The scriptures of all religions deal with the universal fact of human mortality, and offer insights and encouragement. In the Jewish and Christian scriptures, our Old and New Testaments, we have many passages from which to choose. One of the best known is surely the 23rd Psalm, a Hebrew poem about a loving God who is like a shepherd.

We also may choose a very different kind of passage from the New Testament, in which Paul, a missionary founder of many churches in the first century A D, writes to the new Christians in Corinth, Greece, instructing and reassuring them logically about life after their lives on this earth. From the 15th chapter of I Corinthians:

LET US PRAY:

Everlasting God, we belong to Thee, whose gift is life; by our praise and thanksgiving we witness against the power of death and live in your blessing from generation to generation. Have mercy on us in our sorrow. Grace us with your hope and comfort, and let us find even in our heartache the words to give you thanks for Andrew's young life, to praise you for the blessings of your Spirit that flowed through him and touched his friends and family. Hear and comfort Andrew's parents, and hold them, for their loss is beyond measure. Give courage and hope to Andrew's grandparents and his other relatives who have lost a precious part of their family. Bless Andrew's friends, who are acquainted too soon to grief; help them grow in faith and never lose their trust in you. Show us in your mercy that Jesus hears us and knows our despair, that he cries with us in our anger and pain and will heal us. Give us strength to walk toward thee, trusting, though we do not understand, that nothing separates us from your love. In the name of Jesus our friend, who waits to welcome Andrew and gives us grace to wait in hope for the new day dawning. AMEN.

A funeral is a celebration of the life of someone who has died. It is a sad event, because the person whose life we celebrate is no longer with us in the same way we are used to. But it is not all sad, because we feel he is still with us in so many ways.

A Christian funeral is a service of worship of the God of all our lives, in celebration of the life of one particular child of God whom we love--or admire or respect, or whatever feeling brought each of us to this service. And in this service we celebrate a life which has not ended but which has entered a new stage--a stage we are not in touch with as directly, but which for Andrew is in some ways a more perfect life than even the great life he had with us.

We remember Andrew's love of life, and his love of fun. He could be mischievous. Many of us may remember a prank he played on us. Or his humor could have been as simple as when he led on the encyclopedia salesman, pretending interest until the man finished the presentation and confidently asked if he was interested in buying a set, then watching the man's face as he said no. I remember when he came to our house as a pre-schooler, and I had received a retirement bank one of my friends made for me. I got Andrew to put a quarter in the bank (I don't remember whether his dad supplied the quarter or I did). Well, when the quarter dropped in the bank, it tripped a mousetrap which exploded the bank. Andrew spent most of the rest of the evening getting our son, Bob, to put that bank back together so he could drop the quarter in again. And through the years each time he came, he always went to find that bank and explode it, then put it back together (which he quickly had learned how to do). Even when he was in high school and brought a girlfriend to dinner, he took her to the gameroom and had her put a quarter in my bank before dinner.

Many of you will remember Andrew playing the trombone in the high school band. I remember when he was deciding whether to take up the trombone or the trumpet, which his father had played in the band. He strung his dad along quite a while until he chose the trombone. Even more of you will remember him as an athlete. He was an outstanding track and cross country runner--both locally and in the regionals. If you looked at the pictures on the computer in the hallway you may be struck, as I was, by two things: he was a great physical specimen, and his parents were really proud of him to take so many pictures of him running and winning races. We all remember Andrew's love of nature and the outdoors, and all kinds of outdoor activities such as hunting, fishing, biking and running. Many of us remember Andrew's creativity. He expressed it in many ways, and each of you would have experienced different parts of it. Certainly his humor was creative. One part many of you might not have known was the way he fixed up his grandfather's former shop into a kind of homey retreat that was just his. He didn't just buy the things he needed, he made the windows, he repaired old doors, he fixed up the things he needed and he enjoyed doing it. He would tackle about anything, and figure out how to do it as he went along.

Like so many teenagers, Andrew sometimes had a tough time seeking to find his way, and getting temporarily lost as he was seeking. But he was creative, and talented, and he possessed a spirit which usually pulled him through. After high school he got a job and a jeep, and he especially loved the jeep. Later he got other jobs, and he finally began working at the Texas Roadhouse in Bridgeport, where he began to love his job and the people he worked with almost as much as his jeep. And he was making plans: he was accepted to go to W V U next year, and planned to enroll in R O T C, have a military career and major in Petroleum and Natural Gas Engineering. He had had other plans, on the way to developing this plan; that is only natural. And he may well have developed yet other plans in the future, because he was, as I said, creative and talented and he had a spirit.

It seems impossible for us to understand, rationally, his death. It seems to be an irrational event. We are human, and we will try to understand, because we are human, and we loved him. But there is ultimately no real understanding of an irrational event. It is to be accepted, because it can't be changed. And the really important thing for each of us in our lives is our reaction to the events of life--rational and irrational ones. The corny old saying, "When life gives you lemons, make lemonade", embodies this undeniable truth. We all know instances when good has come out of very bad things. But it has only done so because people have decided to make it happen. History is full of people who have been inspired by tragedy to do something to make the world a better place. Good can come from tragedy, if we make it happen.

Now this is a Christian funeral, so it is a celebration of Andrew's life in the presence of the God and Father of us all. So let me close with one more story and a closing scripture and prayer. Of course we have more than the usual quota of "cute kid" stories we could tell of Andrew's early childhood. Like the time his sense of justice triumphed when he was maybe about four. He had been taught the rule we all know, when you make a mess, you clean it up. Well, the cat spilled its water on the kitchen floor. Neil asked Andrew to clean up the mess, but Andrew knew the cat should do it. So Andrew proceeded to soak up the water by wiping the cat through it. Who can argue with that logic?

We do, all, give thanks for Andrew's life. Let us turn now to God, in worship.

I will read from the eighth chapter of Romans, verses 38-39:

God of mercy, your son Jesus became like us, and lived like us through trouble and sorrow, shock and confusion: Grant us grace to know his compassion, to carry with us his sure sense of our every need. Give us courage to walk with Jesus, who bears our burdens and knows how fragile our endurance is. When we are angry, help us know we have not been forsaken. When we are unforgiving, remind us that you forgive and wash away the hurt. When we cannot be comforted, let us feel your tears on us like rain from heaven. When we think we have failed, remind us that we are bearers of your steadfast love. When we are fearful and unsure, show us the shelter of your wings that stretch beyond our sight. Gather in your embrace all who long for your rest: those in despair, in pain, in fear, and those who cause our hearts to ache. Reunite us in the home you have prepared with Jesus your Son, who came to those with deepest needs and reaches out to bring all people to your joy. In his name we pray. AMEN