The following is a sermon I wrote for a fictitious funeral. It was preached in my Introduction to Preaching course at Princeton Theological Seminary. The assignment was to use a Psalm of our choice in the context of a specific scenario. I used Psalm 31 for the following scenario: “Graveside services will be held for Katy Swank, a thirty year old mother of two who committed suicide this past Sunday. While Katy’s name has been on the church roll since childhood, she had not attended service at the local church for the past twenty years. Her children have been active participants in the church’s youth ministry program and had recently been baptized. She leaves to mourn her passing a devoted husband, a mother and father, and two children ages eight and ten.”
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We gather in grief and sorrow to mourn the loss of Katy Swank. I didn’t know Katy that well personally. We've only had a few interactions here and there throughout the past couple of months. Usually it was a wave or a nod when she came to pick up her kids after children’s choir on Wednesday evenings. And although these interactions were small and few and although I never really got to know Katy, when her parents asked me to preach at her funeral today, I knew I could tell Katy’s story through the lives of others. Because although I didn’t know Katy, I do know the people that loved her most, the people that now hold on to her spirit.
I met Katy’s parents, Dave and Linda, about two years ago. Both were freshly into retirement and had just moved back to Princeton to be closer to Katy and her family. This had been Dave and Linda’s home church until they moved, along with Katy, to Florida in 1996. Upon our first meeting, they told me they had a lot of memories in this church. This was the church was Katy and her siblings were baptized in was baptized in; this was the church Katy’s little brother Tom was baptized in, and this is the church was Tom’s funeral was held when he passed away at the age of eight. It was this last reason that Katy left the church – it was a memory to painful to hold onto. And although Katy had left the church, Dave and Linda said they were to be back in this congregation.
A few months after, I met Katy’s two children, Carleigh and Sam. Dave and Linda decided it was time to take the two the church. I remember my first encounter with them. Both of them were holding onto grandpa and grandma. Carleigh had this wide-eyed look of wonder and curiosity while Sam hid behind them. The weeks went by and soon Carleigh and Sam were a part of our Sunday School classes as well as our Children’s Choir. They always seem to just love it here. Soon this holding on turned into Careligh and Sam dragging grandpa and grandma everywhere through the church.
Well, it came as no surprise when Linda approached me about baptizing the two. They had become such an active part of our youth ministry, and so I told Linda that we could look into this after having a conversation with Carleigh and Sam’s parents. Unfortunately, Katy was busy, but her husband agreed to meet. And that’s when I met Andrew. And so the five of us sat down Dave, Linda, Andrew, Carleigh, and Sam, and discussed what it meant for the latter two to be baptized and how it meant that would be sealing their Christian identity that God has always been holding onto. And after getting Carleigh and Sam’s permission as they are now eight and ten, just a few short weeks ago, we baptized the two in front of our congregation. Katy was unable to attend, but she sent me a card that read, “Thank you. Peace, Katy.
So like I said, I didn’t know Katy, but I do know that she is at peace knowing that her family is here right now in this moment. I know that this was something she was holding onto. This is your home. And now, in your time of grief, this is your refuge. God is your refuge. This is where God has called you to be, even if right now we are here in grief and sorrow.
In our Psalm today, we have a voice crying out in lament:
“Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress.
My eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also.
For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing.
My strength fails away because of my misery, and my bones waste away.
I have passed out of mind like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel.”
There is a grief so overwhelming the body feels like its wasting away. There is a life filled with sorrow and pain. There is great distress that strength seems to be failing. There is brokenness. And so you so you ask yourself these questions. Am I feeling something similar to this Psalm? Am I able to put myself into this Psalm as a part of God’s story? And if this is God’s story, where’s the redemption or salvation – where’s the grace or the love? How can I be comforted?
Find comfort in God. In the abundance of goodness that is our God. In the steadfast love and in the rewards of faithfulness. In an eternal presence and in a unbreakable defense. That is our God. We can find comfort in God’s loving hands.
Because in this Psalm – this very same Psalm of lament – we have that same voice crying out something much greater:
In you, O Lord, I seek refuge;
do not let me ever be put to shame;
in your righteousness deliver me.
Incline your ear to me;
rescue me speedily.
Be a rock of refuge for me,
a strong fortress to save me.
You are indeed my rock and my fortress;
for your name’s sake lead me and guide me,
take me out of the net that is hidden for me,
for you are my refuge.
Into your hand I commit my spirit;
you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.
But I trust in you, O Lord;
I say, “You are my God.”
You see in the Psalm, we can feel the grief of the writer. We can feel the pain and the anguish. We can see the writer desperately calling out for God. Because despite all of this grief, pain, and anguish, the writer knows that our God is greater than that. That our God is stronger and more reliable than all of that! We see the writer shout out, “You are my Rock! You are my fortress! You are my God!”Because that is exactly what our God is. Our God just is. Our God is our rock. God is our fortress. God is our redeemer, our savior, our defense, our hiding place, our shelter. Our God is our God. Our God is.
We have a God that can do anything – a God that can choose to be anything. And the choice that was made was God chose to be our loving God. A God whose hand is reaching out to each of us to grab on tight. A hand that that also holds the spirit of Jesus because in Luke 23:46, Jesus said with his final breaths before he died on the cross, “Father into your hands I commend my spirit.” The same phrase that we have heard in this Psalm: Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.” Because God has promised each of us new and eternal life. We need to live for God because one day we will die and go to God. God’s hands are already there – hands that are surrounded by the grace given through the death and resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ – waiting for us to grab on, reaching out to us so they we may hold on
Katy was a daughter, a wife, and a mother. There is terrible grief in her loss. There is terrible pain and affliction. And now, more than ever, we need to hold on to something. We need to hold on to each other. We need to hold on the church. And above all else, we need to hold on to God. God’s loving hands are right there waiting for you to grab them. Hold on and hold on tight. “Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who wait in the Lord.”
