Yesterday my wife and I went to a funeral of an elderly man who was a long time member of our church.  His name was Frank, and, honestly, we barely knew him, but we know his son and daughter-in-law a little bit more.  When I'm at a funeral of someone who was close to me I'm all about mourning and reminiscing, but when it's someone I didn't know well, my mind inevitably wanders to what I'd like my funeral to be like.  Morbid?  Yes.  Narcissistic? Absolutely.  But I really can't seem to stop my mind from going there.

Of course, one might say, you'll be dead, what does it matter to you what your funeral is like.  This may be true, but some theologians say that the book of Hebrews' reference to a great cloud of witnesses means the souls of the dead are around the living, fully aware of what's going on.  If this is true, trust me, I'll be watching to see that everyone gets this right.  First, I want to be referred to as Adrian (my middle name) or Richard.  "Topper" is fine when it's one of my brothers.  But NOT Rick.  I never liked that nickname.  If anyone calls me Rick at my funeral, I WILL haunt them.  I don't care if the belief in ghosts is unbiblical.

I have long said that I want as many of my former students as possible be there to juggle.  Starting with my three favorite students: my daughters Rose, Naomi and Jona-Lynn.  Then the three who went from being students to disciples to friends: Katrina, Josh and Lauren.  Then any others.  I hope Alex is there because he's probably my most talented.  If he's still committed to agnosticism, so what.  I love that guy.  They should juggle to "Jesus is Victor" by my good friend Fred Shapiro.  However, Fred is 10 years older than me and not in good health, so he may not be there to do it live, but I hope he is.  Watch for flying chairs!

Speaking of music, yesterday's funeral had "Amazing Grace"; pretty standard.  But I want "Beautiful, Scandalous Night" sung on my big day. (Hear it here:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OJ_zoTufzBY )  I first heard this song done by my friend, Pastor Rick.  He, too is 10 years my senior and in fair health at best, so if he's not around to sing it, Dan Jackson, a former counselor at the camp I direct, would be my next choice.

I want people to grieve, but not despair.  I've had to say a lot of good-byes over the years, and good-byes are sad.  Sure, celebrate my life, but realize we won't be seeing each other for a while.  Encourage my family, too. 

I want to be buried, not cremated.  I don't like the heat.  And I want an open casket.  I want everyone there to see this clear reminder that this is how we will all end up.  I want my body to remind people that, without the spiritual, life is short.   I want Matthew 25 to be the Scripture reading: "Whenever you have done it to the least of these, you have done it unto me."  I want people to hear that life is about loving the Lord God with all our hearts and loving our neighbors as ourselves.  Not because we want to be humanitarians or earn our way to heaven, but because that's just how we're meant to live, and by faith in Christ it is possible to move in this direction.   

And I want the closing remarks to go something like this: "You are dismissed to the fellowship hall for bland potato salad and dry finger sandwiches, but don't linger.  There are hungry people to feed, hurting people to comfort and prisoners to visit in the name of Jesus. Go!"

Morbid?  Sure.  Narcissistic?  Yeah, I'm afraid so.  But never let it said that I didn't state my wishes.