The early December afternoon showed a cold face as we arrived at the cemetery. A chilly wind blew from the west, and the spacious parking lot was empty. A small gathering showed people standing close together down one of the hills but not touching each other—another funeral.
We waited in our car. Five minutes later, a blue Toyota came beside us. This was my first view of the lady who phoned me two days ago. She had come with her two daughters. She waved at me, and I motioned, indicating that I would follow their car to the site of the newly covered grave.
We followed the three mourners to the grave, recently closed and now covered high with colorful plastic flowers of every description. The light-brown earth was covered beneath an abundance of flowers. Many people loved this man who passed away before he could experience a mid-life crisis. But he had been buried without so much as a prayer.
The mother-in-law asked me two days ago to read three passages: Psalm 23, I Corinthians 13, and Revelation 21. I asked them where they wanted to stand, and they took their place at the foot of the grave. My wife stood with them. Normally, internment would be accompanied by a hug or something spontaneous like a kind word matched by a loving gesture. But this is the world made fearful by Covid-19. Even though the man died from a kidney problem, we are constantly impacted by the fear of spreading it or getting the disease.
As I led this unexpected service to commit the body to the grave and his spirit to the Lord, many things passed through my mind. After only a few minutes in the open air under a cloudless sky, the gusty wind had us all shivering. Moved by emotion, I proclaimed the Gospel in simple terms. I gulped for air and caught my breath as I imagined the beautiful young widow who has returned to her home for the last 32 days, struggling to bring up two young teens.
And in between so many other thoughts, I returned to a growing awareness. Many of us have been commenting on this common thread: During a time of a public health crisis, the power of the Gospel has not been curtailed. Last night on a zoom call, we heard people saying they are praying more and reflecting more on the path their lives are taking. This morning, on another zoom meeting, we received repeated words of comfort, songs, news of creative ministries of feeding the poor in our area, the beginning of a read-through of the Book of John, and opportunities for sharing and receiving prayers. And this delayed funeral, requested by an unknown widow for her widowed daughter, is one more evidence that the Lord is with us, always the same, yesterday, today, and forever.
And more than that, we returned home having made three new friends. There was something very warming in the early winter winds of December.
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