From one point of view, the communities in which I have lived have had more similarities than differences. I’ve never lived outside of the United States, I’ve never lived in the south. In fact my four years of school in Chicago and the years we’ve lived in South Dakota are the only times I when I have lived in a state that didn’t have Canada on its northern border. I’ve lived in places with plenty of neighbors who have Scandinavian heritages.

Still, I have noticed many differences in funeral customs and practices over the years in the places that I have lived. Growing up in a small town, I had never attended a funeral that wasn’t held in a church until I had moved to Chicago. In fact, I don’t even know if the funeral director in our town had a chapel. I can’t remember ever being in the office or preparation area in my home town. Everyone knew who the funeral director was. I know where their home was, but when we went to a funeral, it was always in a church. That’s the way we did things in my home town. I remember our pastor saying that it was important that our church was a place for funerals for those who didn’t have churches because those people needed a place. I don’t think that was an exclusive role played by our congregation. There were probably other churches in town who also welcomed those who were not members, but it implied that there were some who wouldn’t do a funeral for someone who didn’t belong.

The earliest death in our family that I can remember is that of my Aunt Florence. She was my great aunt, but she and her husband were close to our family and lived in our town. She died unexpectedly of a heart attack and I remember people being sad and gathering in our home. I can’t remember anything about a funeral service. When I think back, I am a bit surprised that I can’t remember anything about my maternal grandfather’s death or funeral. I can remember Pop, a bit, but nothing about his time of dying. It is possible that we children didn’t attend the service, but we went to church enough that it is also possible that I was there and simply don’t remember it as a distinct event.

There are, of course, a lot of funerals that I remember. As a student, I became one of the primary buglers for military rites in our home town, and I’ve played taps at quite a few funerals over the years, including those for people who were pretty close to my own age. As a pastor, I’ve been the officiant at hundreds. I’ve participated in funeral rites for infants and people who lived past 100 years, and plenty of folks in between. As a member of our local outreach to survivors of suicide, I’ve gone to a few more. I have attended funerals as a chaplain and have a bit of a reputation as a pastor whose church is open and available to those who have no church home. Over the years, I have officiated at plenty of funerals held in funeral homes and chapels and several that were held on ranches and other open country locations. I know the routine of a ranch funeral, and the readings for an empty saddle ceremony. I’ve even flown missing man formation in an airplane for a funeral.

It is common in our community for families to have a “viewing.” It is usually held at a funeral home and the family sits or stands in a room with a casket, often open, with the deceased person dressed and made up to be viewed. Friends and relatives of the mourners come to offer their condolences. The viewing is generally a couple of hours long and often is concluded with a short memorial service. Sometimes the sharing of stories of the one who has died is completely informal. Other times it is part of a memorial service. I’ve often led a brief family service that is intimate and aimed at the closest relatives.

The tradition has its roots in a couple of different traditions. The first is that of a wake. In many cultures, the body of the deceased person was kept at home, or sometimes taken to a funeral home, and it was attended around the clock until it was buried. Family members would sit with the body, share stories, and often food and receive guests and condolences. In some times and places, wakes become elaborate events with a lot of food brought in, no small amount of alcohol consumed, and songs and stories shared around the clock. In other places, wakes are more somber and have long periods of silence with prayers and quiet remembrances.

In Jesus time in the warm climate of the Mideast, burials took place as soon as possible after death occurred. The body was washed and anointed with perfumes or oils, usually by women of the family. It was then placed into a tomb, often a cave or other place. The period of mourning continued after the burial as friends and relatives arrived and offered their condolences. Jesus’ arriving after Lazarus’ death was part of a normal sequence of events in a place where travel was by foot and the body needed to be dealt with before the guests arrived. That tradition survives in many forms to this day. “Sitting Shiva” is the practice of receiving guests during a week-long period of mourning. Comforters are obliged to care for the mourners and provide food during this time.

In the case of Jesus, the arrival of the Sabbath, which began at sundown, prevented the women from washing and attending to the body. Joseph of Arimathea received permission from Pilate to remove Jesus’ body from the cross. He wrapped it in the shroud and placed it in the tomb he had prepared for his own burial and the body was placed in the tomb to await the ritual washing and anointing that would take place at dawn on the day after the Sabbath.

Of course, we know the story. We know that things didn’t follow the expected course. We know about the resurrection. But the mourners, Mary his mother and Mary Magdalene, the disciples and others had a time of waiting and mourning and telling stories and remembering.

On Wednesday of Holy Week, even though Maundy Thursday and Good Friday lie ahead, we remember the family and friends of Jesus in their time of mourning and uncertainty.

Today is not a day of answers or resolution, but a time to sit with the reality of grief and loss. It is also time to care for those who mourn - to feed them - to make sure they drink plenty of water - to offer a tissue - and to not leave them alone. So we gather and sit together and tell the stories. It is the least we can do for each other.

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