Once we visited with a Christian funeral director in a large city. We found him rejoicing in the great things God had done for him, and he was ready to give an answer to those who might ask him about his hope in Christ. In fact, he seemed to be quite ready to speak for his Lord when the opportunity presented itself.
Our Christian friend told us about many of the religious funeral services conducted in these days. He found most of them very distressing. The dead were generally eulogized, without any indication that they had faith, which is requisite for admittance to those regions of bliss where Christ is the center and the theme. In such services there is no real comfort for the bereaved, nor anything solid on which the living can rest. The flowers and beauty with which death is surrounded only tend to conceal the stark realities of death, while shallow sentiments and empty songs tend to obscure the importance of preparation for leaving this world.
Funerals run the gamut from paganish and foolish rites through ritualistic emptiness, and finally, on rare occasions, to a simple Christian testimony to the faith of the departed and a presentation of Christ to the lost. But preachers who have only empty platitudes, ideas on current world problems, reformation, or psychological panaceas to offer their congregations from week to week, certainly prove their bankruptcy at funerals. There, behind all the beautiful facade, death is as real as ever. A loved one has left this world, never to return, and the living may soon have to pass the same way. Soothing words without the reality of life in Christ neither console the bereaved nor offer hope to the living. At many funerals, it is evident that the speakers are only blind guides leading their followers into an eternal ditch.
But this Christian director told us something more appalling. He said that many real Christian ministers, even some with a reputation for faithful gospel preaching, have given up telling out the gospel at funerals. They no longer present the way of life and the way of death to a company wherein are souls without Christ and without hope. And this is done under the specious plea that they are unwilling to preach the gospel to a "captive audience." By that they mean, people who did not come to hear the gospel, but merely came out of respect to the departed. That these unsaved listeners have invaluable souls which are on the brink of eternity, and that they need Christ desperately, does not move such preachers to present the Lord Jesus as the only way to life. Their false propriety leads to a grave dereliction of duty. We know a dear Christian who recently besought a preacher of some renown in fundamentalist circles to give the gospel at the funeral of a relative, but his plea was refused on that unsound basis of not taking advantage of a captive audience.
In the days of King Ahab of Israel, God espoused Israel's cause against the Syrian oppressors. On one occasion the Syrians were so routed that their king, Ben-Hadad, sought refuge in the camp of Israel, and Ahab, instead of acting for God, sent the enemy away with a covenant of peace (1 Kings 20). He was soon to learn from the prophet who disguised himself and came before him in a disheveled condition that God had sent that enemy to him, and he had failed in not acting for Him against the enemy. It was a most solemn matter for the king of Israel to fail to seize the moment after God had brought Ben-Hadad to him, and the result was that Ahab's life was to be forfeited for the life of the man he let go. Let us just reverse the case, and picture to ourselves certain unbelievers who would never of their own volition attend a gospel meeting, but God so ordered circumstances that they unavoidably found themselves before a man of God who could point them to Christ. Perhaps it was the only time in their life when they had been brought face to face with a man who could tell them they were lost, and that salvation was freely available through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. Shall the servant of the Lord who let them go on unwarned, unprepared to meet their God, and without having been directed to the only Savior of sinners, be accounted guiltless? Shall such palpable neglect be overlooked?
Timothy was told to preach the word "in season and out of season," but he would be circumscribed today by human rules; he would be told that delicate propriety for the feelings of people (many of them on the threshold of the pit) would dictate times when "the word" simply should not be preached. The light would be concealed while people stumble on in the darkness. The rich man in hades (of Luke 16) was so concerned lest his five brothers on earth reach the same dread place where he was that he pleaded with Abraham to let Lazarus go back to warn them. But today even a Lazarus would, under some circumstances, be hindered from warning them. We do not believe that the rich man would have said, But be careful and do not let him warn them if they are a captive audience. Better that they be warned as a captive audience than be captive where the rich man was.
Shall a lifeguard at the beach say, I will not rescue a drowning man unless he signifies that he wishes to be rescued? After all, he is a captive audience, and a victim of circumstances, but is he to be denied rescue for that reason? Is a man on the road that leads to destruction to be denied the hearing of the one and only way of escape simply because he did not expect to hear it at a funeral?
There is much to be said for giving the gospel at funerals. For one thing, it is a conditioned audience that is in attendance. They are sobered by the reality of death. Lightness and levity of spirit that so often hinder reception of the gospel are not apt to be present. And when the departed has been a Christian, what better testimony can be given than publicly telling the grounds of the confidence that the departed had, and how the same is open to all who will accept Christ? Without the Scriptures there is no unlocking of the door to the future, for God alone can draw aside the veil that separates between the living and the dead. The best that an unsaved man can do is to come to the verge of eternity and say, "I am taking a leap in the dark." But it is not darkness to the believer; death is only the vehicle that speeds him to paradise—"Thou shalt be with Me in paradise." When Paul was caught up to paradise, he heard such things that it is impossible to convey them in human language, or to the human mind. That glory so enraptured his soul, that he had a fervent desire to depart this world and be with Christ. (2 Cor. 12:1-4; Phil. 1:23).
Even the telling of the peace, joy, and bliss for the soul and spirit of him who departs this life with faith in Christ, should have an impelling effect on those who have it not. Perhaps they will say, That person has something worth having, something that I should have.
We freely admit that giving out the gospel to those congregated at a funeral should be done with the propriety that is becoming to a solemn assembly. Loud and boisterous preaching would be unbecoming and unseemly. The manner of the speaker should not bring reproach on the very truth he seeks to present, but if a kind and loving setting forth of the only Savior of sinners is objectionable, still, a man of God cannot forbear to speak. Consideration should be shown to the bereaved, and a lengthy service should be avoided. Never should it have the semblance of a harangue. But let not the speaker lose sight of his responsibility to the Lord.
A friend of ours was called upon to conduct a funeral service which he did in faithfulness, and with proper decorum. In the audience that day were a young man and his wife, who were killed in an automobile accident later that same day, and their bodies were brought to the same undertaker. What would be on the speaker's conscience today if he had avoided telling the need of a Savior and the opportunity to accept Him then? Perhaps it may have been used to their salvation ere they were ushered into eternity. And even if they were not saved, the speaker delivered his own soul. That is what Paul meant when he said, "I am pure from the blood of all men. For I have not shunned to declare unto you all the counsel of God." Acts 20:26, 27. He had obvious reference to Ezekiel 33, where we read, "So thou, 0 son of man, I have set thee a watchman unto the house of Israel; therefore thou shalt hear the word at My mouth, and warn them from Me. When I say unto the wicked, 0 wicked man, thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand. Nevertheless, if thou warn the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul." vv. 7-9. Specious pleas, notwithstanding, if he fail to warn them, he is guilty of their blood. What a solemn thought!
Shall the Lord have to say to such at the judgment seat, I sent such-and-such to you to hear the gospel at your mouth, and you altogether held your peace? We know that God has other instruments He can use if some are unfaithful, and that He is sovereign and His purposes will come to pass, yet a servant's responsibility is also clear. Responsibility is commensurate with the place of privilege a servant has. The parables of the pounds of Luke 19, and the talents of Matthew 25 bear witness to this. There we find the servant is not rewarded for his success, but for his faithfulness.