Funeral Sermons by C. L. TAGGART

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Jun 30, 1910

Funeral Sermons

By C. L. TAGGART

C. L. TAGGART

It is certainly fitting, just before our friends are carried to their last resting-place, not only out of respect for them, but for the sake of the bereaved, that we have Scripture reading and a short service. This is not simply to follow custom, but for real benefit. Lay brethren as well as ministers are often called to conduct these services. The grief-stricken hearts seem ready to break: comfort is what is needed in this trying hour. That which is said, we believe, should be of a nature to console. We would far better be on the road to the cemetery than spending the time calling attention to the fact that there will always be a vacant chair, a voice which will never be heard again, no more caresses from those arms, etc. Nothing is needed to call these things to remembrance.

The Saviour spoke words of consolation upon such occasions. “What could be more comforting than, ‘Our friend Lazarus sleepeth; but I go, that I may awake him out of sleep’?” It would seem as if Christ purposely avoided using the word “dead,”—a word that has its true meaning when applied to the “second death.” That our Lord so understood it is shown in the words, “Whosoever liveth and believeth in me shall never die.” In other words, this present death is a sleep; but of those who reject salvation it will one day be said, in the true sense of the word, that they are dead.

Paul also desired to turn the attention from the dismal tomb. He told the believers to comfort one another with these words: “The Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first: then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet Lord in the air; and so shall we ever be with the Lord.”

In conducting a funeral service, we shall do well if, as far as possible, we bridge over the grave. We can point the loved ones to the bright morning of the resurrection, but we should remember that we have never been delegated to tell who is coming up in the first and who in the second resurrection. Often we are called to comfort the sorrowing where there is little hope for the future of the deceased. The immediate friends know more about the deceased than any one else. If we undertake to tell his history, we may make a sad mistake. It has become altogether too customary to spend time eulogizing the dead. If one has lived a long and useful life or a long and wicked life, what can be said, one way or the other, will not help matters in the least. Those who are listening to our words are the ones we want to help, and what they need just now is comfort. Whether, therefore, it be in a sermon or in a conversation with those who have been bereft of loved ones, let us point them to the “God of all comfort.” “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” The troubled soul can come boldly to the throne of grace, “and find grace to help in time of need.” “The Spirit itself maketh intercession for us with groanings which can not be uttered.” Heaven takes cognizance of us. We can remember, when we are sorrowful, that Christ has “borne our griefs and carried our sorrows.” When the load of grief seems heavier than can be borne, the burdened heart can cast its burden on the Lord, relying on the certainty of his promise, “He shall sustain thee.” As far as it is possible to do so, think of that which will give comfort. There is a bright time to which we can look, a time when “God shall wipe away all tears,” and “there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”