The local church used to be the place of life and death. You would literally walk past your dead relatives to go worship God. There's a now-foreign shunting that happens when you have the uncomfortable truth of death in your face. We like to ignore mortality. Moreover we think that it's undeserved.
I deserve to live forever. At least that's what half of me thinks. The other half is so, so looking forward to being present with Christ and out of this busted and broken sphere. As to which half is the dominant... it depends on if it's before or after morning coffee.
All that aside.
Funerals are great because there's a room full of people who have to be fundamentally honest. There's no ruse of materialism present, though it has often turned back up again at the wake. It is like a moment of pure unadulterated reality. We. Are. Broken. And there's nothing in all of our power to do anything about it. We cannot save ourselves. We cannot undo the curse of mortality. We can't run. We can't hide. We are all already dying. And it is just beautiful.
The raw simplicity of death is a sharp facet of the revelation of God's sovereignty. He is the God of death. It is our 'just' reward for being what we naturally are. And this foul, painful, horrifying thing called death is His doing because ultimately it's what most adequately shows us the extent of our own brokenness. Death is revelatory. And that this 'last enemy' will ultimately be put under Christ's feet is therefore even more-so.
Yes I have a funeral on tomorrow and this is all in my head right now. Yes this is kind of scratching the surface of a bunch of other things. Yes I need sleep right now.