The Funeral of Carol Maron

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

One of the times that I saw Carol in the hospital in the last handful of weeks, I shared with her the words of Revelation chapter 7 which we heard a few minutes ago. When I finished the reading, Carol specifically commented on her love for the passage—The great multitude which no one could number standing before the throne of God and before the Lamb worshipping God. And what a beautiful image this is to hold before our eyes on this day. It is a picture which Carol held dear in this life, as she no doubt pictured in that very multitude the faces of her own father and mother, loved ones, and friends who preceded her in death. Imagine getting a glimpse into the throne room of heaven—and there are the faces of your loved ones who have died in the faith! One can hardly imagine a more beautiful picture! And now that the Lord has seen fit to take Carol away from this world, we have the opportunity to picture her face in that great multitude.

The thing about this beautiful picture from Revelation chapter 7 is that is comes in the midst of a very depressing and sorrow-filled section of the Revelation. The apostle John is a prisoner in exile on the island of Patmos. As he is worshipping on a Sunday, the Lord gives him a glorious vision of the resurrected Christ and of the throne room of heaven. But then, he is brought back to reality. The seven seals are opened, and he witnesses death, destruction, and evil coming upon the earth. But then there is an interruption, and John sees an even more glorious vision. No longer does he see the throne room and the Lamb only. He sees the throne room filled with people—

A great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:9-10).

This, indeed, is a more glorious vision than the first vision of Revelation chapters 4 and 5. There St. John saw the victorious Lamb, who had conquered death and the grave—our Lord Jesus Christ—who was surrounded by the angelic chorus only. But this is not why Christ suffered the pains of the cross. He did not defeat death and the grave so that He might merely earn the praise of the angels of heaven. Our Lord Jesus Christ went to the cross for Carol. He suffered the pains of hell for Carol. And He rose from death for Carol, so that she might join the heavenly chorus in singing eternal praises to Him.

The beauty of this picture from Revelation chapter 7 is that this multitude is where Carol belongs. She knew this and confessed it with her words and deeds throughout her life. That’s why you could hardly find a time when Carol was not here at church receiving Christ’s gifts and serving the needs of His people. For she knew that on this side of glory, the church is where she belonged.

But Carol did not belong at church because of the many things that she did and the ways that she served. Carol belonged at church because this is where Christ’s saints gather. This is where we hear the message of Christ crucified—that salvation belongs to our God and to the Lamb who has gone to the cross for our salvation. This is where we gather around the altar to be as close as we can be on this side of glory to the great multitude around the throne, as we sing praises to our God and receive the Sacrament of the Altar with angels and archangels and, indeed, with all the company of heaven. To put it simply, Carol was so dedicated to her church because this is practice for eternity. Apart from Christ’s gifts of grace, there is no way to salvation, as we heard from our Lord’s very own words:

“I am the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me” (John 14:6).

So, thanks be to God that Carol knew that she belonged here in the Church. Thanks be to God that she was one of those who in Holy Baptism was washed and made white in the blood of the Lamb (cf. Revelation 7:14). Thanks be to God that Christ her shepherd has led her to fountains of living waters and that He has wiped away every tear from her eyes (cf. Revelation 7:17). For the suffering of this life is great. And especially in her last days Carol had more than her share of suffering as she was in and out of the hospital with sicknesses and ailments of various kinds. But now her face is there in heaven, in the great multitude that no one can number, awaiting the resurrection on the last day.

And so it is that this day is not a sad day for Carol. For she has left behind the suffering and sorrows of this life, and she has come unto the joys of heaven and the presence of our Lord Jesus Christ. But, on the other hand, today is a sad day for those of us who Carol has left behind. Her death has taken her away from us, which is her gain but is certainly our loss. We will not see her again on this side of glory. And so, her death leaves in our hearts and lives a gaping hole.

And so, dear family and friends of Carol, it is good and right that you allow yourselves to mourn this day. For death is evil. It is not natural. It is not the way that God intended things to be. And yet, it is the rightful wages of sin. For you are a poor sinner in need of mercy as was Carol. That’s why she is dead. And that’s why you, too, will die. The wages of sin is death. We are right to mourn this and all that death takes away from us.

But thanks be to God that in His mercy, death is not the end. Our sorrow will not remain forever. For Christ has departed to prepare a place for us (cf. John 14:2-3). He has suffered death and hell so that through faith in Him you can look forward to a joyful reunion with Carol and with all those who have died in Him.

For now, the pattern of our lives is that which we see in the apostle John—suffering and isolation, followed by the joys of Christ’s gifts in the Divine Service. But then we go back into the world, and we see and experience death, destruction, and evil. And so, we come back again to the altar to glimpse that great multitude of which we long to be a part.

Dear family and friends of Carol, life in this world is hard. Your hearts will be troubled, especially as you navigate the coming days, weeks, months, and years without your wife, your mother, or your dear friend. There will be sorrow and difficulty. In a sin-filled world, there is no way around it. But I pray that you would ever hold this picture of the great multitude before your eyes, seeing Carol’s face in it. And I pray that you will regularly come to the altar, that you may be joined, as closely as we are able in this life, to Carol and the rest of that great multitude, that you may be reminded of the great hope that we have in Christ. For sorrow is not the end of this life. The day is coming when God will wipe away every tear from your eyes. May you ever live in hope and expectation of that day until it becomes a reality in Christ and you are joined with Carol in that great multitude for all eternity.

In Jesus’ name. Amen.