You will be with me in paradise

Ifeel a need to qualif y what fol lows. In my calling as a Christian minister, I have officiated at more funerals than I can remember. For church members and the unchurched; for hospice patients or fellow citizens of the town; for close friends and for strangers; and for my dear family.

There are times when ministers or undertakers offer elements of funeral services to families who are unsure of what to say at funerals. Sometimes these elements are poems. Some are beautiful as only poetry can be. Some look good on the front or back of funeral bulletins, and are very well intended by loved ones, but which one may take issue with. One such funeral poem ends with the lines: A golden heart stopped beating, hard-working hands put to rest.

God broke our hearts to prove to us he only takes the best.”

The eternal truth is that God does not only take the best. It is lovely, confessional language that honors a lost loved one, but it’s not accurate. We all, in the words of William Cullen Bryant, “join The innumerable caravan which moves To that mysterious realm where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death.” Everyone dies and God takes us all: Lazarus whom the Lord loved, and the thief who was crucified next to Jesus.

God takes us all. And God takes us each.

Years ago, I drove a school bus for RISD. It was my first drive alone, without the superintendent who had shown me the route. I was coming in on 908 and mistakenly passed a waiting, small student. After maneuvering back, I picked him up. The next day, to be sure I didn’t miss him again, I saw him way up the road, next to his driveway, jumping up and down and waving both arms wildly to make sure I didn’t miss him again.

It reminds me of a story of a very religious family. The father would often ask his children to share in their own words about their relationship to Jesus.

One day, his seven-yearold Jimmy told his version of Heaven. “One day, when we all get to go to Heaven, an angel will read from the big book all the names of the people who should be there. After each name called, the person will say, ‘Here!’” He continued, “And finally that big angel will read my name, Jimmy Rogers, and because I’m little and maybe he’ll miss me, I’ll jump and shout real loud, ‘Here!’ to make sure he knows I’m there.”

Just days later there was a tragic accident. Jimmy was struck by a car and carried by ambulance to the hospital in critical condition. The family was summoned. The little group gathered around the hospital bed in which now lay a child with no consciousness and no hope of recovery. The doctors had done all they could. Now the family prayed and waited.

Late in the night there was a moan from Jimmy’s bed. They all moved closer. They saw his lips move; just one word came from him, but it was enough to give comfort and hope to his mother and father, sister and brother. In the clear voice of a small boy, loud enough so all could hear, Jimmy said, “Here.” That was the end. Somewhere up above, an angel was reading names from a big book.

God takes us all. “And I saw the dead, great and small, standing before the throne, and books were opened (Revelation 20:12).

But God is a loving and personal God who also takes us each. This day, you will be with me in paradise.”