Worship At A Funeral

I’ve been a worship leader for over 20 years. I’ve led worship for small groups, large conferences, and churches of all sizes. I’ve been in churches in other countries where they didn’t speak the same language and yet I recognized a melody and worshipped as one with my brothers and sisters. On Wednesday, however, I experienced a type of worship that moved me in a way like no other service before.

You see, Wednesday, April 14, 2010 was my mother-in-law’s funeral. I had an unfamiliar vantage point as I sat in the family area instead of the minister’s area. I’ve been in attendance at far more funerals than most people ever will. I’ve conducted funerals as a minister, performed in song, and assisted others. On occasion I’ve even sat in with my own family at services for grandparents and other relatives. I’ve done services for saints and sinners and stages in between; for friends and strangers; for youth and seniors. As my rambling suggests, I’m no stranger to worship or funerals. But this day would prove to be one of those moments when God allowed me to experience something new.

We sat as her pastor opened the service. Next began the first song. It is about then that I realized something was different. As the music began people started to lift their heads instead of hanging them. Next came the reading of the obituary and scripture. Then it happened. The familiar strains, the tender lyrics, "… I can only imagine, when that day will come…” It was then I noticed it. My wife and her sisters began singing along. Softly at first; then building. Next I saw a hand lift and began to hear my niece behind me joining in. Before long the entire section was enthralled in worship.

I don’t mean the Sunday morning mumble the words or sing with no conviction. I’m talking lost in bliss, healing, stress relieving worship. Now this may not mean much to you, but as the old Spiritual says, “You don’t know like I know.”  You see as recently as 2 years ago not all of my wife’s family was in church. As a matter of fact, some of them had no desire to go or even consider it. But slowly over the last year or so, God began moving. I’d like to say it was some earth shaking moment where they had a vision of God or were struck blind on the road to Damascus; but it was the simple, loving invite of friends and family that got them to visit. From there it was growing in God, until just a few months ago I had the opportunity to minister at a church with my wife’s entire family worshipping together. Which brings us back to Wednesday.

Having seen where they came from, and knowing first hand the sudden, painful loss of their mom shouldn’t result in worship; but when God is the Lord of them, that is exactly what happens. As I sat awed by the powerfulness of the moment, I felt the impression that this is what real worship is. People who have lost something praising a God who has everything. Not concerned about impressing people – or even God, but rather crying out from the depth of a heart full of praise. A heart in steady relationship with a living God. Confident that, come what may, He is worthy to be praised. This is the only life I know, and I can imagine no other.