Funeral Sermon for Paul L. Andermann

All Saints’ Day, 2024

Texts: John 11:17-27; 1 Thess 4:18-13

Henry, Rachel, and Gregg, family and friends of Paul, brothers and sisters in Christ, grace to you and peace from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

I’ve been thinking all week about how to incorporate steam power and trains into a sermon.  And this is the best that I can come up with.

Steam power, mechanics, it’s all completely predictable and reliable.  You were telling me how your dad could just look at a schematic and know exactly, precisely what it would do and how it would work.  Yes, machines break, but they break reliably and predictably according to the laws of physics.  And if you know and understand them the way that Paul did, you can fix them.

And in many ways, that’s what your dad was like himself, right?  Completely predictable and reliable.  He had his patterns and his routines.  What you saw was what you got.  No pretensions, no pretending, no putting on airs or trying to be something he wasn’t. Simple.  Straightforward.  Predictable and reliable.

When his pastor wrote his transfer papers from Zion in Hinsdale to Zion in Naperville, and when he had the opportunity to describe your dad’s participation in worship, he wrote “most faithful.” That’s who Paul was.  Predictable.  Reliable. Faithful.

But what happens when life gets unpredictable and chaotic, when sickness and ultimately death throw your world into chaos?

I hadn’t known your dad for very long before Sue died, but my impression was that that event threw him off, and he never really recovered from it.

It’s certainly understandable.  Sue was his beloved wife for 40 years.  They shared in so many joys together, raising children and grandchildren, traveling, opening up their home to dozens and dozens of friends and family on a regular basis.  Life was not the same without her.

And now, your lives have seen that chaos that comes with death once more, upsetting your routines, shaking what you thought was predictable and reliable.

That’s what it was like for Mary and Martha as well.

They thought that Jesus was predictable and reliable.  He had healed so many other people.  It didn’t seem to matter what was wrong, if people were blind, deaf, lame, leprous, Jesus could heal them all!

So, when Lazarus got sick, those sisters knew what to do.  Just call for Jesus.  He had healed everyone else, surely He would heal His good friend, Lazarus.  Surely He would come as quickly as He could and make life normal again.

But He didn’t.  Jesus didn’t come.  And He didn’t come on purpose.  He waited until after Lazarus had died until He showed up there at Mary and Martha’s house. Too late to do any good.  Lazarus had been four days in the tomb.

Martha and Mary both say the same thing to Jesus, “Lord, if you had been here, our brother would not have died.”

They know Jesus’ power, but they question His timing.

But to Mary and Martha, and to all of you gathered here today, Jesus says these words, “I am the resurrection and the life.” 

You know how the story ends for Lazarus. Jesus goes to the tomb and says to the dead man, “Lazarus, come out!”  And he does!  Jesus’ voice has the power to even raise the dead.

A few days after raising Lazarus, Jesus Himself will die, nailed to a cross.  And three days after that, Jesus Christ Himself rose from the dead, proving His words to be true, “I am the resurrection and the life.”

Jesus has power even over the forces of death itself.

And He promises that resurrection to all who believe in Him.  “Whoever believes in me, though He die, yet shall He live.”

That was Paul’s hope, the faith that sustained Him throughout life.  That was the faith into which he was baptized, the faith that he confessed at his confirmation, the faith that kept him coming to church consistently, reliably week after week after week.

Paul knew that he needed Jesus.  Paul could fix just about everything.  Just about.  There’s one thing that he couldn’t fix and neither can you.  And that’s the problem of sin.

Paul was a sinner, just like you and me.  And that’s not something that we can fix on our own.  The only fix, the only solution for sin is the forgiveness that comes from Jesus Christ, from His death on the cross for you.

Because of Jesus’ death and resurrection, we have the hope of eternal life, as Jesus has promised.

And that gives us comfort as we mourn.

It’s okay to be sad today.  It’s okay to cry.

When Jesus went to the tomb of Lazarus, “Jesus wept.”  He knew that in mere moments He would raise Lazarus from the dead.  And still, Jesus wept.

Yes, you can be happy for Paul.  You can be happy that he had a wonderful life.  You can be happy that he’s no longer in pain and suffering.  You can be happy that he’s reunited with Sue and with all of his loved ones who have died in the faith.

But you can be sad that your dad, your grandpa, your brother, your friend is no longer here with you.

But as you mourn, you still have hope. 

This is not the end for Paul.  One day Jesus will return and make all things right. The greatest fixer of all will make this world run perfectly once more. 

For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. 17 Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. 

That is sure.  That is reliable.  That is certain.  Because Jesus is the resurrection and life for all who, like Paul, believe in Him.