If the Dead Could Speak

By Paul Tatham
tatham47@hotmail.com 

Exceeding any other life event, a funeral is the one occasion in which attendees will have their hearts most softened, focused, and receptive to  what God’s Word says about the hereafter.

One of the most interesting New Testament parables is that of the rich man and Lazarus, recorded in Luke 16. Lazarus dies and ends up in Heaven; the rich man dies and ends up in Hell. The reasons are not revealed.

The rich man, “being in torments,” yells across the “great gulf” that separates the two domains in a desperate attempt to catch the attention of Abraham in Heaven. “Please, Abraham,” he pleads, “send Lazarus to warn my five brothers still alive back on Earth, ‘lest they also come into this place of torment.’”

It is a sobering depiction of the two final destinies of all mankind, made all the more poignant by the fact that the account may be more than simply a parable but, instead, an actual true story. After all, Scripture never identifies it as a parable and, furthermore, biblical parables never name names.

But whether a parable or an actual case, Luke 16 is a chilling rendition of utter panic! You can hear the desperation in the rich man’s terror-filled voice as he tries to describe the urgency of his fate.

On bended knee, no doubt, he shrieks out two requests—firstly, a mere drop of water to cool his burning tongue and, secondly, that Lazarus be allowed to leave Heaven for a brief mission back to Earth in order to warn the rich man’s brothers that Hell is, indeed, a very real place.

If the unbelieving dead today were given voice, no doubt they would echo both sentiments. Serenely lying in his casket, while a minister misleadingly assures those who have come to pay their respects that “he’s in a better place,” the deceased’s wishes are frustratingly given no heed.

He’s screaming from his place of torment as the minister drones on about how the departed loved the game of golf. “In fact, he’s probably playing Heaven’s back nine right now,” he quips. The audience chuckles contentedly.

“There are no golf courses here!” the corpse silently hollers. “Tell them to

avoid this place at all costs!” But his warnings go unheard.

In another respect, funerals for those who do know Christ as their Savior can be almost as frustrating as funerals for those who don’t. We know that the dearly departed himself is in Heaven, a place so transcendent that the Apostle Paul was at a loss for words trying to describe it (II Corinthians 12).

The deceased is, indeed, in a far better place, and we all rejoice in that fact. When he put his faith and trust in the Lord Jesus Christ as his Savior, typically years earlier, his evasion of the horrors of Hell was guaranteed for all eternity. John 6:37 assures us that “him who comes to Me I will in no wise cast out.”

The frustration factor, however, comes into play when we realize that some who attend the funeral may not be Heaven bound. 

The person in the casket knows Christ but the same cannot necessarily be said of all his loved ones paying their last respects.

Those relatives who know not the Savior are in big trouble and don’t realize it. They are barreling along a dark mountain road at night without any headlights. 

Unless they receive Christ as their Lord and Savior they are headed for the precipice. They are bound for a lost eternity, where they will doubtless meet the rich man, still languishing in Hell, in addition to an innumerable throng of others for whom there is no hope.

While his soul is enjoying the delights of Heaven, the dead believer is perhaps viewing his own funeral service from above. He’s appreciative of all the accolades, to be sure, but his heart is burdened. He has but one message on his mind: warn everyone in attendance that there is only one way to join him in Heaven and thereby avoid the flames of Hell.

But the deceased no longer has a voice. He must rely entirely on the pastor who is officiating the service. The dead is hoping against hope that the minister will forego some of the anecdotes about the deceased’s love of fishing and center, instead, on what it means to be a fisher of men.

Endearing anecdotes certainly have their place, but the emphasis of any believer’s eulogy should land squarely on the gospel. 

Exceeding any other life event, a funeral is the one occasion in which attendees will have their hearts most softened, focused, and receptive to  what God’s Word says about the hereafter.

To allow such an opportunity to slip through one’s fingers is unconscionable. In fact, I would dare say that ministers who do will one day stand before God Himself to give an account.

Keep this in mind, dear believer, the next time you sit in your pastor’s office making funeral arrangements for a loved one. For Heaven’s sake, literally, make sure the gospel takes precedence over all else. That means two things:

·     * If the deceased knew Christ as his Savior, tell the story of how he came to Christ (often called his testimony). Give it prime space in the eulogy. Put it in writing on the bulletin handed to attendees.

·     * Make sure someone—typically the pastor officiating—gives a clear explanation of God’s plan of salvation. I have attended too many funerals in which the pastor’s presentation of the gospel was anything but clear. Instead of calling upon any unsaved in attendance to acknowledge their sinful condition and accept Christ’s payment on the cross on their behalf, a watered-down version is presented.

Too frequently, the “gospel” is feebly presented as “God wants to take control of your life,” or “God wants to be your friend” . . . whatever that means. 

The lost need to understand that they are truly lost and without hope of ever stumbling into Heaven under their own steam. 

They must acknowledge their sinful condition (Romans 3:23), believe that Jesus was God’s Son who died a substitutionary death for their sins (John 3:16), and realize that their good works won’t get them even a one-day pass into Heaven (Ephesians 2:8-9).

Lastly, in lieu of flowers, friends of the departed are often asked to make a donation to a charity. Flowers are lovely, of course, but charities certainly outlast them.

My point, however, is that not all charities are created equal. Instead of contributions to a civic club, the Red Cross, or a local hospice, give serious consideration to an evangelical Christian organization, where those donations will bear eternal fruit.

Christian organizations typically garner support only from Christians, while secular charities have a much deeper pool from which to draw. And, furthermore, winning the lost to Christ is not part of their mission statement.

By putting into practice some of these simple suggestions, we can transform the funeral of a believer from merely a “lovely service” into a powerful life-changing event that will give voice to the one trying desperately to shout from the grave.