In Remembrance

Have you planned your burial service? The actual service, the church service? Each of you over the age of 18 should have. And it doesn’t hurt to think about it when you are younger than 18, if you want to. I know for many people it’s an uncomfortable topic. It shouldn’t be. Several things prompt me to raise the question now. One is Ted Williams’ death this week. Many commentators have noted that Ted Williams once told someone that he would like to be remembered as "the greatest hitter who ever lived." Now that he has died, many are indeed remembering him that way. He is being remembered as he wished to be remembered.

I would like to be remembered as the best coloratura soprano of my generation. When I am gone, I would like people to say about me, "Nobody could sing the role of Mozart’s Queen of the Night with the purity, fluidity and sheer exuberance that she could." It ain’t gonna happen. When I die, nobody will remember me as a spectacular soprano. I’m not one. I can’t hit the high notes. Or even the low notes very well. Ted Williams is being remembered as an extraordinary hitter not because he said that is how we wanted to be remembered, but because he was, in fact, a very, very good hitter. It is not our wishes, or our words, or our claims that define us. All of us will be known and remembered for who we really are and for how we have actually lived our lives.

Which is why you should plan your burial service now. Think about it now while you still have time to live up to and in to the way in which you will be remembered. The words of the burial service that will be said at your death have a lot to teach you now about living your life. The point of planning your service is not so that you can let other people know how you wish to be remembered. They’re going to remember you based on how you’ve lived, no matter what you say. Nor is planning your service a control thing—a way for you to hang onto control of your life even beyond your life’s end. That sort of control is a conceit, an illusion. And you shouldn’t feel that you need to plan your service to save your "loved ones" the burden of doing so. That’s a noble sentiment, and it does help, but believe me, if your family are not up to the task, the funeral director will be more than happy to assist and support them in every way possible. You should plan your own service of Christian burial now because that planning just might inspire you to live the life of a Christian now. Through the process of planning, of studying the liturgy for the burial of the dead, you may learn something about living life.

For example: In your burial service you will be remembered, among other things, as a sheep from God’s own fold, a lamb of God’s own flock, a sinner of God’s own redeeming. Among the several Scripture readings recommended for the burial service, if you happen to choose for your service the familiar and majestic passage from Paul’s letter to the Romans, you will be reminded that in life, as in death, you cannot be separated from the love of God. Not by "angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation…" Nothing can separate you from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Do you live your life, now, as one who is inseparably united with God? Do you live, today, as a person loved and redeemed by Christ? You still have time to live, in life, the words that will be said about you at your death.

I’ve been thinking about planning burial services for another, more personal, reason. Today’s Gospel lesson reminds me of one of the hymns that I hope will be sung at my burial service. Hear again Jesus’ familiar and comforting words from Matthew: "Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

The hymn is number 692. The tune is marvelous. It’s by Thomas Tallis, who is often remembered as "the father of English church music." (I wonder how he would have said he wanted to be remembered.) The tune was written in the mid-1500’s, around the time of the English reformation. These particular words are more recent, having been written in the late 1800’s. You will understand why this morning’s gospel brought this hymn to my mind. If I were a great soprano, I’d sing it for you. I’ll say it instead.

I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘Come unto me and rest;
and in your weariness lay down your head upon my breast.’
I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn, and sad;
I found in him a resting place, and he has made me glad.

I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘Behold, I freely give
the living water; thirsty one, stoop down and drink, and live.’
I came to Jesus, and I drank of that life-giving stream;
my thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now I live in him.

I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘I am this dark world’s light;
look unto me, your morn shall rise, and all your day be bright.’
I looked to Jesus, and I found in him my Star, my Sun;
and in that light of life I’ll walk till pilgrim days are done.

The hymn, like the gospel reading, is very comforting. It speaks to that part of all of us that is weary, worn and sad. It speaks to our deep yearning for comfort, for rest. Its tender assurance of Jesus’ care for us is very compelling. Surely even those of us who are apprehensive about death, or fear death’s dark unknown, hope that death will bring such comfort, such rest, such freedom from burden and care.

But this is not a hymn about death. This hymn appears in that section of the hymnal entitled "The Christian Life." As much as we may long for comfort, peace and rest in life and in death, we are promised even more. "I came to Jesus as I was, so weary, worn, and sad; I found in him a resting place, and he has made me glad." Jesus offers us rest, a resting place deeper and more secure than any possible care or burden. But that’s not all. That’s not the end of the story. "He has made me glad," the hymn says. Beyond rest to gladness. Beyond rest for the moment to gladness for the morrow. Jesus makes our hearts glad.

Or if we come to Jesus dead with thirst, he quenches our thirst, yes, but with living water. "I came to Jesus, and I drank of that life-giving stream; my thirst was quenched, my soul revived, and now I live in him." Jesus quenches our thirst, but also offers so much more. His gift stretches beyond a satisfied thirst to a revived soul. Re-vived, alive again, to live in Christ.

And finally, Jesus is the light of this dark world. Surely we have known the darkness. But darkness—life’s darkness or death’s darkness—is not the end of the story. Nor does Jesus just offer some sort of escape from the darkness. He brings a new dawn. "I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘I am this dark world’s light; look unto me, your morn shall rise, and all your day be bright.’ I looked to Jesus, and I found in him my Star, my Sun; and in that light of life I’ll walk till pilgrim days are done."

I will certainly never be a .400 hitter in baseball. I will never be a great soprano. Those are not lives I can live. But I can live as a Christian. Each and every one of us can. Not by our own skills or merit, but by God’s gracious gift, given to us in Christ Jesus. So how would I like to be remembered? What would I like people to say of me after I am dead? I hope when I am gone people will say of me that I walked the pilgrim’s way, glad of heart, with soul revived, alive with the light of Christ.

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