Devon Dick | Those boring funeral sermons
Last month, after preaching at the funeral service for Sandra Brown Bennett, a top sales agent for The Gleaner, at which many media personalities were in attendance, one young editor asked me whether I thought persons were listening to my sermon. He was one who, apparently, did not listen. Sometimes at funerals, whenever the sermon is announced, some mourners go outside and have personal discussions. I responded by asking him how many people are reading his offerings. He got the message that we are in the same boat - a declining readership and listenership.
But some of those same persons might have watched the eight-hour funeral service for the late great USA songbird, Aretha Franklin. Perhaps people want more singing and less preaching. It could be, also, that persons want more performance in the delivery. It is even possible that funeral sermons can be boring, with the use of hackneyed terms, vain repetitions and esoteric rituals. At times, it seems as if some preachers are in love with the sound of their voices and have become a sound, signifying nothing. So it should be conceded that some funeral sermons can be boring and uninteresting.
However, some funeral sermons might even suffer because of audience fatigue. The congregants have been watching and listening for three hours or more and are not alert enough to listen attentively to a sermon.
Instructive sermon
Furthermore, some reporters in the media do not know how to cover a sermon. The quote from my sermon at Sandra's funeral was instructive. Only what I said about her great qualities were reported. But that quote could have been said by anyone. What about the interpretation of the scriptures from the Psalm and how it related to Sandra's qualities? When a preacher exhorts the congregation to love one another, it is not talking about sexual love or just friendly love; it is a divine love which is unconditional and demands that we love the unlovable, because God first loved us while we were strangers and sinners.
However, there is another sense in which funeral sermons can be boring, meaning piercing and probing. In fact, I turned the searchlight on that young editor and asked him whether he did not listen to the funeral sermon because he was afraid to look at his life. A good funeral sermon should remind us of our mortality. It is appointed to each person once to die. Indeed, we are frail and fragile; 'man a dust'. We are like the flower, here today and gone tomorrow.
Furthermore, some persons are afraid to listen to a sermon which deals with the eternal questions of why am I here? What is my purpose? Am I doing what I am best suited for? And what legacy will I leave behind?
A good sermon ought to be boring, meaning piercing and probing. It should get us thinking about our accomplishments and our failures; how we have fallen short of our expectations and the expectations of those who are significant to us. It is a time to give thanks for family and relationships and reaffirm that it makes no sense to gain the whole world and lose our souls. Indeed, it is senseless to acquire wealth selfishly and corruptly, only to recognise that we brought nothing into the world and can take nothing out of the world. Sometimes parents cry to see how their children waste the wealth they have acquired.
Attending a funeral is to hear a probing, soul-searching sermon. It is a time to reflect on the value of family, friends and a right relationship with God as revealed in Jesus.
- Rev Devon Dick is pastor of the Boulevard Baptist Church in St Andrew. He is author of 'The Cross and the Machete', and 'Rebellion to Riot'. Send feedback to columns@ gleanerjm.com.
