This article urges Christians to refrain from allowing funerals to be replaced by celebrations of life.
A celebration of life evades the inescapable fact that there’s been a death.
Instead of an acknowledgement of that they become “post-mortem roasts for non-celebrities.”

Jason Allen isn’t against laughter and a sense of lightness, but any lightness should come from the sustainable source of Jesus’ victory over death.

[Funerals] force us to consider soberly what comes after the finality of death. The preacher of Ecclesiastes tells us, “It will be well with those who fear God” and that “It will not be well with the wicked.” These contrasting truths follow the preacher’s comments on the burial of the wicked. Once praised in the city, presumably praised at their burial, this wicked person is now dead—and what matters now is whether they feared God.
Does this mean all funerals should be dreary and depressing? Of course not. Instead, their emotional tenor should be appropriately attuned to the sad reality of death, even as it’s considered alongside the joyful remembrance of the dead.
After all, death is God’s enemy. Paul tells us as much in 1 Corinthians 15:26. But it’s an enemy that has already been defeated by the resurrection of Jesus. What better venue than a funeral to highlight this glorious truth?

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Following Jesus alongside others provides encouragement and the example of other believers in situations similar to our own.
If encouragement gives way to comparison we can succumb to feelings of failure and lack of worth, not because of any inadequacy in us, but because we’re not the same as someone else.
And God has not created us all to be identical, or to respond to every dark valley the same as every other Christian.

From Rebecca Reynolds:

In the midst of fear, we also need to be careful about comparing our emotions with the emotions of others. In groups of nonreligious people, you will find some who are naturally bold. Certain personalities are just born risk—takers, not prone to thinking through consequences. Then there are rationalists who rarely allow themselves to be driven by feelings of any sort. Strategy is their default, not their instinct, so panic doesn’t hit them in the same way as it might hit a feeler. Feelers, on the other hand, may find themselves moved quickly and easily by circumstances or emotions. Tranquility isn’t on the emotional playlist as often as excitement, giddiness, sorrow, and fury.
Some of these inborn personality differences are impacted by personal choice, but chemical and genetic factors also come into play. God makes some people with a high natural capacity for analysis, others with a high natural capacity for risk, others with a high natural capacity for sensitivity. Instead of feeling pride or shame over our wiring, we can just acknowledge our defaults, seeing them as tools in a toolbox. We can acknowledge the pros and cons of our personalities and then ask God how he wants us to move forward.
So if you struggle with fear while someone in your religious community brags about his or her boldness, don’t let that comparison go too deep. This difference might not result from spiritual maturity so much as chemical capacity. And besides that, you serve a God who isn’t limited by your fear. In fact, it’s possible that your inborn sensitivity is vital to the specific work God has prepared for you.

Rebecca K. Reynolds, Courage, Dear Heart, Navpress, 2018, pgs 101-102.

Went to the funeral of a remarkable man who died too young.

He liked a particular movie. Music from it featured at the service.

I watched the movie again.

It revolves around a historical event and focuses on creativity, determination, daring, and heart. Just like the man whose life we gave thanks for this morning.