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EVERY CASKET HAS A STORY
January was bleeding
into February when death came knocking. Six days ending on
Ground Hog Day were filled with five deaths that occurred
like falling dominoes. Three members of the church including
my father, a neighbor I knew growing up, and the lady who
ate meals with my father at the nursing home, all died like
trees toppling onto a snowy forest floor. They all impacted
me in varying degrees. I was responsible for two funerals,
but played a part in the other three. One of those funerals
was my father's.
My brother and I
talked about how we were going to speak to our father's
life. Our thoughts wandered. It was a strange and surreal
time for the both of us. Dad was ninety-eight and we
pondered how we were going to distill one hundred years into
about twenty minutes. Well, that didn't happen. It took us a
little longer to inadequately cover his life.
Most all of us have
been to funerals. Usually, we are there for the families
that are left behind. As I age, my thinking has changed.
Anymore, when I attend a funeral or conduct a funeral, I
reflect more on the life of the person who has died. The
truth is, every casket has a story inside. Enclosed you will
find real people who have had hopes and dreams, realized or
not. Life experiences each one had, with wisdom gained,
mistakes made, and relationships developed and cherished
over how ever many years. Every casket has a story.
My Dad's casket is no
exception. The story goes back almost a full century He had
a full life, long and productive, which included struggles,
hardship, amazing experiences, success and failure. It was
filled with loving relationships and acquaintances, not to
mention an incredible amount of social and technological
change.
I could spend an
entire book talking about what has transpired over the last
hundred years and what an amazing thing it was just to be a
part of that time. If that were all I related, you would
miss the real story of his life. So, let me take a few
minutes to give you the essence of the man who was my
father.
Dad was a man of very
few words, but when he did speak he usually had something
worth saying. You can learn a great deal about anyone by
what they talk about. Anybody who spent even a brief period
of time around my dad had no doubt about his life's focus.
You could start out with a nice pleasant conversation and
fill the air with small talk, but before long he'd be
talking to you about God. It didn't matter whether you
wanted to hear it or not.
My brother and I would
get dinner sermons on a regular basis. When we got into
trouble, Dad was never one to spare the rod, but when he
finished with the discipline, we would have to sit through a
fifteen minute dissertation on choosing between life in
Jesus, or death in sin.
My dad reminds me of
Billy Graham. Billy Graham preached thousands of sermons.
They may have been different, but they all had the same
message. Dad was like that. He'd say it in different ways,
but it was always the same message: You need to choose.
It wasn't to just us
boys either. My father was a dentist, and over the years my
brother and I would listen to him give the same sermon to
people he was working on. You will listen to somebody who is
about to drill a hole in your mouth. That's just the way he
was. God was in his heart, and that's what came out of his
mouth.
The one word that
described this man of God is obedience. He was obedient to
God's call on his life. There was no compromise in him. He
was like a snapping turtle that latches on to something. He
wouldn't let go. My brother and I asked him one time, "How
do you stay obedient to God when there are so many
enticements and the world is constantly pulling you in other
directions?"
He answered, "I get up
in the morning and during the day I try to do the things
that I should do, and I try not to do the things that I
shouldn't do." My dad was not a complex man. He was not an
intellectual or a theorist. He was just a simple man who
knew the truth and lived by it without compromise or
question. A man like that is rare in today's world and I was
blessed to be a part of that life.
Dad did everything he
could to bring my brother and me to the knowledge of Christ.
He said to us many times, "It doesn't matter whether you
boys love me or not. What matters is who you serve with your
life. You boys want to please yourselves. My job is to help
you get it right and please God with your lives." The shade
of that elder tree covered us boys and our families.
Dad would be
embarrassed if he read what you are reading, so in deference
to him, let me give you what I think would be his post
script. He would say, "Yeah, there is a story in every
casket including mine, but there is also . . . ."
A CASKET IN EVERY STORY
He would say, "This is
how we all end up. You have a choice to make. You get to
choose between life in Christ, or death in sin, and there is
no way around it."
Being a chip off the
old block, and since this fruit did not fall far from that
elder tree, I will echo him. One of my favorite verses in
the Bible is Ecclesiastes 11:8: "For if a man lives many
years, let him rejoice in them all; but let him remember
that the days of darkness will be many." My paraphrased
version of this verse is, "You're going to be dead a lot
longer than you are alive. So you might want to consider
where you're going to spend all that time." Dad would want
you to think about that, because even though every casket
has a story, we can be assured that . . .
EVERY STORY HAS A CASKET
See you sometime at a Great Banquet....
Jack
Pitzer, National Director
Great
Banquet & Awakening |
