Another small-town Southern funeral

This past week was a hard one for our little church. Bobbie Jean Dean, our long-time piano player and women’s Sunday School teacher unexpectedly passed away. Even though she was in her early 80’s, her death was startling, and has left a huge void in our hearts and in our small congregation. A stroke … and perhaps a series of strokes, took her away from us this past Wednesday morning. In less than two weeks, she went from healthy and living at home, and doing all the things she loves, to a hospital bed, and then to heaven. As hard as that is for those of us left behind, in truth … that isn’t a bad way to go. The Lord graciously took her on to Glory, without her suffering or having to endure the long-term consequences of an illness. 

But still … it hurts. And it hurts bad. Death is a cruel and heartless enemy that separates us far to soon from those we love. I am grieving. The family is grieving. Our church is grieving. This happened so suddenly, we really have not had time to process this loss. And yet, when death came … our church family does what it always does – we lean on each other and bear that awful burden together. I witnessed yet again, the love of Christ on vivid display by church member and community alike.

Within hours of her passing, neighbors and friends began taking food by the Dean home. Text messages and phone calls were made, and tearful prayers were sent up to heaven in the behalf of this family. By early afternoon kinfolk began to arrive and gather in the family home. Our church canceled our mid-week service and gathered with them and mourned together. Fried chicken, mac-n-cheese, baked beans, rolls, collard greens and much more filled their countertops and our bellies. By the next day, the family had more food than they knew what to do with. I am not sure there is any hard evidence that fried chicken relieves a broken heart, but it certainly doesn’t hurt any! 

With as much confidence we mortals can have that our loved one is truly in a better place; the family held their heads high and found peace that Ms. Bobbie was safe in the arms of Jesus. Her lifetime of faithful committed service to Christ and His church, gave us all full assurance that she was indeed absent from the body, but present with her Lord. 

On Saturday, our church opened our doors and had the painful privilege of hosting her funeral. The building was packed with people, which would have thrilled Ms. Bobbie’s heart. Anyone who knew can tell you; she considered church attendance a priority, and she loved to see her family in those pews. Her nephew, Pastor Danny Evans, shared many warm memories of growing up around the Dean family and the godly example his Aunt Bobbie was to everyone. Another nephew, Paul Wilson, ably sang a couple of Ms. Bobbie’s favorite songs and moved most of us to tears. As her pastor, I had the solemn honor of speaking at her service. And while there are no “easy funerals,” some are easier than others. Bobbie Dean, having been a stalwart of the faith and a committed Christian for many years, made my task much easier. 

I spoke much of her faithfulness to the Lord Christ and this church. Whether playing the piano, teaching Sunday School, cleaning the building, organizing the annual ladies retreat, or taking care of the flowers at the building, this lady worked and served King Jesus. I tried to remind the family of their God-given responsibility to follow her example and commit their lives to following hard after Christ. For He indeed is worthy! No, she wasn’t a perfect woman, but she had a perfect Savior, and she wanted all people everywhere, and especially her family to know Christ and the power of His resurrection. 

At the close of the service, the very talented Mrs. Margaret Watson, played wonderfully on the piano and ministered to us through music. As we have done at many nursing home services and far too many funerals, we stood and sang; “It Is Well with My Soul.” A fitting hymn for those, like Ms. Bobbie, who have walked with Christ through the brutal ups and downs of life, and yet cling to Christ through it all. 

As we exited the parking lot, I noticed some folks across the street, who are close friends of the Dean family, standing with their hands over their hearts as we passed by their business. (That’s when I started to cry.) Our local police department, with lights flashing and sirens sounding, escort us to the graveyard. And while they do … people do what they do here in the South, they pull their cars off to the side of the road to show respect to the family. If there is anything that makes me proud to live in a small southern town it is that. If a town ever gets too big and the people too busy, to stop for a few moments to honor the dead, then I don’t wanna live there. 

At the graveside, we said some words, prayed with the family one last time, and then laid her body to rest beside her husband and just a few graves away from their son. And there, her body will remain, until that last trumpet sounds and that great resurrection morning dawns when the King of Kings returns. 

In many ways, this was your average ordinary small-town southern funeral … however … Bobbie Jean Dean was anything but an average ordinary woman. She was a Proverbs 31 woman. A truck-driving, sharp-tongued woman who loved Jesus and her family fiercely. She was a woman who devoted her life to serve her Lord and her loved ones, and sadly that isn’t all that common anymore. This was a woman who entered heaven and heard her Lord say, “well done, thou good and faithful servant” … and there is nothing ordinary about that at all! Thank God for the privilege of knowing this godly lady and sharing some of life with her. 

Let me close by asking … what legacy will you leave behind? Because one day dear friend, you too will die. From dust we were all created and to dust we will return. At some point, folks will gather around your lifeless body and say some words. What will they say? Will they have confidence you are truly better off? Maybe the building will be packed at your funeral? Maybe the preacher will say some good things about you? Maybe strangers will pull to the side of the road when the hearse passes? But what ultimately matters is whether you are a Christian and enter into heaven when you die. Will you? You need to know the answer to that question. 

I am thankful for fried chicken and small-town southern funerals … but I am more thankful to know death doesn’t win in the end, and one day we will see Bobbie Dean again.