Luke 24:1-12
But on the first day of the week, at early dawn, they came to the tomb taking the spices they prepared. They found the stone rolled away from the entrance to the tomb, but they didn’t find the body. While they were perplexed about this, suddenly two men in dazzling clothes stood beside them.
The women were terrified and they bowed their faces to the ground. The men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He’s not here, but has risen. Remember how he told you while he was still in Galilee that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners, crucified, and on the third day, rise again. Then they remembered these words and, returning to Jerusalem, told all of this to the eleven and all the rest.
Now it was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the other women with them who told this to the apostles but these words seemed to them an idle tale and they didn’t believe them. But Peter got up and ran to the tomb. Stooping and looking inside, he saw the linen cloths and went away, amazed at what had happened.
I heard an interesting story on the This American Life podcast recently about a guy from Queensland, Australia, who calls himself “The Coffin Confessor.” His name is Bill, and he was actually a private investigator by trade, before he picked up a side-gig some time ago that led to this new, much more interesting job title. What’s cooler than being a private investigator, you wonder?
Well, this guy was investigating some financial matters for a client who, unbeknownst to Bill, was dying of a terminal disease. As they became friendlier and talked more, his client made an off-hand comment about how he had some things he’d wish he could say at his funeral – for everyone to hear. He explained that he had thought about making a video of himself saying everything he wanted to say to whoever showed up at his funeral, but that he suspected his family wouldn’t actually play it. Bill, just trying to be funny, suggested that he could crash his client’s funeral and say whatever it was he wanted to be said – and “The Coffin Confessor” was born.
So, when his client – now friend – died, Bill showed up at the funeral, not knowing a soul in the church. When the dead guy’s best friend got up to give the eulogy, Bill stood up from his pew to interrupt him – as he was instructed, contracted, and paid to do.
And, because he’s from Australia, it’s more interesting and fun to hear Bill tell it…
“It was a blur to start with. I mean, I was sweating, profusely. And I've got to say, it was -- you've got your time on your phone. And I'm looking at the clock, and I'm thinking, OK, his mate's about to do the eulogy. And I knew I had to get up within one minute, two minutes at most, to interrupt the eulogy.
“And his best mate stands up, and he starts blubbering and telling everybody how much he loves his best mate and starts talking about a certain particular time that they shared. And it was that moment, I looked at my clock, and I went, oh, it's nearly two minutes in.
“And in that church, there were long pews. And they were timber. So when you stood up or you even moved, they made a sound. And yeah, when I stood up, it made a sound. And obviously, everyone just looked straight at you, you know? I froze, to say honestly. I stood up, and I just stood there and went, OK.”
Well, since we’re in church I have to stop it there, because what Bill had to say, and the words he had to use to say it, are a little much for some people on Easter Sunday. The short of the long is that the man Bill interrupted – the dead man’s best friend? – had tried to sleep with his friend’s wife, while his friend was dying. And Bill’s job – the Coffin Confessor – was to call him out for it, in front of God and everyone. Bill was also asked tell the dead man’s brother to “take a hike” that day, in much more colorful language, for not being around or available to him and to his family for the previous thirty years.
So “The Coffin Confessor” did his job, said his peace on behalf of the deceased, folded up the letter from which he’d been reading, laid it on the casket at the front of the church, and walked out.
The dead man’s wife and daughter appreciated what he’d done and thanked him for it later. A relative of the dead man, who was also terminally ill, found it so meaningful, she hired him to do something similar at her own funeral when the time came. And so did others. And so, a star – or at least a new career – was born.
See, Bill has found himself crashing funerals ever since, for anywhere between $2 to $10,000, and for all kinds of reasons – some big, some small – some petty and some profound – “some good, some bad, some funny, some sad,” as Bill tells it.
At another funeral Bill was hired to air some dirty laundry about an affair between neighbors. Another time, an atheist asked Bill to let everyone know that the religious funeral they were participating in – that he just knew his parents would concoct on his behalf – was nothing he ever would have wanted. Another time, Bill helped a dead, muscled, tattooed biker come out of the closet as bi-sexual to a room full of other muscled, tattooed – very surprised – bikers just like him. Once, a dying man asked Bill to apologize to his ex-wife and let her know how much she meant to him. More than once, Bill has surprised a dead person’s family with a surprise windfall of money they never knew was coming.
So, “the Coffin Confessor” made me think about Easter and what brings us here today, not because of what this Good News might inspire us to have said on our behalf at our respective funerals … after we’re dead and gone. But because of how our faith in what brings us here today – even if that’s small – might inspire all that we say and do on this side of the grave differently … so that it matters for us and for the world, here and now, right where we’re still living.
What I mean is, God doesn’t want us to wait to start telling the truth – TO START LIVING OUR TRUTH – to start living into the fullness of who we are. Yes, the Good News of Easter is about life after death and resurrection on the other side of eternity – whatever in the world that means for you, for me, for all of us as believers.
But, precisely because of that promised eternity, this Good News, this Gospel of new life, matters just as much here and now, if we really let the truth of it have its way with us.
Because of God’s overwhelming grace, I mean, we don’t have to wait until after we die to be generous with our time or our talents or our treasures …
Because of God’s abundant mercy, I mean, we don’t have to wait until we’re dead to seek justice – for ourselves or others in this world …
Because of God’s promised love, you don’t wait to come out of the coffin as it were. Come out of the closet now, for crying out loud, and live and love as God created you to live and love…
Because of Easter’s good news we are called to apologize now… offer forgiveness now… extend mercy now…. share grace now…. on this side of the grave…with the people for whom it can still matter and make a difference in this world.
Bill Edgar, “The Coffin Confessor,” provides a valuable service, it seems, for which there is a growing market apparently – he’s written a book; he’s in conversation about a movie; there’s talk of a reality TV show, as you might imagine. And the appeal for it, as he describes is, is that “mic drop” moment he gets to deliver on behalf of the deceased: when the dead have their say, when the deceased get the last word, when he walks out of a funeral, leaving all sorts of emotions – “good, bad, happy or sad” – in his wake.
But Easter reminds us that God always gets the last word when it comes to life and death in this world and the next. And because God’s last word is always something about grace, mercy, forgiveness, peace, new life and second chances …
Because God’s last word proclaims victory over death, forgiveness of sins, and life everlasting …
Because our “Coffin Confessor” is Jesus of Nazareth – crucified and risen for the sake of the world – our lives on this side of it all – right here and now – can be more honest and truthful, more fulfilled and life-giving, more holy and hopeful, and much more like the paradise we long for, the eternity that belongs to those who’ve gone before us, and the heaven that will be ours whenever the time comes.
Amen. Alleluia. Happy Easter.
