Do The Right Thing?

I attended a funeral this week for the sister of one of my homeless guys.

I'd met her a couple of years ago and we had talked occasionally on the phone so when she ended up in ICU a few weeks ago, I went to visit.

It was touch and go for awhile. with her moving to a regular room for 16 hours before landing back in ICU in an even more critical condition.

But before that happened, I had the salvation conversation with her.

Early in the ministry, I'd decided to hold off on that conversation because the guy seemed to be getting better. The next day he took a turn for the worse and never regained consciousness. I vowed never to make that mistake again.

So the first day that Ms. Becky was alert enough to talk, we talked about her relationship with the Lord. She knew where she was going. She wanted to go to a regular room, but she knew if that didn't happen and she didn't make it, that she would be with the Lord.

I shared that during the open comments portion of the funeral.

I hadn't planned on it, but I felt a strong urging to do so.

If there was ever a time to not heed that call, this service was the one. I was definitely out of my element, and was clearly viewed as an outsider.

But I knew that every time I ignore those urgings, I regret it later.

And it needed to be said.

The family drew comfort in my words, I could tell, and it helped celebrate her life.

Her children had arranged this service in a Catholic church about an hour from her hometown so the priests didn't know Ms. Becky and only read the obituary.

It happens.

You always want a minister who knows the deceased, but that isn't always possible.

So I wanted in some way for her loved ones to take comfort in godly words from someone who knew her.

The service itself was a little puzzling, almost paradoxical.

The lady leading music was a friend of the family's. She could've led worship for T.D. Jakes.

I felt a freedom in worshipping that I rarely have. The spirit was moving and if it hadn't been a funeral, I think I'd have been hopping over pews. (For clarity, I'm normally not very comfortable even lifting my hands in worship.)

But the mass itself was traditional, with the usual rituals of Catholicism.

I wasn't completely out of place in a Catholic church, having gone to elementary school in a Catholic school and later teaching in one.

But some of the responses have changed!

I'm answering "and also with you" while they said something about the spirit.

When did that happen?

But the part that bothered me the most was not about the music, or the communion, or the responsive readings.

It was the message given by the priest about how we know Ms. Becky is in heaven.

"We know she is in Heaven because she was a good person...."

My ears perked up. Surely he's going to clarify that...

"This is how you know you are saved...

...do the right thing. Do the right thing. Do the right thing."

While I didn't directly address his words, I did let the congregation know when I spoke that Ms. Becky knew she was going to Heaven because she had accepted Jesus as her Savior.

It was my attempt to salvage a lost opportunity for many of the family members, one who'd even arrived in hand and ankle chains, to hear the message of salvation.

That evening we preached at a men's transitional home and I shared the experience.

"Most of you wouldn't be here if you'd been doing the right thing to begin with, but let me tell you...you can do the right thing from here on out, but if you don't accept Jesus, if you don't KNOW Him, you WILL NOT get into Heaven."

To quote a dear friend, YOU NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU HAVE THAT KNOW-SO SALVATION AND NOT THE HOPE-SO ONE.

Do you KNOW? Or do you just HOPE you are saved?

There's a big difference.

And all the RIGHT in the world is not enough to enter the kingdom of God.