Funeral Sermon For A Difficult Person

Mercy That Outlasts The Hardest Lives

We gather today carrying different things. Some of you carry sorrow that is clean and simple, the grief of losing someone you loved without reservation. Others of you carry something harder to name, a grief that is tangled, complicated, and maybe even mixed with relief or old hurt. Both kinds of grief are real. Both are welcome here. You do not have to pretend in this room.

Death has a way of silencing the noise and forcing us to stand before the truth. And the truth about most human lives is that they are not simple. People are not simple. The person we remember today was a human being, which means they were made in the image of God and marked by the fractures of a fallen world, capable of love and capable of harm, capable of tenderness and capable of stubbornness, like every one of us who stands on this side of the grave. The Bible does not ask us to flatten that complexity. It asks us to bring it honestly before a God who is greater than all of it.

So today we are going to do something that takes courage. We are going to grieve truthfully. We are going to hold human complexity with honesty. And we are going to look to the God who is the only one qualified to speak the final word over any life.

The Mercy Of God In Psalm 103

Turn with me to Psalm 103, beginning at verse 8. The psalmist writes, "The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in faithful love. He will not always accuse us or be angry forever. He has not dealt with us as our sins deserve or repaid us according to our iniquities. For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his faithful love toward those who fear him. As far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him. For he knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust."

That last verse deserves to rest on us for a moment. "He knows what we are made of, remembering that we are dust." God is not surprised by human weakness. He is not caught off guard by our failures or our sins or the damage we sometimes do to the people around us. He made us from the ground. He watched the fall. He has seen every generation of broken people stumble through their years. And still, the psalmist says, his faithful love is as high as the heavens are above the earth. That is not a small distance.

Notice what the psalmist does not say. He does not say God overlooks sin or pretends it did not happen. The text says he has not dealt with us as our sins deserve. That is not the same as saying sin does not matter. It means that something else has entered the equation. Something that costs more than we can pay. The mercy of God is not cheap sentiment. It is a decision, rooted in the character of God himself, to extend compassion to creatures who have no claim on it.

This is the God we are standing before today. Not a God who grades on a curve, and not a God who is indifferent to the harm people cause. But a God who is, as the psalmist says, slow to anger and abounding in faithful love. We can entrust the person we remember today to that God. We do not have to render a verdict. That is not our office. The Judge of all the earth will do what is right, and we can rest in that.

Love That Holds Tension In Romans 12

Now turn to Romans 12, beginning at verse 9. Paul writes, "Let love be without hypocrisy. Detest evil; cling to what is good. Love one another deeply as brothers and sisters. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be lazy in zeal; be fervent in spirit; serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope; be patient in affliction; be persistent in prayer. Share with the saints in their needs; pursue hospitality. Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud; instead, associate with the humble. Do not be wise in your own estimation. Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Give careful thought to do what is honorable in everyone's eyes. If possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone."

Paul opens this passage with a phrase that cuts straight through the temptation we face at a funeral like this one. He says, "Let love be without hypocrisy." The word he uses for hypocrisy carries the image of an actor wearing a mask. Paul is saying, do not perform love. Do not put on a face that does not match what is actually in your heart.

That is a hard word for a hard day. It means we are not required to stand here and manufacture feelings we do not have. It means we are not required to speak words that are not true. Genuine love, Paul says, detests evil and clings to what is good. Those two things belong together. You can hold them at the same time. You can grieve what was lost and grieve what was never given. You can honor a life without pretending it was something it was not.

Paul also says, "Weep with those who weep." That is a command, not a suggestion. If you are weeping today, you are not alone. The body of Christ is called to weep alongside you, not to rush you toward a resolution you are not ready for, not to hand you a tidy conclusion, but to sit with you in the weight of this.

And then Paul says, "If possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone." Notice the limits built into that phrase. If possible. As far as it depends on you. Paul is a realist. He knows that peace is not always fully achievable in this life. Some wounds are deep. Some relationships remain unresolved. You are not failing God if you are not at a place of complete peace today. What God asks is that you not carry bitterness as a permanent home, and that you leave the rest in his hands.

The Gospel Word

Here is what I want to say plainly to everyone in this room, because a funeral is one of the few moments when we all feel the weight of mortality pressing down on us.

Every one of us is dust. Every one of us has sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. Every one of us will stand before the same God who knows what we are made of. And the only hope any of us has, the only hope the person we remember today had, the only hope you have, is the mercy of God made visible in Jesus Christ.

Jesus did not come for people who had it together. He came for the broken, the complicated, the ones who had caused harm and the ones who had been harmed. He lived the life none of us could live, died the death all of us deserved, and rose from the grave so that death would not have the final word over anyone who trusts in him. That is the gospel. It is not a reward for the good. It is a rescue for the lost.

If you have never placed your trust in Christ, today is a good day to begin. Not out of fear, not because grief is pressing you, but because what you are feeling right now is real, and the God who meets you in it is real, and the salvation he offers is the only thing that will hold when everything else gives way.

A Closing Word

We leave this person in the hands of God, the only hands large enough and just enough and merciful enough to hold them. We leave our own grief in those same hands. And we walk out of this place carrying what we carried in, but perhaps a little less alone, because we have heard together that the Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in faithful love, and that he knows what we are made of.

That is enough to stand on. Let us pray.

Sources Consulted

Allen P. Ross, A Commentary on the Psalms, Volume 3, Kregel Academic, 2016.

Douglas J. Moo, The Letter to the Romans, New International Commentary on the New Testament, Eerdmans, 2018.

Thomas R. Schreiner, Romans, Baker Exegetical Commentary on the New Testament, Baker Academic, 1998.

Derek Kidner, Psalms 73 to 150, Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries, InterVarsity Press, 1975.

John R. W. Stott, The Message of Romans, The Bible Speaks Today, InterVarsity Press, 1994.