During the Covid-19 pandemic, the practice of delaying funerals became routine. Often postponed out of necessity, delayed funerals complicated the mourning process and created difficult conversations resurfacing months later. Indeed, by mid-2021, articles began appearing in major publications contemplating the awkwardness and grief attending the phenomenon of delayed funerals. A palpable sense was afoot that something deep and meaningful had been lost.

Yet in the wake of Covid, many pastors have anecdotally noticed an increase in the practice of deferring the funeral altogether. Some attribute this trend to factors such as the rise of cremation, while others point to cultural shifts that downplay social connection and acknowledge that the “beliefs and values of the organizers” often do not align with the ethos of traditional funeral services.

From the other side of the pulpit, I can relate. It is not uncommon for me to perform a Christian funeral that would have made sense to the deceased, but which feels quite alien to many of those in attendance. We can expect this dynamic in a quickly secularizing culture, but it remains true that many who find themselves in charge of a loved one’s arrangements attempt to discharge that duty as theological outsiders. The talk of eternity is unfamiliar. And as for the talk of the exclusivity of Christ, which is subject to contemplation in Bible-believing churches, well, that’s just a bridge too far.

In the midst of all this, committed Christians need to reckon with the reality that, because our churches have long neglected a theology of mourning, we find ourselves prone to rather utilitarian and therapeutic approaches to the funeral. We shirk language of loss in favor of “celebrations of life.” We tend toward eulogies that rely heavily on funny stories and anecdotes and rarely ponder the eternal. These factors, both within the church and without, have conspired to create an environment in which funerals are renamed, recast, or altogether relegated to the past: a vaguely understood tradition that may no longer serve our enlightened needs or dignify our postmodern sensibilities.

These realities communicate to the Christian conscience something more salient than mere statistical patterns or offended sensibilities. In fact, when the formal funeral is neglected, something deeply Christian is obscured. We are, after all, a people with a message of hope beyond the grave. Moreover, we are those encouraged to grieve temporary losses in service to reminding our fickle hearts of the comfort only eternity in Christ brings.

Jesus rather confounds us when He claimed, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4).

Yet I submit that this ethic could be said to comprise a vast portion of the Christian worldview. The Cross and the empty tomb make present mourning and pain bearable. In view of Christ’s victory over death, we of all people should be able to understand a funeral. It is where we go to remember that this world could never deliver on its promises in the first place. It is where we go to make sense of Jesus’ Beatitude of mourning, knowing that those who have thrown out all hope of lasting comfort in this life will be eternally comforted in Jesus in the next.

And lest we think Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount was the only place this theme surfaces, we are reminded of the reflections of Solomon in Ecclesiastes: “It is better to go to the house of mourning than to go to the house of feasting, for this is the end of all mankind, and the living will lay it to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad” (Ecc. 7:2–3).

That’s right: it is better to go to a funeral than to a party. And for Christians seeking to calibrate their consciences aright, we can also say that it is better to have a funeral that mourns than a funeral that ignores life-giving eternal truth.

We live in a culture that seeks to push thoughts of death to the periphery of our consciousness. Whether this is done in service to limiting “negative emotions,” “living one’s best life,” or some other therapeutic justification, the Creator of the universe has built us to utilize mourning for our spiritual good.

Christians: let’s keep the funeral alive. It is not only the occasion during which we can prompt our unbelieving or nominally Christian neighbors to consider again the end toward which we are all walking, but it is also a visceral reminder to our own souls that we will not live forever. A funeral is a sanctifying rehearsal of our own future: one that calls us deeper to Christ and asks us to contemplate what portion of our present way of living will be judged as eternally significant by the only One whose evaluation really matters.