Respect For The Dead 2

As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a
graveside service for a homeless man, with no family or friends, who had
died while traveling through the area. The funeral was to be held at a
new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first
to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost; and
being a typical man, I did not stop for directions. I finally arrived
an hour late. I saw the crew, eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere
in sight. I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to
the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place.
I assured the workers I would not hold them long, but this was the
proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch. I poured out
my heart and soul. As I preached, the workers began to say “Amen,”
“Praise the Lord,” and “Glory.” I preached and I preached, like I’d
never preached before: from Genesis all the way to Revelations.

I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car.
I felt I had done my duty for the homeless man and that the crew
would leave with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite
of my tardiness.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard
one of the workers saying to another, “I ain’t never seen anything
like that before…and I’ve been puttin’ in septic tanks for
more’n 20 years.”

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Tags: minister funeral grave preach death prayer cemetery

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