fly away.” In King James English, that’s, “threescore years and ten; or fourscore years.”

It’s interesting that despite our advances in nutrition and medical care, in 2020 our life expectancy in the U.S. falls right in the biblical parameters set over 3000 years ago: 75 years for males and 80 years for females. (Maybe I should follow the trend and change genders – and thereby extend my life another five years?)

Whatever my own personal “expiration date,” I think that reaching the three-score-and-ten-year milestone does call for me to number my days and evaluate where I stand.

First of all, I have come to realize that there are just some things I will never accomplish. I will never win an Olympic gold medal (or silver, or bronze); I will never be a billionaire and fly into space; I will never win an Oscar, or an Emmy, or a Grammy; I will never  climb Mt Everest; I will never win a Medal of Honor; I will never run in the Boston Marathon; I will never swim the English Channel (though I did once pass underneath it!); I will never again sing a solo in church; I will never raise water buffaloes; and I will never become President of the United States (though, based on the last two elections, I’m barely old enough to run!).

On the other hand, I have done a lot of amazing things in my three-score and ten years: I have been on the radio, on TV, and in several national journals; I have published a book and written two others; I was a national Merit Scholar and graduated third in my high school class; I once did sing a solo in church, backed up by an all-Black Gospel choir; I have been to 12 countries on four continents (inadvertently invading one of them*); I rode on a Soviet tank and swam in a river in Siberia; I sailed in France, petted reindeer above the Arctic Circle, and preached a sermon in Spanish in Peru; I won my division in my city’s tennis tournament; I earned a Bachelor’s Degree and a Master’s Degree summa cum laude; I served in the pastoral ministry for 22 years; I read the Scriptures during a worship service in Martin Luther’s  church in Wittenberg, Germany; I have learned (and am still learning) several language; I have a blog (duh!); and, last but not least, I have been married for 47 years!

But of all the important things I could say about my life, there is one above all others: I am a Christian, redeemed by Jesus Christ, forgiven of all my sins, and written in the Book of Life for all eternity (Revelation 3:5). This is ultimately the one that matters, for as Psalm 90 says, my years “are soon gone, and we fly away.” As wonderful as my blessings in this life have been, they will all pass away, and only one thing will remain: eternal life in Jesus Christ.

Other passages in Scripture also emphasize our mortality. 1 Peter 1:24-25 proclaims, “All flesh is like grass and all its glory like the flower of grass. The grass withers, and the flower falls, but the word of the Lord remains forever.” Genesis 3:19 says, “for you are dust, and to dust you shall return.” Ecclesiastes 3:20 lumps us with the animals, saying “All go to one place. All are from the dust, and to dust all return.” Psalm 90:3 says, “You return man to dust and say, ‘Return, O children of man!'” Psalm 39:4 says, “O Lord, make me know my end and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting I am!” In the New Testament, James 4:14 says, “What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.” And Hebrews 9:27 reminds us, “And just as it is appointed for man to die once, and after that comes judgment. .  .”

By now you’re probably thinking, “Rich sure has gotten morbid now that’s he’s turning 70!” But that’s not the case, because my – and all mankind’s – limited lifetime is not the whole story; as Christians we know that our lives have really just begun. Not only do our spirits go to the Lord at our death, we can look forward to our bodily resurrection, when we will rise to new life in a new heaven and new earth (Isaiah 65:17 and Revelation 21:1). For as Christ has by his own death and resurrection conquered death, so we too shall live: Paul tells us beautifully in 1 Corinthians 15:51-55,

“Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be  changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. or this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written: ‘Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?'”

In the book of Job, that ancient, suffering saint proclaimed joyously in the Bible’s earliest reference to resurrection,

“For I know that my Redeemer lives,
    and at the last he will stand upon the earth.
And after my skin has been thus destroyed,
    yet in my flesh I shall see God,
whom I shall see for myself,
    and my eyes shall behold, and not another.” (Job 19:25-27)

The most well-known statement of eternal life is John 3:16, which says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.”

In the words of the contemporary Christian song, 10,000 Reasons, the last verse reads, “And on that day when my strength is failing, The end draws near and my time has come, Still my soul will sing your praise unending,  Ten thousand years and then forever more.”

You may have one more question at this point: Do I consider my eternal life to be my greatest accomplishment?  Well, no, because like Paul I cannot boast in anything except in Christ my Savior: “Let the one who boasts,  boast in the Lord” (1 Corinthians 1:31). Why? Because my salvation is not my accomplishment, but the gift of God and by his grace alone. Remember, we are saved by God’s mercy through faith in his Son, Jesus Christ:

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast” (Ephesians 2:8-9).

“For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law” (Romans 3:28).

Therefore, my greatest “accomplishment” was not done by me, but by God working in and on me. It is to him I turn in thanks for the three score and ten years he already granted me, and for how many years there are still to come. But most of all, I look forward to his greatest gift of all: eternal life in his presence, given by his mercy and love.

Seventy years old? No, not old. Based on God’s promises – which I believe – at 70 years I’m just a new-born babe!

Now may the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.

Read: Psalm 90; 1 Corinthians 15; Revelation 21. 

*I invaded Canada in high school  when the bus I was in failed to check in properly at the border. On the way back to the U.S. the Canadian border agent couldn’t admit an entire bus had gotten past him and entered his country illegally, so he let us go.

 

Elegy in a Churchyard

In 1751, Thomas Gray published his famous poem, “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” in which he contemplated life and death and his own waiting grave. Yesterday I contemplated some of the same subjects while sitting in church. My wife and I were attending the memorial service for a man we’ve known for almost 25 years now. He was elderly and in poor health, and had expressed he was ready for his earthly journey to end. As a solid Christian, he anticipated heaven and the chance to see his wife, who had preceded him in death just a few months earlier. Still, it’s always hard to say good-bye to someone you like, even though you know his passing is a blessing to him.

As I sat in the service, I thought back over the many funerals I conducted while serving in active pastoral ministry. I officiated at 160 services, of which five were during my first year of retirement, and one was before going to seminary. (This compares to 76 weddings and over 300 baptisms.) As I pondered the words of yesterday’s service, a number of incidents from “my” funerals came to mind. I’d like to share some of the “high-lights” and “low-lights” with you.

The first service was while I was serving as an interim preacher at a small, country congregation in nearby Edinburgh, Indiana. The pastor had died, and my own pastor sent me over to help out while I was still taking part-time seminary courses by extension. I preached almost every Sunday and taught confirmation classes, but when it came to administering sacraments and conducting funerals or weddings, a real pastor was called in.

It was in this context that I assisted at the service of a 12-year old boy who had suddenly become ill and died. His parents and the small, family-like congregation were devastated; I remember visiting the dad right after the boy died, and hearing his lament that God could have let his son live long enough to play his beloved baseball one more season before taking him. I didn’t know how to respond – I probably still wouldn’t.

But I definitely wouldn’t say what the real pastor said during the eulogy. She said, “God has a lot to answer for, to take this boy so young.” She was in touch with the family’s questioning of “Why? Why him, and why now?” but even though I had barely begun my seminary studies, I knew her statement was wrong. God has nothing to have to answer for. He is God, and he can do as he wishes. Whether he caused the death outright or just allowed a natural disease to run its course was his decision. Who am I, or who was that pastor, to charge God with wrongdoing?

Scripture says that God’s ways are beyond our scrutiny and judgment. Though we may ask, as the psalmists do, “Why, O Lord?” (Psalm 10:1, 88:14, for example) when evil befalls us, we are in no position to judge God. We are told that God’s ways and decisions are unsearchable: “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable” (Isaiah 40:28), and in Romans 11:33, “Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!” As high as the heavens are above the earth, so are his ways higher than ours, and his thoughts than our thoughts (Isaiah 55:9). When righteous Job questioned all the suffering he endured, God responded to him with, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding” (Job 38:4), and “Will you even put me in the wrong?
Will you condemn me that you may be in the right?” (Job 40:8). Clearly, to charge God with wrongdoing and attempt to judge him based on our limited knowledge and standards, is itself wrong.

When the service ended, we stepped outside to the small cemetery in the adjacent churchyard for the burial. I read Jesus’ words from John 11:25-26 aloud: “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die.” When I read the words, I choked up, barely getting them out – not just because I shared the family’s grief, but also because I looked forward to the day when that entire little cemetery (and all others) will empty at Christ’s return. The hope of what is to come trumped the loss at what had happened. That is the message every funeral should proclaim.

The second service I conducted was about nine months after I was ordained. The woman was a non-member referred to me by friends of hers when they learned she had terminal bone cancer. I visited her off and on for several months, praying with her and reminding her of our faith even as the cancer spread and wreaked havoc in her body. Finally, on a Maundy Thursday morning, I sat with her and her family as she said her final good-byes and slipped into eternity. It hit me hard. As it happened, I preached at out church’s Maundy Thursday service that evening, and struggled greatly with the message, which was about Judas’s betrayal and our participation in his sin. And about Jesus’ pending death.

When I preached at her service, I had no idea that I would be doing the same for her unbelieving husband two years later, though thanks be to God, he came to faith during one of my visits to him just prior to his death. After his conversion, his family wondered about the change that had taken place in him, and asked me just prior to beginning his service, “What did you do to him? He’s a different (better) man now!” I had to reply that it wasn’t me, but God’s doing. I realized that my ministry to his wife was not only for her comfort, but also the means to lay the groundwork for his salvation.

There was the “Wrong Name” service.  Less than two years after my ordination, I made the one mistake every preacher dreads: saying the wrong name in a funeral service. In my defense (he rationalizes) the odds were stacked against me. I had two services just three days apart for two non-member women who were about the same age. Both services were at funeral homes. One woman’s name was Barbara and the other Margaret, both of whom, you will note, had the same number of syllables, and basically the same vowels. Though the sermons were different, I used the same template for both services, just erasing the first person’s name from my service book and writing in the second one. Of course, I missed one of the changes, so when it came time in the second service to read the deceased’s name, I said the wrong one. As soon as I did, my heart sank and I knew the family would be upset and my career would be over, but from every indication, no one noticed – except of course, my wife, who was attending that service. Spouses always catch those things. I determined to be more careful in the future, and never again made that mistake – at least as far as I know . . .

The “Open Mic” service. Though I did officiate at a number of services where the family wanted everyone who wanted to, to get up and say something, there was one that stood out more than others. We held the service at a school cafeteria where the young man had worked. There was a large turnout of co-workers, students, and friends of the family. The service proceeded just fine until it came time for the eulogy. In keeping with the family’s request, I invited people to come forward to the microphone and give their tributes. Many people spoke, until finally it appeared it was time to move on. Just as I began the benediction, a man stood up and asked to speak. I started to tell him he was too late, when the family asked me to let him speak. I deferred, and stepped back. He came up, took the mic in hand, and began his remarks with the words, “I didn’t know the deceased, but . . .” He went on to completely undermine my Christian message of faith and resurrection, telling everyone that the deceased was now a tree, or a bee or something like that. I resolved never to let that kind of thing happen again, so in future services, I declined requests for open mics and asked family to designate two or three people they knew and trusted to give a few memories of the deceased. Those services went much better.

There are many other funerals and  memorial services I could tell about, such as the one where I had to inspect the un-embalmed body of the deceased to make sure he was wearing his glasses and wedding ring; when I reported to the widow that he was, she asked me if he still had his dentures.

But rather than going too long, I want to close with my philosophy of the reasons we conduct Christian funerals. As I tell the families, we have four goals in every service. First, we remember and honor the deceased, being thankful for his or her life and the memories they leave us. Second, we seek to comfort all who are grieving, easing their pain and giving them hope. Third, we praise and honor God, thanking him for his gift of life – for that person and for all of us. And fourth, we preach the Gospel to all who attend, calling on them to believe in Jesus Christ and what he has done for them by his own death and resurrection, that they too might not fear death but look forward instead to eternal life. To fail any of those goals is to let down all who mourn, for even though Christians mourn the loss of loved ones, Paul reminds us, “But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep.” (1 Thessalonians 4:13-14).

No matter how many funerals there are, or whatever human failings enter into the services, the great message of hope is the same as what I read at that first service years ago: Jesus is the resurrection and the Life. Whoever believes in him, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in him shall never die. May you also believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing have life in his name. (John 20:31).

May the Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. Amen.

Read: Job 38-41, Isaiah 40, John 11