Don't be late for funerals

As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave side service in a new cemetery for a derelict man (with no family or friends) who had died while traveling through the area. The funeral was to be held way back in the country at a new cemetery. This man would be the first to be laid to rest at this new cemetery.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost. I didn't take time to stop and ask for directions. And when I finally arrived an hour late, I saw a crew and a backhoe, but the hearse was nowhere in sight, and everyone except for the workers had left, and they were eating lunch.  I apologized for my tardiness, but they just looked puzzled.

I stepped to the side of the open grave, to find the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them long, but this was the proper thing to do. The workers gathered around, still eating their lunches, while I poured out my heart and soul. As I preached, the workers began to say "Amen," "Praise the Lord" and "Glory," (they must have been Baptist.

I preached, and I preached, like I'd never preached before. I began from Genesis and worked all the way through to Revelation. I preached for 45 minutes. It was a long service. Finally, I closed in prayer and it was finished.

As I was walking to my car, I felt that I had done my duty and I would leave with a renewed sense of purpose and dedication, in spite of my tardiness. As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another. "I've been putting in septic tanks for 20 years, and I ain't never seen anything like that before."