P.O. Box 53055    
Los Angeles, CA 90053   

SKIPPING A FUNERAL TO FOLLOW JESUS

Here at the Voice of Prophecy, most of our lives are ruled by a little black book. And of course, I mean the Bible first of all — but then a lot of us carry around ANOTHER small black volume which contains a planning calendar for the year. Mine is pathetically crammed full of appointments, phone numbers, meetings I’ve got to get to, various rendezvous I have planned with this blue microphone right here, planes to catch, and on and on. If this little black book says I’m going to be someplace, then I’m going to be there. And thereby hangs a tale . . . which thankfully didn’t happen to me!

David Smith, who’s sitting out by the controls right now, even as we speak, tells me one that happened to him about fifteen years ago. He worked for a sister ministry back then — a Christian television program called It Is Written — and one day his immediate supervisor came to him. “I’ve got you booked,” he said, “to fly to Minneapolis the first week of June and do a family life seminar for ‘camp meeting’ there.” This is a rather common thing around here; many of us spend a good share of the summer months on the road, going from one regional spiritual retreat to the next, doing seminars or preaching on the weekends. And so this appointment coordinator had lined up a week-long set of presentations for David to share.

Well, David pulled out his little black book — not the Bible, the other one — and after a moment, said to the boss: “I can’t go.” “What do you mean, you can’t go? You ARE going.” And David shook his head. “My daughter Kami is graduating from eighth grade that weekend. I can’t go.”

And right there, standing in the hallway, they began to get into it. This man had already lined up the event; it was set in concrete. This was the Lord’s work. He had to go. “Don’t argue with me.” And he honestly believed that his fellow employee should skip his child’s graduation in order to cover this trip.

And finally, David, as calmly as he knew how, told his supervisor: “Steve . . . I appreciate what you’re saying. But the plain reality is that I cannot — I WILL not — miss my child’s graduation service. I won’t do it. If push comes to shove, I simply cannot go.” By now there was a bit of temperature in the room, and the blood was flowing warmly through the veins, as we say. And they stood there, staring at each other.

Well, the good news is that David called the folks in Minnesota, he managed to squeeze all of his family life presentations into a Monday-through-Friday morning format, he hopped on a plane back to California, and he was sitting on the front row as they played Pomp and Circumstance for his kid that weekend. All’s well that ends well. But it brings us right back to this set of very tough stories in the New Testament where Jesus seems to say to His followers: “You have to put Me first. You have to skip graduations and weddings and be out in the highways and byways and prayer meeting services for Me instead.”

In fact, here’s probably the toughest imaginable application of this theological principle. Matthew chapter eight, verse 22. Christ and His disciples and a big crowd of would-be followers are standing on the shore of Galilee as He teaches. He’s getting ready to cross over to the other side, when a very sincere man cries out:

“Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.”

That’s very nice, but Jesus warns him:

“Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay His head.”

In other words, it’s not going to be a picnic. The Message paraphrase has Jesus asking him:

“Are you ready to rough it? We’re not staying in the best inns, you know.”

But now get this one. A second man with a traveler’s lust in his eye and his passport in his pocket says to Jesus, “Lord, I’ll go with You, but first let me go home and bury my dad.”

Does that sound reasonable? If we should skip a church meeting in order to go to our kid’s graduation, how much more should we be obligated to attend our father’s funeral? Honor thy father and thy mother, right? Jesus once lit into the church leaders who selfishly pronounced Corban, a temple dedication, over their money and their estate so they wouldn’t have to care for their aging parents. So shouldn’t this man attend his father’s memorial service before getting into a boat with Jesus? But here’s the Master’s answer:

“Follow Me, and let the dead bury their dead.”

And friend, that sound awfully cold. There’s no two ways about it. Don’t go to your dad’s funeral. Don’t attend to your family. Just get into the boat right now, ‘cause we’re leaving for the mission field and then the Promised Land. How do we square this with the Fifth Commandment and a person’s duty to his or her family? As Luke tells this same story in chapter 9, a third man says to Jesus, “I’ll follow You, sure, but at least let me go home and say GOODBYE to my family.” Even to him, Jesus says no; the plane is boarding all rows right now.

“No one who puts his hand to the plow,” He says, “and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”

Well, let’s prayerfully get right into this line: “Let the dead bury their dead.” Obviously the dead CANNOT bury their own dead; that’s a physical absurdity in itself. So what is our Lord really saying?
The NIV text notes for this Matthew passage suggest:

“Let the SPIRITUALLY dead bury the physically dead.”

In other words, let people who weren’t interested in the kingdom of God, who didn’t care about the Messiah’s teaching and about discerning spiritual things . . . let THEM handle the rituals like funerals. This man had more important things to attend to. Did you know that in Old Testament times, if a man took a Nazirite vow, which meant that coming in contact with a dead body defiled him, he had to even avoid the corpse of his own parents. That’s right. You can read that in Leviticus 21 or Numbers 6. So there was such a thing as choosing God even over the funerals of your parents.

Here’s a second slice of understanding for us to think about. In the commentary books pastors in my faith community often use, the scholars make this observation:

“In all probability the father was currently enjoying good health, and the time of his death was indefinitely in the future.”

That’s a new thought, isn’t it? Possibly this man was saying, “I’d like to go, but as long as my folks are still around, I’d better not.” The scholars continue, and this is excellent, but a bit long, so bear with me:

“If the man’s father was not dead, but very much alive, Christ’s words must be taken figuratively, not literally. Probably this would-be follower’s request was either an excuse for not following Christ at all or an attempt to postpone the time when it would be necessary to forsake all to follow Him. If the father were already dead, it is extremely unlikely that Christ would have ordered the neglect of what, in [Asian] lands even today, is considered one of the most sacred duties devolving upon a son. Furthermore, in a warm climate the burial of the dead is performed without delay, and if, indeed, this man’s father had died, it is most improbable that he would have been listening to Jesus. Obviously, both the man and Jesus anticipate the father’s death at some future time. This man was overcautious as the first man was overenthusiastic. He said to Christ, as it were, ‘I would like to follow you, but I cannot do so while my father lives.’ In reply, Christ said to him, so to speak, ‘I fully recognize your obligation to your parents; nevertheless, your obligation to the kingdom of heaven takes precedence even over that.’ The claims of the gospel transcend those of family ties — not that the latter are relaxed in the least, but rather that they are not to be made an excuse for failing to heed Christ’s call to service.”

Let me back up to our opening story — in reacting to what we’ve just studied here in this passage. But friend, if Jesus really did call you to a task, and the kingdom of heaven truly did need you and only you — no one else would do — then you should skip your child’s graduation to do God’s work. I mean that. If God’s army is in the thick of a battle, and God unmistakably taps you on the shoulder and says, “I need you, right now, right here, at this place in the battle line,” then you should pass on going to your father’s funeral. You should be instead in the place God has set up for you. After all, when it’s all said and done, for those who are faithful, we can always attend a Resurrection instead of a funeral.