I have sung for countless funerals over the years, but the one I sang for yesterday was like no other.  It was a very painful funeral for everyone concerned because the deceased had committed suicide, leaving behind him a grieving wife and two children, other relatives, and many many friends.  I didn’t know him or anything about him, but Pastor Jeff’s sermon (so sensitively crafted for the situation) made mention of some ill health which had become an increasingly harsh burden for the young man in question.  So while still in his early thirties, he ended his life.

Jeff asked me to be organist and soloist, and the family’s musical requests were intriguing- a list of hymns from the Missouri Synod hymnal (only one of which was familiar to me) plus the old Thomas Dorsey gospel favorite “There will be Peace in the Valley,” which they were especially anxious to include in the service.  I knew brief little snippets of the song but I’m sure I had never heard it all the way through even once before, and couldn’t find it in any of my books at home or school. And when Jeff told me the night before that the family wasn’t able to provide me with music either, I suddenly realized that that I was in urgent need of a recording from which to learn the song

A quick visit to iTunes that night yielded five possible recordings, but none by Elvis Presley (the recording the family knew and loved.)   I downloaded the Dolly Parton rendition which was well-sung, but I could tell she was taking all kinds of liberties with the melody that made it impossible for me to really learn the song itself. To the rescue came Barnes and Noble the next morning, although at first it looked like I was going to have to purchase a $49 collection of Elvis recordings in order to secure this particular song. (This was a purchase I was not anxious to make, needless to say.)  Fortunately, a second search brought up a single CD – “Elvis Presley: How Great Thou Art”  – with “Peace in the Valley” as its final track.  By the time I had tracked this down, it was 11:05 am-  less than an hour before the funeral was scheduled to begin.  I put the CD on my car stereo and immediately heard the original melody- but to my horror I could barely understand a single word.  So I raced home, ran for the computer, replayed Dolly’s recording from iTunes, and transcribed the lyrics as quickly as I could.  Then it was back to the car and away to church, with the Elvis recording on continuous loop all the way.

I have to confess to feeling a bit amused by some of this,  and maybe even a touch irritated. (I’m sorry to say.)  But then I pulled up to church to find several dozen mourners out in the parking lot, and I suddenly realized that my logistical headaches were not the story of the day – it was the grief of these mourners and the possibility that this song was going to make some sort of difference for the better.  (That makes me sounds a little too saintly and sensitive. I will confess that I also noticed that this seemed like a somewhat rough-around-the-edges crowd – and that almost every single person in that parking lot was smoking a cigarette and just looking a bit out of place there.  But when I walked into the sanctuary, I was immediately struck by how hushed and respectful everyone was.)

The deceased was in an open casket at the back of the sanctuary,  and when it came time for the casket to be closed and the funeral to begin, his widow began wailing in a way that I have never heard before, especially in my church.  There was not another sound because I had not yet begun to play the prelude.  I found myself unexpectedly hesitant, with my fingers poised over the keys, feeling self-

conscious about offering music in that painful moment.  Finally I started to play the only one of the requested hymns that was already familiar to me:  Comfort, Comfort ye My People, which is actually an advent hymn.  I was thunderstruck at how fitting the words were for a funeral-

“Comfort, comfort ye my people. Tell of Peace, so says our God.  Comfort all who sit in darkness, mourning under sorrow’s load. . . “

Her weeping went on for quite some time, and it was so striking to hear that sound to the accompaniment of this radiant hymn- or was her weeping accompanying the hymn? Regardless, that combination of serene music over the sound of wailing is something I will never ever forget.

Nor will I soon forget what it felt like to sing the Dorsey song after Jeff’s sermon had concluded. I don’t know whether or not this family carefully pondered the words of this song before choosing it for the funeral, or if they simple reached for it like reaching for the strong shoulder of a faithful friend, but as far as I was concerned, no words could have spoken so directly or so reassuringly to those mourners gathered there, and especially to that grieving widow grappling with her pain in a valley far darker than any I’ve ever yet seen.

I’m tired and so weary, but I must go on
‘til the Lord comes and calls me away.
The morning is so bright and the Lamb is the Light,
and the night is as bright as the day.

There will be Peace in the Valley for me someday.
There will be Peace in the Valley for me, O Lord I pray.
There’ll be no sadness, no sorrow, no trouble I see…
only Peace in the Valley for me.

Well the bear will be gentle and the wolves will be tame
and the lion shall lay down with the lamb-
and the beast of the wild shall be led by a little child-
and I’ll be changed, changed from his creature I am.

There will be Peace in the Valley. . .

This has been a week of funerals for me-  two of them for which I sang and played, plus remembering Kathy’s mom’s funeral from a year ago, plus answering the request of a dear friend that I sing for his parents’ funerals someday, whenever they occur.  All of that leaves me pondering my own funeral- far off in the future, I hope – and what I would want spoken and sung. And I realize something:  I very much doubt that I will ever take out this Elvis Presley CD again. (Both the singing and the funeral home organ accompaniment  are pretty hard for me to stomach.)   But I will most certainly return to this song again. And although I’m not absolutely certain of it,  I think I want this to be sung at my own funeral.  And it’s amazing how comforting the thought of that is.