Aunt Rose and The Baby

It was my first church and I was doing my best to do what I didn’t know how to do; lead a church that was filled with several saints who walked, talked, and lived like Jesus. But…, young and foolish, I tried anyway.

 I decided the church needed some good teaching about faith and embarked on a Sunday night study during which, for several weeks, I waxed poetic and impressed myself with how good attendance was and how interested the people seemed to be. Then…, it happened.

A couple of visitors had been coming to church for a few weeks and I got word one Sunday afternoon a young baby had died in one of the families of these visitors and the family did not even have the money to get the baby’s body back from Birmingham much less pay for a funeral. So, I explained the situation to the folks at church that night and asked if there was any way we could help. Several suggestions came up from going to get the body to helping with the funeral. After a few moments, Aunt Rose (90 years old) stood up, tapped her cane on the wood floor, looked me in the eyes, and said, “Let’s give that baby a funeral.” I began to explain our financial situation and the expensive nature of funerals when Aunt Rose tapped her cane on the floor again and said, “Now, Preacher, I’ve been here the last few Sunday nights and listened to you babble about faith. I think it is time we put up or shut up. Let’s give that baby a funeral.” Once again, I reminded everyone about the potential expense and maybe we should put a cap on how much we were willing to spend. Again, I was stopped short by another cane-rap  as Aunt Rose said, “Preacher, we are going to pay for this baby’s funeral.” In a flash, there was a motion, a second, a vote, and I received the marching orders to go set everything up with the funeral home.

Immediately, I began trying to contact the funeral home. After over an hour of busy signals, I called a different funeral home across town and they answered on the first ring. When I explained our wish to the director, he immediately said, “We are going to Birmingham tomorrow morning to pickup another body and will be honored to bring the baby back. If you will bring the family in tomorrow afternoon, we’ll work with everyone to get this planned.” I explained there was no insurance, no grave, and no money in the family and the church was paying the expenses. He simply stated, “No Problem; we’ll make it work.”

The planning was a blessing. The funeral was amazing as we buried a beautiful baby girl in a lovely pink dress and a little white casket with family and a crowd of church members attending. Much love was shared, and the family was deeply moved.

I waited for over a month for the bill to come from the funeral home. Then, I called and explained  we needed to get the bill paid so we could move on to other things. The director said, “Preacher, we’re in the funeral business. You folks are in the church business.” Well…, it was clear this man did not understand the lesson I was trying to teach my church. So, I tried again; “I’ve been trying to teach these folks about faith. We need to pay something so we can own this and use it as part of our history.” His next words stunned me, brought tears to my eyes, and left me forever scarred, “Preacher, when God caused the manna to gather in the wilderness, it was a sign he did not want God’s people to go hungry. Now, take your manna and eat. And…, tell your people how faithful they have been.”

“Feasting on the manna from a bountiful supply.”     Been chewing on manna a long time

Blessings, Mike