I went to a funeral recently. It was an old friend and former colleague. The big “C,” diagnosed six years ago. He outlived the first diagnosis by five years but eventually it caught up. Splendid service, lovely music, fine sermon, many poignant moments. I met dozens of people I hadn’t seen for years. All as it should be.
[time-brightcove not-tgx=”true”]Except for one thing. The service was billed as a “resurrection” celebration. The printed service paper said so. The preacher said so.