Life Before Winter

I‘d already agreed to preach the funeral when my phone rang. The deceased was a 16-year-old girl who’d been killed in a fiery car accident. Like 90 percent of the memorial services I officiate as chaplain for funeral homes, I had never met the deceased or her family.

Now the funeral home director was calling again, with two requests: Would I be present when the parents viewed the body, and would I baptize her charred remains?

The first question wasn’t a problem; the second was definitely outside my comfort zone and theological tradition. Instinctively, I knew the importance of my answer. If I said yes to both, how would my theologically correct friends respond? But if I immediately said no to the second, how could I hope to minister to the grieving parents?

Framed in those terms, my decision was not as difficult. I said yes, and met the parents at the funeral home to view the remains. Before baptizing her body by sprinkling, I gently explained to the parents that baptism is an outward sign of a spiritual reality, and that only God knew what was in their daughter’s heart.

Later that night, I sat on their deck learning about their daughter. After we finished, the dad asked if I would like to see his daughter’s room. He showed me her cheerleading trophies and pictures of her with her horse.

As we said goodbye, he told me that was the first time he had been in her room since the accident.

Would I have been invited to share that special moment if I had not baptized his daughter’s body? I doubt it.

An unanticipated ministry

Just over three years ago when I left my previous church, my family and I wanted to stay in Janesville, a beautiful city of 60,000 in south central Wisconsin. We loved the community, we owned our home, and the schools were a great match for our kids, one of whom is disabled.

The challenge was how could I earn a living, be home more, and still have an effective ministry?

As we prayed, the concept of a chaplaincy began to crystallize. I have always enjoyed working with senior citizens, and, although it is an unusual niche, people have often told me, “You preach a great funeral!”

So I began exploring the possibilities. Large assisted living centers had their own chaplains, but many were too small to employ even a half-time position. I wondered, however, if perhaps they could use a chaplain for a couple hours a week. God blessed that idea, and the retirement home side of this new ministry was born.

Then some funeral directors told me about their growing need to find pastors to officiate for families who don’t have a church home at the time of loss. They made it clear they did not want “generic funerals” that could be used for anyone, but rather personalized services that would honor the deceased.

Sensing God’s prompting, preaching funerals for the unchurched became the second facet of this fledgling ministry.

What to call this new chaplain business? We settled on Autumn Life—for although autumn is when life fades, it is also a beautiful season of reflection, and nature’s way of replanting for the future.

In the same way, Autumn Life finds beauty in life among seniors by worshiping Christ with them and engaging them in one-on-one conversation. We also witness spiritual replanting through funerals, honoring the dead while at the same time sharing Jesus’ love with the living.

A God-sized opportunity

Like many, while I was a pastor, I tried lots of ways to reach those who don’t yet have a personal relationship with Jesus, including seeker services, Vacation Bible School, concerts, and Friend Day. Yet I have found funerals for unchurched people give amazing opportunities that I never experienced any other way in 28 years of pastoring.

For many families, I am the first pastor who has ever been in their home, the first pastor who has ever prayed with them, and the first pastor who has ever told them about how they can know God as their loving Heavenly Father.

Not only that, I then have the opportunity to share Christ’s love with hundreds of their friends and family members, most of whom do not go to church.

What would churches give to share the gospel with so many who don’t yet have a relationship with Christ? What would they budget, both in time and in finances?

Now Autumn Life associates spend an average of 90 minutes with the family learning the life story of their loved one, another two hours writing the message, plus the time at the service. Significantly, there is no financial cost for the privilege of sharing Christ with those who attend funerals. Rather, the families pay us for telling them and their friends about Jesus!

Many of our services are for those who family members refer to as “spiritual,” even though they didn’t attend church regularly for whatever reason. Some services are for those others shy away from: suicide and murder victims, inmates, those in the gay community, and those who die of drug overdoses.

Instead of preaching generic memorial services, we take time to find out stories about the deceased that honor their memory, sometimes with laughter, sometimes with tears.

Instead of a straightforward gospel presentation, we come in the back door using a tailor-made story with a punch line. As Jesus said about God’s Kingdom, “To those who can’t see it yet, everything comes in stories, creating readiness, nudging them toward receptive insight” (Mark 4:11, The Message).

As one widow, a self-described agnostic, told me after her husband’s service, “Now I’ll know where to turn when I have spiritual questions.”

During such moments, I thank the Lord for the privilege of giving the warmth and hope of the gospel to those grieving in a time that would otherwise be dark and cold.

Jerry Amstutz is the executive director of Autumn Life in Janesville, Wisconsin. Autumnlife.org

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Pure religion

When I was a teen, my older brother challenged me to memorize the Book of James, which I did. In particular James 1:27 jumped out: “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after … widows in their distress.”

“Pure religion.” That’s what I have found in working with seniors in the retirement homes and memory care centers Autumn Life serves. Picture a 102-year-old man singing “To God be the glory, great things he has done.” Envision wobbly hands carefully taking the bread and cup. Imagine a dear woman on her deathbed, saying in her British accent, “When I see your face, it’s like seeing the face of God.”

On the funeral side of Autumn Life, we minister primarily to the unchurched. When it comes to assisted living centers and memory care units though, almost all who attend our chapel services have a church background: Methodists, Lutherans, Catholics, Baptists, Episcopalians, and Reformed, among others. In fact, one owner says, “Attendance is so good, you’re bigger than bingo!”

In times past, churches took turns conducting services in nursing homes. Now, with the plethora of retirement communities being built, plus the increasing demands of the pastorate, that’s becoming rare. Churches cannot keep up with the need and many long-time attendees are unable to worship with the congregations they love.

That’s where Autumn Life comes in, bringing church to the residents, singing their favorite hymns, praying for their needs, preaching sermons they can relate to, and visiting with them one on one.

Caring for these precious saints has produced unexpected benefits. Staff members who can’t worship on Sundays listen in and grow in their faith as a result. Best of all, one woman who attended church for years told me she had never understood her need to ask Jesus to be her savior. “Now I do and I’ve asked Jesus into my heart!”

Is there any better definition of “pure religion”? —JA