Thoughts on (maybe) preaching my first funeral

There are a couple of firsts every new pastor looks forward.  His first baptism.  His first wedding ceremony.  His first communion.  One that I doubt anyone looks forward to, though, is preaching his first funeral.

Though I'm not a pastor right now, I'm still ordained in the Southern Baptist Convention and offer my services wherever needed.  This past week the pastor of the congregation my family currently belongs to asked if I would be willing to stand in for him in the event of a funeral.  It turns out that a woman who had long been a member was now in hospice care and wasn't expected to last much longer.  Since the pastor was going to be out of town this weekend, he asked if I would be willing to perform the funeral service if it happened while he were gone.

I said that of course I was willing, but that I had never done that before.  He assured me that the service had been planned and would no doubt go smoothly, and that I wouldn't be expected to provide a full sermon, but rather a short message and prayer at the graveside.  I have to admit that I still wasn't -- and I'm still not -- fully reassured.

I know part of it is just nerves, but there are other issues as well.  I've been to only a few funerals, and can only remember one message clearly.  It bothers me that I don't know the lady or her family.  It bothers me that it's a funeral, and emotions will be running high.  It bothers me that if I screw this up, the family will likely never forgive me.

In thinking about all this, I remembered the story of Lazarus and his resurrection in John 11.  I remember that the family sent word to Jesus for help, but that Lazarus died anyway.  I remember that Martha took her grief out on Jesus, wanted to know why he didn't save her brother.  I remember that though Jesus knew what he was going to do, though he knew the grief would be short-lived, he wept anyway.  I remember that after this, he called forth Lazarus from the grave, and I remember that Lazarus arose and saw his Lord.

Here's a text that acknowledges that God doesn't always answer prayers like we think that he should, and that though he knows the end from the beginning, he shares our pain anyway.  It shows that for those who love Christ a time will come when they rise and see him face to face.  It tells us that there is a day when our tears will end.

I don't know if that's the text I'll preach from, if I even have to preach at all.  I know, though, that it tells me what I always want and need to hear when someone I love has left this world.  It's a good start, anyway.