Funeral for Ruth Rogers

In one of his books, A. M. Hunter, the New Testament scholar, relates the story of a dying man who asked his Christian doctor to tell him something about the place to which he was going. As the doctor fumbled for a reply, he heard a scratching at the door—and suddenly, he had his answer.

“Do you hear that?” he asked his patient. “It’s my dog. I left him downstairs, but he has grown impatient and has come up because he hears my voice. He has no notion what is inside this door, but he knows that I am here. Isn’t it the same with you? You don’t know what lies beyond the door, but you know that your Master is there.”

Today, we stand in the heavy shadow of sorrow, grieving the departure of someone deeply cherished. As we gather to honor and lay to rest the body of Ruth, we do so with hearts that are both sorrowful and full of hope. We are sorrowful because, from this side of heaven, we lose a friend, a mother, a grandmother, a sister—someone whose presence shaped the rhythm of family life and whose absence will now be felt in quiet and lasting ways.

Yet even in our sadness, we rejoice. Those who knew Ruth best understood that she stood on this side of the door with anticipation and trust, longing to be with her Master. Her life was not marked by fear of what lay ahead, but by confidence in the One who was calling her home.

Death confronts us with our deepest vulnerability. It reminds us how limited our strength and understanding truly are. In moments like this, words fall short, explanations feel thin, and human certainty reaches its end. All that remains is the mercy of God. And how profoundly comforting it is to know that the God we trust is a God of perfect love, infinite wisdom, boundless forgiveness, and enduring patience. Scripture tells us plainly and beautifully: God is love. That truth becomes the anchor we cling to when everything else feels uncertain.

On the night before His death, Jesus spoke words meant precisely for moments like this. He looked at His disciples—confused, afraid, and grieving—and said:

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also.” (John 14:1–3)

These are not abstract words. They are promises. Jesus does not speak of uncertainty, but of preparation. Not of distance, but of presence. He assures us that there is room—room in the Father’s house, room for those who have trusted Him, room prepared by Christ Himself.

When Jesus faced the certainty of His own suffering and death, He also declared with unwavering confidence: “You will leave me alone; yet I am not alone, for the Father is with me. I have said this to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but take heart, I have overcome the world.” (John 16:32–33)

Today, to this grieving family and to friends who feel lost and overwhelmed, Jesus speaks that same assurance: You are not alone. The Heavenly Father is with you. God’s promise is steadfast—He will never leave you nor forsake you.

Consider the difference that assurance made to Jesus in the darkness of Gethsemane. That same assurance sustains us now. What words could be more comforting than the promise that God is near—His presence steady, His hand resting gently upon those who mourn?

If there were no God, despair would overwhelm us. Without Jesus, there would be no lasting consolation, no strength beyond ourselves, no hope that reaches beyond the grave. But we are not abandoned to fear. We are called instead to trust in the God who is faithful.

Jesus reminded us that the body is not the final word. Too often, we live as though this life is all there is, as though the physical world is ultimate. Scripture gently corrects us. We are more than bodies—we are souls, created in the image of God, marked by eternity. These earthly bodies are temporary dwellings, but the soul endures. As Scripture reminds us, “The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.” (1 John 2:17)

While I did not know Ruth personally, I have come to know her through the stories shared by those who loved her. I have heard of a woman devoted to her family, faithful in Sunday school, generous with her time and spirit. I’ve heard of her gift for making cards—especially humorous ones—and of how she had a way of making people feel important, no matter the conversation. I’ve heard of her deep bond with her sister, speaking whenever she could, valuing connection and love to the very end.

In her life and in the faith she quietly lived out, Ruth bore witness to the hope we have in Christ. And now, she rests in the presence of her Savior, in the place Christ prepared for her long before this day.

Death for the faithful is a life brought to completion and perfection in Jesus. Ruth is now experiencing the fullness of his/her life in the presence of Jesus. Life as God intended it to be lived…..in His glory forever and ever.

The 14th chapter of the Gospel of John has its setting in the Upper Room, where the disciples have eaten the Passover meal with Jesus.

Jesus knew exactly what the next few hours and days would bring, so He prepared His disciples to face the future, without fear. The words, “do not let your hearts be troubled…” were addressed by Jesus to all the disciples, but we can rightly include ourselves in His audience, and apply them to our own hearts and lives.

As Christians, we’re exposed to many adversities, troubles, and even sorrow and suffering sometimes on a daily basis. What this passage teaches us is that while we cannot prevent the many adversities and losses of life, we are able to find the strength and the power with the help of the Lord to get us through them.

Jesus suggests to us that we “trust in God; and trust also in Christ.” He was actually saying, “You have trusted God, now it’s time to trust in Me!” One of the most amazing things that Jesus reveals to us is found in verse 2. “In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going to prepare a place for you.” This is one of the greatest truths found anywhere in the Bible, and it implies that God dwells somewhere in a permanent place.

Her Father heard her prayers. He kept His promise—the promise to never leave or forsake her. In His faithfulness, He welcomed her into her eternal home, a home where sickness and pain are no more, where joy is complete, and peace has no end.

Just as we proclaim that Christ, who rose from the dead, lives forevermore at the right hand of the Father, so too does Ruth now dwell with Him. She is no longer only trusting the promise—she is living in its fullness. The Lord, her Shepherd, led her beside still waters. He walked with her through the valley of the shadow of death, and she feared no evil, for her Christ was with her. And today, her cup overflows. She dwells in the house of the Lord forever.