Funeral Sermon for Maurice Murray

Funeral Sermon for Maurice Murray

Text: John 14:1–7 Supporting Texts: 1 Corinthians 15:50–57; Romans 8:18–25

In the name of Jesus, the resurrection and the life. Amen.

Dear family and friends of Maurice,

We come together today with heavy hearts. It is never easy to say goodbye. The longer someone is with us, the more deeply their life becomes woven into ours. Maurice was with you for many years. He was a husband, a father, a grandfather, a great-grandfather, a brother, a friend, a fellow child of God. His death leaves behind a space that no one else can fill.

Grief is the evidence of love. If you find yourself weeping, it’s because he mattered. And God sees that grief. He knows it intimately. Scripture tells us that even Jesus, when He came to the tomb of His friend Lazarus, wept. And if the Lord of Life could shed tears for a friend, then it is no weakness or failure for us to do the same.

But we are not here only to grieve. We are also here to hear something stronger than grief. We are here to listen to a voice louder than the silence of death—the voice of Jesus, who calls us to trust in Him, even now.

The Problem of Death

In 1 Corinthians 15, the Apostle Paul speaks plainly and powerfully:

“Flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God… the perishable must clothe itself with the imperishable, and the mortal with immortality.”

There’s the truth. Death is not just a natural part of life. It is the great enemy. The problem is not merely that we die—but why we die. Death is the result of sin. Not just the world’s sin, not just other people’s sin—but the sin that touches every human heart, yours and mine. “The wages of sin is death,” Paul says in Romans 6.

No matter how strong we are, how long we live, or how much we love, we cannot outrun it. No one gets a pass. Maurice, for all his dedication to family, for all his faithful work, for all the love he gave—you still had to say goodbye. The wages of sin is death.

But that’s only half the story.

The Victory of Christ

Paul continues in 1 Corinthians 15:

“Death has been swallowed up in victory. Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting? Thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

That is the good news. That is our confidence. That is why we can grieve with hope.

Jesus Christ took the sting of death into Himself. On the cross, He bore our sin—every bit of it. He carried the weight of guilt that you and I could never lift. He took Maurice’s sin, too—not in theory, but in reality. On that cross, Jesus died Maurice’s death. And then on the third day, He rose. He didn’t rise in spirit only. He didn’t rise in memory or in story. He bodily rose from the grave.

He didn’t just sneak past death—He defeated it.

So now, for all who are in Christ, death is not the end. It’s no longer a wall that stops us. It’s a door—a doorway into everlasting life with Jesus.

And that victory doesn’t come from a well-lived life, as admirable as Maurice’s life was. It doesn’t come from military service, or faithful work, or kindness, or generosity, or love for family—though Maurice showed all of that. The victory comes from Christ alone.

That’s the gospel. Christ for you. His life in place of your life. His death in place of your death. His resurrection as the guarantee of your resurrection.

The Groaning Creation and the Coming Glory

But in the meantime, we groan.

In Romans 8, Paul writes,

“The whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth…”

You know that groaning. Mourning the loss of someone you love—that’s the groaning. Watching a strong body weaken with age—that’s the groaning. Facing the hard truth of human frailty—that’s the groaning. Even the world around us—so often filled with tragedy, illness, and despair—testifies to the brokenness of this present life.

But Paul doesn’t stop there. He goes on:

“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us… we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.”

Redemption. Not just of our souls—but of our bodies. Jesus didn’t rise from the dead as a ghost, and you won’t either. This is not a vague, spiritual hope. This is resurrection hope. Bodily hope. Concrete, physical, eternal hope.

Jesus is called the firstfruits—the beginning of a great harvest. What happened to Him will happen to all who belong to Him.

That’s what we are waiting for. That’s the promise for Maurice. Not just that his soul is at peace with God now—which it is—but that his body, laid to rest today, will one day rise again. That his eyes will see Jesus—not in faith, but face to face. That he will live again in a world made new—no more sorrow, no more pain, no more death.

And if you are in Christ, you will see him again.

The Way, the Truth, and the Life

In John 14, Jesus speaks these words to His disciples:

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in Me. In My Father’s house are many rooms… I go to prepare a place for you.”

Thomas, ever honest, says what many of us feel: “Lord, we don’t know where You are going. How can we know the way?”

And Jesus answers with the most important truth:

“I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.”

There aren’t many roads to God. There’s one. But it’s wide enough for all who will come. Maurice knew this Way. He trusted in this Savior. And now that Savior, Jesus Christ, has taken him home.

So if your heart is troubled today—and whose isn’t at a time like this?—hear Jesus’ invitation:

“Trust in Me.” Not in yourself. Not in your feelings. Not in your strength. But in the Savior who loved you enough to die for you, and powerful enough to rise again.

We Wait with Hope

So yes, we grieve. Of course we do. But we do not grieve as those who have no hope.

Because Christ lives, Maurice lives. And one day, all who trust in Jesus will live with Him forever. One day there will be a reunion—not just of souls, but of bodies, raised and glorified. One day death will be undone. One day the tears will be wiped away.

Until that day, we wait. But we wait in hope. Because Jesus promised:

“I go to prepare a place for you… and I will come again and will take you to Myself, that where I am, you may be also.”

That is His promise. And Jesus keeps His promises.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.