Thread by @dfriederichsen

On Saturday I’ll preach the funeral of my friend Tony.
Tony started attending my church, @cpc_shorthills a few months ago. He had been invited by one of our members when they met each other in a local bookstore.

He attended worship several times. We chit chatted after the service. But it wasn’t until we met for lunch that he started telling me his story.

He was eating his food. I asked if everything was okay. He said he can’t taste much of anything. His medications changed the flavor of food. Then he looked at me and I noticed for the first time in his eyes a pale yellow.

“I have liver cancer. Stage 4. I also have a few spots of lung cancer. It all started with colon cancer.”
I was floored.

I asked how serious. He said it comes and goes but that he was in a pretty good spot right then. But the next week he was in the hospital.

He’d go in and out of the hospital over the next several months. When he wasn’t in the hospital I’d see him at church. He asked me about theology, books, my sermons. Wanted to know churches in other towns to recommend to friends.

He said he had taken seminary classes a while ago, but he never finished a degree. He always wondered if he had missed a calling to be in ministry.

He called one day and asked if I could see him in the hospital. He was struggling. He was at Memorial Sloan Kettering in Manhattan. One of the premier cancer hospitals in the world. He had been receiving a somewhat experimental chemo treatment.

But it wasn’t working. The doctors came to him and started to talk about things like “quality of life” vs “quantity of life.” He looked at me, “Pastor, what’s the answer?” I felt a lump in my throat. We read Psalms 22 and 88. We mourned. We grieved. We lamented.

Tony thought he’d still have a long time. But he kept getting worse. His liver was done. He went from the hospital to a hospice facility.

We visited him at the hospice and read scripture and prayed. He said, “I want to join the church. I’ve not been in the church for a while. When can I do that?” I assured him we’d work it out.

The next Thursday my Asst Pastor drove the hour plus drive to visit Tony. When he got back to the office he simply said, “You need to do it soon.” So I called one of my elders. He took the next day off work and we drove up to the hospice.

Tony had stopped eating. He was weak. But we interviewed him for membership. He made his vows. We prayed. And he joined the church. It was a sweet time. I had planned on reading Isaiah 25. “The Lord will swallow up death forever and wipe away every tear.” But Tony said no.

Instead he said, “Read Ephesians 1.”
So I read Ephesians 1.
“I always loved that chapter. ‘Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.’”

I told Tony goodbye and promised to get back up there on Monday. But it snowed on Monday. Tuesday was full, so I figured I’d go up on Wednesday. But Tuesday afternoon his sister called me in tears. Tony had died.

Tonight at our Session meeting we reviewed and approved the minutes from our meeting to interview Tony for membership. We also noted in the evening’s minutes that death has removed him from our rolls. It doesn’t seem right. It was too quick.

His place is firmly in the rolls of the Lamb’s Book of Life. But it was too short for us. It’s not the way it is supposed to be.

On Saturday we’ll gather to say goodbye. I didn’t know Tony well or for long. But I had the awesome privilege of walking with him through the valley of the shadow of death. I got to point him to his Savior. I got to promise him, “Though you die, yet will you live.”

On Saturday I’ll climb into the pulpit at my church & preach from Ephesians 1 about the blessings of the Triune God. May those with ears to hear hear the awesome hope that Jesus Christ has power over sin and death. He will swallow up death forever and wipe away every tear. Amen.