I thought I would break my silence. Not so much with another blog, more a diary entry.
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| My sole purpose |
Looking back I see one blog on what I called a "Growing Trend", this about the growth industry of Humanist Funeral Services. But a few days ago I found that the more traditional service was still alive and well! It was the funeral of a cousin of Mrs Dookie, whose name I will change to David in order to protect his complete innocence. I'm the guilty one here.
The service was held at a strict Baptist Chapel, of which David had been a member. In fact, a number of years ago we had attended the funeral service of his mother, memories of which were still seared deep within my mind. Memories of the rather lengthy sermon, devoted not to David's mother, but to the call of Jesus, the weight of our sins, and the various threats to the unredeemed. A old guy had sat at the back of the hall who had awoken every five minutes or so to cry "halleujah" before returning to the land of nod. Fortunately he was absent from this latest service.
Well, just to say, we all knew what was coming, but were bolstered by the memories of the food served on that occasion in the hall behind the Chapel after the service. The sandwiches had been good.
We were given a lift to the Chapel. I had never met the driver before but guessed where his own sympathies lay when he "Praised the Lord" when he managed to nab a parking space in the rather restricted parking area outside. Those arriving later would have their faith tested.
Just to say that though I was not very well acquainted with David, he had often figured large in my mind, purely because he had resembled in many ways an Old Testament Prophet - big beard and flowing locks. Another suggested John Knox.
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| John Knox |
Nevertheless, he came across as a rather quiet, even shy, man. He did have an old red car, what we call in the UK a "bone shaker", parked in his front garden; and I still have nightmares from the one short journey I had made in it. It came through in the sermon that David had spent time with those in prison, helping with letters and suchlike. A good man.
Alas, the rest of the sermon was as it had been before. Not exactly fire and brimstone, but as near enough to make very little difference. No matter that as far as 90% of the congregation were concerned he was preaching to the converted, who made this known by a constant flow of "yes, yes's" and other affirmations. Perhaps the preacher had his eye on others, like myself, those who he was unsure about. And did he have another distant relative of mine in mind, a Jewish man, when he stated that only those who know Jesus could say "our" Father? Who knows?
Well, his sermon was basically a statement of Creed, based upon the "inerrant, infallible Word of God", a word, he asserted, that the "foolish" question. And of other theologies but his own? He could sum them up in just a few words:- "They are all utter nonsense!" A profound insight; and one greeted with many titters of appreciation. I would have welcomed a deeper discussion, but it eventually became time for the sandwiches, and so I welcomed that instead.
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| Utter Nonsense |
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