I’ve put it off as long as I can. Writing this one.

Duane McDaniel, executive director of the New Orleans Baptist Association, went to Heaven over this last weekend. Far too soon, if I had any say in it. He was only 54 years old. His funeral is next Sunday, June 5 at the First Baptist Church of New Orleans.

Rachel Lively was ten years younger than Duane. The mother of a 17 year old son and a 12 year old daughter. Her funeral is tomorrow morning, June 3, at First Baptist Church of Brandon, Mississippi.

They both died of strokes.

I was Rachel’s pastor during her childhood. When she married and moved away, I saw her rarely, but her parents, Roy and Penny Lively of Brandon, have remained our close and dear friends all these years. As you can expect, they were shocked and are broken-hearted by the death of their daughter. I’ll be driving up for the visitation at the funeral home this (Thursday) evening.

Duane McDaniel’s photo and obituary are in this morning’s Times-Picayune. I cannot look at that smiling, happy, beaming face without the tears flowing. We were nowhere near ready to hand this dear brother back to Heaven.

Death, we hate you with a passion. What heart-break you bring. What sorrow you spread. What dreams you stab through the heart. What loneliness you produce. Tears.

It helps some to remember that the Lord Jesus hated death too. We sometimes gloss it over a little by calling death a friend because it sends us to Heaven. But make no mistake; it’s an enemy. The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.I Corinthians 15:26.

I will never forget the first time I met Duane McDaniel. He was pastoring the Hawaii Kai Baptist Church in Honolulu and had brought a team from his church to help with the post-Katrina recovery of New Orleans. They were staying at the Rachel Sims Baptist Center in uptown, and for some reason that evening, I happened by a little before dinner. Pastor Duane invited me to join them. I stayed, sketched many of the team members, spoke a little about what this city was experiencing, and received a Hawaiian t-shirt as a thank-you.

No one who ever met Duane McDaniel quickly forgot the experience. The friendliest man on the planet. You met him and instantly liked him.

Sometime later, when our association was looking for a new director of missions–I was retiring and hanging around until my replacement was in place–someone on the search committee said, “Joe, we have a resume’ on a pastor in Hawaii. I think we can rule him out, don’t you?” I said, “One of your criteria for the next director of missions is that he must have shown a commitment to the rebuilding of New Orleans. This guy has brought seven teams from Honolulu. That speaks volumes.”

Nothing more was said.

I was thrilled a few months later to learn he was the nominee.

Nothing Dr. Duane McDaniel has done in the two years he led our association has done anything but enhance my appreciation for him. (I’ll let others tell of the changes he has made, the new directions he established, the personnel he brought in. The news is all good.)

His death has been the biggest blow to our Baptist community since Katrina.

Just after learning of Duane’s homegoing–he lingered a week or so before the decision was made to unplug the life support–we heard of Rachel’s stroke. This was a double-whammy.

I cannot type these words without tearing up.

As a pastor, I have held hundreds of funerals. I’m no stranger to the funeral home or cemetery. Nor do I hate them, as some do. In fact, sometimes when I’m on the highway and need a shady place to pull over for a brief rest, I look for an old-fashioned cemetery, the kind with shade trees and marble monuments. They don’t scare me.

Nothing about death scares me.

Jesus Christ pulled the fangs of that monster a long time ago. O death, where is thy sting? (I Corinthians 15:55)

Death’s days are numbered. Death is like a bee that has lost its stinger; still flying around frightening people but unable to do anyone any permanent damage.

But we hate it. We hate the separation death brings. Duane’s children–there are four of them, all under age 15–and Rachel’s two children need their parents. A lot of people are hurting badly today as they long for these two loved ones who have been taken from us.

People are always asking, “Why did God do this?” and “Where was God in this?” or even “Why did God allow this?”

Who knows. God knows.

We’re a lot like Job. He said, The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21).

God is God and we aren’t. And it’s not like we have a lot of choices about the God we will serve. There is One God and He’s It. When faced with life’s hard questions, we say with Simon Peter, Lord, to whom (else) shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life. (John 6:68)

And so we put our trust in Him. That is, in the Lord Jesus Christ. He has the Words of Eternal Life. He is the Lord of eternal life. His salvation is the gift of eternal life.

Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. (I Corinthians 15:57)

This life is not all there is, friend. If it were, then evil has won. If this life is all there is, Duane McDaniel really blew it, investing as he did in the kingdom of God for all his years.

If this life is all there is, the universe is an accident and chaos rules.

I refuse to believe that, and I’m betting you do, too.

In the beginning, God created the Heavens and the earth. (Genesis 1:1). It all starts there. And in a hundred ways, that’s where it ends too. Settle that you accept that opening line of scripture and you have solved a thousand perplexing issues in life.

Thank you, Father. Thank you, Duane and Rachel are in your presence today. Thank you their work continues here on earth. Thank you that your grace is sufficient for our hearts and lives. And thank you, Lord Jesus, that you have prepared a place for all of us who are the redeemed. Oh, grant that we may all humble ourselves before Thee, repent of our sins and self-righteousness and self-trust, and daily live in obedience to Thee. Then, that we may move seamlessly into Thy eternal presence. Oh, Father, help us as we all move toward the finish line, confidently facing all you have waiting for us, knowing that everything is intact. Amen.