Funerals: The good stuff

We have had a lot of funerals at church in the past eighteen months. We've had three since Easter, with one more coming soon. So many of our dear saints who lived full, active lives into their 80s and 90s have left us, and it has left a hole.

I am in charge of the funeral dinners at church, but I have always gone to the funerals anyway. In our earlier years at Redeemer, I went to most of them because I was taking sons to acolyte and it didn't make sense to drive back home. Over time, as I got to know the people, I just wanted to be there.

At the last couple of funerals, as I looked around the sanctuary and noticed how few congregation members were there, I started thinking about the place of funerals. (This has been part of a much broader musing on relationships within the church, the whole idea of a church family, etc., that will be making appearances here and in my presentation at the Family Retreat this summer, but I digress.)

I've been thinking about why people don't go and why I wish they would.

Funerals are never convenient. Believe me, the pastors and church secretary know this. People are busy and don't want to take time out of a Monday morning or Saturday afternoon to go to a funeral. Moms don't want to bring their kids, or aren't sure they belong. People say that they didn't really know the deceased. Because we fight so hard to avoid thinking about death, we are really uncomfortable with those who are dealing with it up close and personal.

But death is real. Avoiding thinking about it doesn't make it go away, and I think there is a lot of value in pausing to acknowledge it. My job forces me to: Putting together the funeral bulletin. Marking someone as "Removed by Death" in the software. Putting together their obituary for the bulletin. Each of these takes precedent over other more routine tasks, because death comes when it comes, no matter how busy we all are with our lives.

And so do funerals. And you should go, if you can. There are so many good reasons that it's hard to know where to start.

First, if your pastor is doing his job, you're going to get the good stuff at a funeral. The real stuff. The life-giving Gospel. If you come to a funeral at Redeemer, you are going to hear sermons that are among the pastors' best.

You will sing hymns and responses. I admit to a selfish thought here. This will mean that there are more people singing. The acolytes, Pastors, and I sometimes are reminiscent of a very small and thinly-spread choir. But singing hymns together, feeling the tears as you sing "I KNOW THAT MY REDEEMER LIVES," this is a good thing. And it's a witness to the families who are all too often not church people that this is real, and important, and not just to blue-haired old ladies, but to middle-aged men, and moms, and kids, too.

It means a huge amount to people to have their loss acknowledged. Huge.

It is good for your kids. My tears at the last funeral were brought on by thinking about what an incredible gift acolyting at funerals has been to my sons. They know death is real. Over the last 13 years, they've acolyted for the funerals of the elderly and the young. They've acolyted for those they've barely known and for those they've loved. They've learned to control their emotions while they serve. They have spent extra time with Pastor on the way too and from funerals. They've gotten to know and serve our members in another way. And they've heard all those devil-kicking sermons.

And people have loved having them there. I have received so many words of appreciation for their presence. Being there for each other is an important part of this church family thing. Really. Even for the people who only come to Sunday services. They appreciate the presence of their church family at the time of death. I know this because they tell me.

Death isn't something to hide from our children. How much better that they get used to the idea and practice saying goodbye to the elderly lady that always sat in the back pew, or the man with the hair growing out of his ears, so that grandma's funeral isn't their first? How wonderful it is to hear their young voices joining in the prayers and the singing, because they are part of the church family.

As I said, this is part of some larger thoughts that will be showing up over the next couple of months. I know there was a post shared by some of my friends last week that had to do with funerals that I didn't read because I didn't want to get my thoughts muddled before I had a chance to write this, so I think I'll seek that out now.

Kenyan hymnal project

My friend Sandy is a deaconess intern working on a project developing a Lutheran hymnal for Kenya. She has a new blog devoted to the project.

Go read this

Some thoughts on Classical Education and Lutheranism from my good friend Elephant's Child.
I have lots of thoughts percolating on all kinds of education-related topics. I'll see if any of them make it to the surface.

Unschooling and being a Christian

I original wrote this in February 2006, but it was brought to mind by a conversation on another blog, and I realized that it wasn't on this blog. So I'm posting it here.

Just before my unplanned hiatus I received an email from a homeschool mom who wanted to know how I could square being an unschooler with being a Christian. This isn't the first time I've heard someone question whether the two are compatible, but it is the first time I've tried to come up with an answer.

So what does it mean to be a Christian parent? The simplest way for me to answer is to turn to the Table of Duties in my copy of Luther's Small Catechism. There I find these words:

Ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath, but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. Eph. 6, 4.

I fulfill my vocation as a Christian mother in many ways, including but not limited to having our children baptised, regularly attending services, and doing catechesis together. Part of our vocation as parents--whether or not we are Christians--is to see to the education of our children. We have chosen to homeschool, and, in the course of our homeschool journey, to unschool.

I think that some people equate unschooling with having no discipline. They assume that unschooled children are allowed to do as they please in all areas of life. There very likely are unschooling families where this is true. However, I have a number of unschoolers among my acquaintances who--like us--require quite a bit from our kids and are unquestionably in charge.

Our unschooling does color the way we live our lives. My children have a great deal of autonomy in choosing what they will read and how they will spend their time. We don't have set times for "English" or "social studies." They don't do assignments and worksheets. They spend lots of time doing exactly what they want to do and learning all the while.

But there are things that they have to do. They have to bathe and brush teeth daily. They have to do their share of the work around the house without me nagging. This includes dishes, laundry, bedrooms, their bathroom, and cat care.

They have to attend church services. (As yet, no one has complained about this.) If they make commitments--to a team, choir, job, etc.--they have to fulfill them.

If I ever see that unschooling is not working for one of my kids, we will do something else. Because I *am* ultimately in charge. Unschooling was my decision not theirs. But after over ten years, it is still working.

So, yes, the short answer is I do think it is compatible with being a Christian.

St. Michael Conference

Monday morning I got another of those little glimpses of Heaven. The sound of the voices of a goodly number of pastors singing hymns has to be very close to what we'll hear there!

I was privileged, once again, to feed the attendees at the St. Michael Conference. There is a bit of effort involved, but I enjoy feeding people, and the blessings far outweigh the work. The worship services were wonderful. The full-throated singing of "Praise My Soul the King of Heaven" by mostly male voices led on the organ by the Rev. Dr. Daniel Reuning was amazing. Kantor Reuning has the gift of playing in a way that makes the singing better and I am fortunate to be blessed by it every Sunday.

It was unusally great to hear my own pastor preach, because he has been on sabatical for two months, and will not be back until All Saints.. One of the things that I heard the Rev. Dr. Karl Fabrizius say in his presentation--I got to hear snippets of a couple--was that people learn the vocabulary, phrasing, etc., of their pastor. We learn what to expect. Listening to pastors we are accustomed to is easier for us, and it makes it harder for new pastors, or those filling in. This is so true. We, as listeners, owe it to those who are preaching to really listen and to realize that some effort may be required on our part when we are listening to someone new to us preach.

I always feel like I am getting a little bit of a privileged peek into the world of pastors when I help out at these events. I have come to appreciate more and more over the past couple of years the vast array of struggles that faithful pastors can be facing. It makes me so sad when I see and hear of faithful pastors who are being mistreated in ways small and large. And as I get to meet more and more of these men, I feel privileged to pray for them as individuals instead of just as an amorphous cloud of pastors.

We, as laypeople, need to encourage our pastors. We need to tell them when we get some new insight from a sermon. We need to pay them a living wage, and preferably more. We need to recognize that they have a huge responsibility--the care and feeding of souls--and support them in that. We need to encourage our pastors to take advantage of opportunities to be in the company of other faithful pastors. If there is a financial impediment to this happening, maybe we could forgo a night out and allow our pastor this oasis. We should also support our pastors by studying and learning, reading our Bibles, knowing our Confessions, and being Lutheran. And, it should go without saying, we should pray for them and their families.

Praise, My soul, the King of Heaven
By: Henry F. Lyte, 1793-1874

Praise, my soul, the King of heaven;
To his feet your tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Evermore His praises sing;
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise the everlasting King.

Praise Him for His grace and favor
To His people in distress;
Praise Him still the same as ever,
Slow to chide, and swift to bless:
Alleluia, alleluia!
Glorious in His faithfulness.

Father like He tends and spares us;
Well our feeble frame He knows;
In His hand He gently bears us,
Rescues us from all our foes.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Widely yet His mercy flows.

Angels, help us to adore Him;
You behold Him face to face;
Sun and moon, bow down before Him,
All who dwell in time and space.
Alleluia, alleluia!
Praise with us the God of grace.

Some good reading

If you are in the mood for some good Lutheran reading, you should go check out the blogs at The Brothers of St. John the Steadfast.

Just what I needed...more must-read blogs.