Celebration of Life Service for Robert Macdonald

Good morning. I am Pastor Lars Larson, pastor of the First Baptist Church here in Leominster, and on behalf of the family of Bob McDonald, we thank you for connecting with this service through the internet.

Of course the family would have much preferred having all of Bob's family and his friends gathered here, but of course because of the restrictions imposed due to the virus, this is the best alternative that we have available to us.

In this service, we desire to recall the life of our brother, but even more, it is our desire to exalt the

Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, whom Bob loved and served for most of the many decades of his life.

And so we will read scripture, we will reflect on a few high points of Bob's life, and we'll hear a message from God's word from Bob's grandson,

Pastor Ross McDonald. Let us pray and ask our God's blessing upon our time together.

Our Father, we thank you for being our God, for having created us and given us life, family and friends, for watching over us and preserving us.

We thank you for having given Bob McDonald to us. We are grateful for his thoughtful, grateful spirit, his words of encouragement that were always forthcoming from him, and for the kind and humble nature that he seemed to always exhibit.

We thank you most that we have assurance that he is in your presence now, for he was a believer in your son, our

Lord Jesus. For you have promised us in so many different ways and on so many different occasions, you assured us in your word that those who believe on Jesus as Lord and Savior would dwell forever with you and with your people.

And so we most of all thank you for your son, our Lord Jesus, through whom you freely extend the forgiveness of sins and the gift of righteousness and the promise of everlasting life through faith in him.

We pray that this morning we may give glory to you and bring comfort to those who mourn

Bob's passing, for we pray these things in Jesus' name, amen.

Though we're not able to sing together as a congregation, we will be having three hymns played,

Vita Fires graciously agreed to play for us, and I believe the words of each hymn will be able to be put up on the screen for your viewing, and perhaps you care to sing along.

And so the first of three hymns is Hallelujah, Thine the Glory. Donald MacDonald was 93 years old when he died unexpectedly this past Tuesday, May 12th.

He was here in this building at the First Baptist Church when this occurred, and Bob is survived by his children,

Dr. Kenneth MacDonald and his wife Connie of Leland, North Carolina, Alan and Ardeth MacDonald of Lehminster, David MacDonald of Fitchburg, Janice and her husband

Raymond Brooks of Lehminster, and Robert MacDonald of Lancaster. Bob leaves four grandchildren,

Wiles Chason of New York, Megan Dabbitt and her husband

Michael of Newburyport, and Ross and his wife

Alicia of Hubbardston, and Jason MacDonald and Emma Palazzo of Lehminster, and then

Bob had four great -grandchildren, Caden and Alexandra, Chason and Elsie and Sophia MacDonald.

Bob was pre -deceased by his wife Beverly in 2011, as well as by his daughter

Donna Lee MacDonald in 1988, and his siblings as well,

Roderick, MacDonald, Rachel, Hamill, Helen, Drury, and Barbara Hope.

Bob was born here in Lehminster October 5th, 1926.

He was the son of Donald and Violetta MacDonald. His mother died when he was but seven years old, and so he was raised by his loving stepmother

Minnie MacDonald. Bob graduated from Lehminster High School in 1944, and of course being during the

World War II, he enlisted in the Navy, and he served as a veteran of World War II.

He was in the Navy armed guard with a Navy gun crew on a

Liberty ship, the Liberty ship SS Doray in the North Atlantic, making several trips to Europe, and then he also served in the

Pacific on the destroyer USS Spangler and the and then also the

USS Brister. Following his time in the

Navy, he returned here to Lehminster and he attended the Leighton School of Dental Technology in Boston beginning in 1947, and he worked for group practices and commercial dental labs before opening his own business, the

MacDonald Dental Lab, and after taking courses at Fitchburg State College, he received a vocational teaching certificate and developed the dental laboratory technician program at Monte Tech.

He happened to mention this to me just a couple months ago, and he told me that he was looking for a job, and he found an ad in the paper for this teaching position.

He knew absolutely nothing about the matter, but he took some classes at Fitchburg and qualified and took that teaching position.

Bob was an avid golfer. He was a member of the former Grandview Country Club, Holden Country Club, Gardner Country Club, and he played in several leagues, and he was also an avid skier, quite advanced in years.

He was still skiing the slopes. Of course, he was a member of the First Baptist Church here in Leominster, having been baptized on June 23, 1944.

He served our Lord faithfully in this church for these past 76 years, holding many elected positions over the years, and for the past few decades, he's served as an elder of this church.

His witness shined brightly. His love and trust in the Lord was a steady guide throughout his long life.

He and Bev enjoyed a wonderful life, and their joy is now complete in heaven.

There are actually three distinct memories

I have of Bob that he related to me. The first was his service as a machine gunner on the bow of a

Liberty ship. He traveled in several convoys across the

North Atlantic, and he told me of the absolute pitch darkness at night.

They couldn't have any light whatsoever on shipboard, and he had to come out of the living quarters and basically feel his way along the surface of the ship, up to the bow of the ship where he manned his .30

caliber machine gun, and while he was there, he'd witnessed other ships being sunk by Germans.

He saw ships hit mines, perhaps torpedoes as well, and I remember him saying that because of the danger, the threat to their cargo, they were not allowed to slow down and stop and pick up any survivors.

They just had to continue on in the convoy. Bob was 17 at the time.

And then secondly, he recounted how he had been a member of this church for a few years following the war, when a former

Navy friend visited him here in Leominster, and this friend asked

Bob if he had ever been born again, and Bob was initially offended by this inquiry of his friend, for he had been a faithful churchgoer, but that conversation stuck, and the

Lord used it to bring Bob to personal faith in Jesus Christ.

He was converted as a result. And then thirdly, not long after I arrived here at this church, back in 1998,

I recall Bob coming to me because he was rather troubled with our teaching and preaching about the sovereignty of God in the grace of salvation.

He had believed that salvation was primarily due to the free will of man rather than due to the sovereign, merciful work of a gracious God, and so he wanted to understand these matters.

He was teachable, and so I encouraged him to go to perhaps one of the best sources of discussion on the matter and gave him the rather lengthy book by Martin Luther, The Bondage of the

Will, and he read through it. The book was basically a record of Luther's debate with the leading humanist, leading

Roman Catholic theologian in Europe at the time, Erasmus, and several weeks later

Bob came to me after reading the book, commenting, Luther, and this is just about a direct quote,

Luther didn't leave him with anything, did he? And he became convinced from that time forward of the sovereign grace of God, and I can remember vividly there was a different spirit about him too, that he had a desire and interest to know better the

Bible, and he exhibited a continual teachable spirit right up until the end.

I'd like to read scripture for us. Let's turn to John chapter 10. This is the passage from which

Ross will be bringing the message, and of course we have the familiar account of the

Lord Jesus as the good shepherd. John chapter 10, Jesus said, most assuredly

I say to you, he who does not enter the sheepfold by the door but climbs up some other way, the same is a thief and a robber, but he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep.

To him the doorkeeper opens and the sheep hear his voice and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out, and when he brings out his own sheep he goes before them and the sheep follow him for they know his voice, yet by no means follow a stranger but will flee from him for they do not know the voice of strangers.

Jesus used this illustration but they did not understand the things which he spoke to them, and then

Jesus said to them again, most assuredly I say to you, I am the door of the sheep.

All who ever came before me are thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not hear them.

I am the door. If anyone enters by me he will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.

The thief does not come except to steal and to kill and to destroy. I have come that they may have life and that they may have it more abundantly.

I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd gives his life for the sheep, but a hireling, he who is not the shepherd, one who does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and flees, and the wolf catches the sheep and scatters them.

The hireling flees because he is a hireling, does not care about the sheep. I am the good shepherd and I know my sheep and I'm known of my own as the father knows me, even so I know the father, and I lay down my life for the sheep.

And other sheep I have which are not of this fold, them also I must bring and they will hear my voice and there will be one flock and one shepherd, and therefore my father loves me because I lay down my life that I may take it again.

No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of myself. I have the power to lay it down.

I have the power to take it again. This command I received from my father.

And so thus says the Lord Jesus. Well, we'll now give attention to the second hymn,

Vida would play for us, Trust and Obey. Late a few precious memories they have of this patriarch of their family.

So Alan, I think you're first, aren't you? Thank you. Well, good morning and thank you for coming and thank you for streaming this occasion with us.

On this occasion, we gather to celebrate a life well lived, not in mourning as those who have no hope, but rather in the knowledge that dad has left his earthly body and is now fitted for eternal life.

My father, Bob, or Mack as he was called in his Navy days of World War II, was always a straight shooter who walked his own drumbeat and was a true head of the household.

He related to me one day that that name Mack was a common way of referring to one another during those times.

And in his initial time in the Navy, he often heard people saying the name

Mack and he'd be turning his head to the left and to the right constantly until he got used to it and they got used to him.

But I thought that was rather funny. In any event, he was baptized in this very church in 1944 and afterwards sought to bring up his young family in godly

Christianity, ordering it according to God's principles. He did not withhold discipline when necessary and applied it appropriately and equally amongst his six children.

I could always find willing help from him, whether it be doing homework, building models, or trying to solve problems with my constant drawing and artwork in pre -teen years.

Later, he used those skills that he saw in me to apply them to the dental technology field, which beginning in high school became my summer job.

He taught me how to be ready, willing, able, and consistent.

We later actually joined forces and were co -owners of McDonald Dental Lab, my total years as a dental technician number 24 years.

I could go on and on, but I want to say that in all of this, he wanted me to discover for myself how

I would find my way through life. He prohibited virtually nothing, but in wisdom, guided my decisions as much as possible.

This to me is a father's job and he did it well indeed, and I thank him for that.

After all, the children had left the homestead and we married and began our families.

He was a loving, compassionate grandfather who helped when asked and intervened only in an advisory capacity, usually saying, well, if I was you, this is what

I would do. I heard that very often. Through these years,

I remember that he and my mom really tried to define and understand their relationship with our loving

God. I saw many changes in his thinking, as was referred to earlier by Pastor Lars.

He sought God's face during several family crises, and I saw how

God was transforming him by the continual renewing of his mind.

I saw God's hand in Dad's sanctification as a church leader through the present time where he had been elected a church elder, able to teach and preach and rightly divide the word of God according to historical

Protestant Baptistic doctrine. Dad was methodical and deliberate in all his actions and ran the good race, crossing the finish line while holding on tightly to and wrestling with the faith.

All the while that he worked, all the while he was working on his own salvation, working out his salvation.

For others, he was showing love and concern, even to strangers, as well as his friends, family, and loved ones.

Dad always ended the visit with me by saying, I pray for you every day.

I pray for all my children every day. And you know, I believe he did, and I know we are all better for this love and prayer.

For he would say, you are nothing but a clanging cymbal or sounding trumpet without love.

So then my friends and loved ones, let us love God as he did love us, and let us love one another as Jesus loves us, and let us ever increase our identity in Christ and ever decrease ourselves.

The torch has been passed, and mom and dad are present with our

Lord and Savior, and we who have faith in that promise and believe on the free but costly gift of everlasting life through Christ shall enjoy eternity together with Christ one appointed day.

Amen. I'd like to share words that my aunt,

Bob's beloved daughter, wrote as her precious memories of his life.

I had the most wonderful life with my mom and dad. Dad passed away at church, his home away from home, where he went on May 12,

Tuesday, to truly go home to be with the Lord. I miss my mom, and as daddy's girl,

I'll miss him too. I called my dad about two to three weeks ago and told him how much

I have loved him and asked his forgiveness for some of my stupid mistakes. Then I said,

I will really miss you when you're gone. He told me he wasn't going to leave me anytime soon.

I either saw dad, called him, or both every day. Sometimes I called him up to five or six times a day, and he would say, now what?

When we went out together shopping or to church, he would park the car to let us out. I always put my hand on his and said, bye dad.

I will always remember that touch of our hands, how he had always been a strong support throughout my life, and now those phone calls, which will go unanswered.

Ray and I would play rummy on Wednesdays with him, and the winner held the Burger King crown until next time.

Well, dad, you won the last game, but you earned your crown of glory.

Rest peacefully, dad, until we meet again, your loving daughter, Janice.

My grandfather loved to laugh. More specifically, he loved to make others laugh.

I actually bought him a mask. I didn't have time to give it to him, but I know he would have liked it because it had the

McDonald tartan that he loved so much, and I've been wondering if I had had the chance to give him the mask, what his response would have been.

I know it would have been a joke, but my mind didn't work like his I don't know what joke he would have made, but I know it would have been something that caused me to laugh.

I can even picture in my mind the familiar way his lips would curl, and he'd be looking at you, but his eyes would look for a moment slightly past you, and you could tell the wheels were turning for what his life had trained over many decades, this comedy that was so sharp till the very end.

Even in photographs when he was a young man, his smile was always less polite and more wry.

He almost had a mischievous look in the pictures that we have of him, like he was thinking of the perfect one -liner in his mind for the photographer as soon as that picture was taken.

So on the whole of my memories, his wit and his humor are a constant. I remember him, and I'm sure my sister does too, as the grand teaser of house cats.

He enjoyed and almost enjoyed too much palming the back of a feline's head and watching it wrangle helplessly.

He's remembered for the gut busters that he would share around our tables. Some of the fonder ones would be the time he and some neighborhood hooligans set the town's baseball field on fire, the time he lit firecrackers behind a pull horse and lost the ice delivery for that day, and my personal favorite, the time he and some of his shipmates in the navy got chased out of a

North African port by traders who realized the government chocolate bars were in fact laxatives.

The warmth of a man is gauged by his humor, and he had both in spades.

And we've gathered here this morning, some of us in pews, many of us from our homes, we've come to honor a man.

Some knew this man as grandpa. Some knew this man as dad. Still many more knew this man as elder and brother and friend.

As family and friends, we grieve for his loss. As brothers and sisters, we glory in his gain.

As years rolled by, and as you've heard from both Lars and my father, I saw changes in him that reflected changes that were going on in my life.

I came to appreciate more and more my grandfather's humor, but I came even more than that to appreciate a faith that was glowing brighter and brighter in the eclipse of his life.

I came to appreciate an ongoing work that had only just begun in mine.

As many from his church family here at First Baptist know, Elder Bob enjoyed teaching church history.

I think whenever Lars gave him Luther's bondage of the will, that set him on such a course. And sure enough, we could be found at the odd family get -togethers exchanging facts and figures about Luther or Calvin or Knox.

Few things can clear a family get -together faster than a church history chat.

And we would watch as the half hours rolled by, those plastic picnic chairs begin to empty until it was just my grandpa and I.

But if you could stand to listen, you'd come to know something. Something that a real student of the giants of church history knows, and that's this.

There are no giants in and of themselves. There's only men and women, flesh and blood, just like you, just like me.

And then the powerful, compassionate, redeeming God who calls them and saves them and guides them.

My grandfather knew that because he was a real student of the faith. My grandfather knew that because it was really true of him.

And so moving into the passage I'd like to consider this morning, it's found in Genesis 48.

It brings us near the very end of the book of Genesis, and specifically the very end of Jacob's life.

Jacob, this great patriarch, is on his deathbed. And he's gone through the lineage in front of him and given his blessing upon them.

And Joseph has taken his two boys, Ephraim and Manasseh, and brought them to Jacob.

And Jacob, as he begins this blessing upon these boys, he makes, as it were, a confession.

And it's a confession that I think my grandfather held close to his heart. Genesis 48 15 says, the

God whom my fathers, Abraham and Isaac, walked. The God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day.

Now I stop there. That's just the invocation. We haven't even actually got to the blessing, but there's so much to notice about the invocation of the blessing.

And the first thing I notice is this. It's a confession of generations. It's a generational confession.

The God before whom my fathers walked, Abraham and Isaac. Jacob, in other words, is passing down a legacy.

He's, in his old age, impressing the lineage of the faith. He's longing for his children and his grandchildren to know what his great -grandfather had longed for him to know.

He longs for a children that know the great heritage upon which they stand. This is the weight of one man's faith, and it yearns after those who will work as he worked, and love as he loved, and stumble as he stumbled, and grow old.

Even as his wrinkled hands clasp their shoulders, so too will they grow old.

And what does Jacob impart to these grandchildren of his? He doesn't impart some trinket of earthly wisdom.

He doesn't plea for them to have fond memories of him from time to time. What Jacob urges upon them is that they would know the

God of Jacob. Now, is this just to keep up appearances?

Is this just simply to carry along some sincere but distant family belief, some claim that our family's always done this and always been this from generation to generation?

It cannot be. It cannot be simply because of what he goes on to say in the next words.

The God before whom my fathers Abraham and Isaac walked, the God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day.

In other words, Jacob isn't speaking in the abstract. He's not speaking agnostically.

He's not projecting a sense of purpose into an empty sky. No, it's not the

God of the philosophers, as the great Blaise Pascal would say when he passed away.

They found in his jacket a note that had been sewn, and it said, not the

God of the philosophers, but the God of Abraham and Isaac and Jacob. It was personal.

And Jacob is very tenderly, I imagine, taking hold of his children and telling them that the maker of heaven and earth, the omnipotent and eternal creator is a shepherd.

A shepherd who has led him through the twisting paths and the vicissitudes of life.

A shepherd that will help them. A shepherd that will bless them. A shepherd that will keep them.

And so Jacob thinks of Abraham, his grandfather, and Isaac, his father, and he thinks of himself, and he thinks of his son, and he thinks of his son's sons.

He thinks of his grandchildren. And we see this generational confession. It's a confession that puts

Robert's God before us, and it asks us, his children, and his grandchildren, and his nieces, and his nephews, whether or not you know this

God, whether or not you know him, whether or not this God is your God. And that leads us not only to the generational confession, but that personal confession.

Notice this little word, my. God who has been my shepherd all my life long to this day.

Not a shepherd, not the shepherd, but my shepherd. It's personal.

It's a personal confession. Jacob is opening this intimate window into his relationship with the

Lord. God has been my shepherd my whole life. And like every relationship, it's two -sided.

It's personal in two ways. In other words, it was not simply that my grandfather had found the

Lord as his shepherd. More importantly, it was that the Lord had found my grandfather as his sheep.

And that's what we read in John 10. John 10 goes on where Jesus says in verse 27, my sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me, and I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish, neither can anyone snatch them from my hand.

My sheep hear my voice, is what Jesus says. And my grandfather heard that voice.

What kind of voice did he hear? Was it audible? How do we describe this voice, this call?

It's the echo of eternity. It's powerful like the tremors of a fault line, but it's gentle like a whisper.

A whisper which searches us. A whisper which disarms us. It brings us out of the hedges and the byways of our shame.

A whisper which knowingly opens our hearts to God. It's a resonance.

A resonance that God tunes our ears to hear, and it helps us understand what history is hurtling toward.

It's a resonance which I can imagine he as a young man in this very church heard as sermons were being delivered.

It's a resonance that makes a fiery sermon into a gentle whisper. It's a resonance that makes the command to repent into a bid for anxious fears to subside.

It's the voice of the shepherd. Do you hear it even now?

I think of my grandfather at this very moment, no longer hearing the shepherd's whisper that gently bore him through his life, but rather the shouts and the loud voices, the chorus of heaven.

We have a glimpse in Revelation 5 where John, the same

John that says my sheep hear my voice on Jesus' lips, says I heard the voice of many angels around the throne saying with a loud voice worthy is the lamb who was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honor and glory and blessing and every creature which is in heaven and on the earth and under the earth and all that are in them

I heard saying blessing and honor and glory and power be to him who sits on the throne to the lamb.

This is the unfolding scene of splendor that elder Bob, that grandpa is partaking in this morning, and I wonder if as I read that something stood out to you.

No one in that great chorus is saying worthy is the shepherd. They're rather saying worthy is the lamb.

There's some tremendous things about this that we simply don't have time to consider, but we must understand why

Jesus, the good shepherd, can say I give them eternal life and they shall never perish.

How? How can this be? How can he give his sheep eternal life such that they will never perish?

And the answer, simply put, is this. The shepherd became the lamb.

This in a nutshell is the gospel. The shepherd became the lamb.

This is what my grandfather believed. This is what the voice so clearly spoke to his heart.

This was his personal confession. In Matthew's gospel, we read about Jesus going throughout the cities and the villages and it says, when he saw the multitudes, he was moved with compassion for them because they were weary and scattered like sheep having no shepherd.

And so what did this good shepherd do? He laid his life down for the sheep.

He became the lamb of sacrifice. The shepherd became the lamb that every

Passover ceremony had always typified, that ultimate sacrifice that would cleanse a people for him.

He became the fulfillment of what centuries of blood pouring down the Kidron Valley had always pointed to.

The shepherd became the lamb. And what was his motive? When he looked upon those who were weary, he saw that they were like sheep without a shepherd.

He was moved with compassion for them. That little word moved is a poor translation, but I don't know how we can improve upon it.

It speaks of the guts of a man being twisted. He was gripped at his core with compassion for the weary.

He was gripped by the same compassion that caused him to look out from the cross saying, Father, forgive them.

And he's not in that moment asking for something that's against the Father's own desire.

He's not saying, Father, let me convince you to forgive them. He's rather embodying the desire of God.

For this is why God sent him into the world. I and my Father are one, he said in John 10.

The God who is moved by compassion to the weary and to the helpless.

The God who would be a shepherd to sheep that have no shepherd. The God who has been my grandfather's shepherd his whole life.

The shepherd who became the lamb. Christ looked at our weakness and made himself weak.

Christ came to the filth of our shame and all the horror of its condemnation.

And as Isaiah put it, the Lord laid on him the iniquity of us. He was pierced for our transgressions.

He was crushed for our iniquity. The Christ who could not endure sin in angels endured sin on his body on the cross.

And this is what is meant by the shepherd became the lamb. The lily of the valley became a thorn.

The gold of Ophir became vulgar. The glorious one became veiled. The king became a slave.

Unmitigated splendor became a man of sorrows well acquainted with grief. The treasure of the cosmos became stricken, smitten, and afflicted.

And that is why the shepherd can say, I give my sheep eternal life and they shall never perish.

I lay my life down for the sheep. This is what Robert D.

McDonald believed. This was his personal confession. There's such power in that little possessive pronoun my.

The Lord has been my shepherd. You don't need a shepherd when you're strong. Jesus said of his own ministry, the healthy have no need for a physician.

You don't need a shepherd because life is going well for you. Because you've convinced yourself that your conscience doesn't mean as much as it should.

Those things that peek out at you in your dreams and in your thoughts can be chased away.

Things are going rather well and they will go well and if they don't go well who cares. You don't need a shepherd when you're strong.

You need a shepherd when the crutches that you've been using in your life become chains. You need a shepherd when the idols that you've been serving become your jailers.

You need a shepherd when the body that you've relied on for decades begins to wear and begins to weary and you can't trust your knees and your lungs and your eyes and your ears.

You need a shepherd when the ambitions that once defined you, those childhood dreams of who you would be and what you would become come crashing down around you.

You need a shepherd when the fill of the world that once gave you joy begins to ring hollow.

You need a shepherd when the noise of anxiety blinds you and the burden of stress robs you.

You need a shepherd when you've gone astray, astray from the faith of your fathers, astray from the testimony of your own conscience, astray from the light that haunts the darkest corners of your life.

You need a shepherd. And first Peter, the apostle who found this great shepherd of the sheep, says

Christ suffered for us. Christ suffered for us.

When he was reviled, he did not revile in return. When he suffered, he didn't threaten.

He bore our sins in his own body on the tree. And this is verse 25.

You were like sheep going astray, but now you've returned to the shepherd.

Return to the shepherd. Listen to the voice of the shepherd.

Listen to the blessing of Jacob and make this personal confession yours.

In the words of Samuel Crossman, an old Puritan that wrote a wonderful hymn, it closes this way.

Here might I stay and sing no story so divine. Never was love, dear king, never was grief like thine.

This is my friend in whose sweet praise I all my days could gladly spend.

This is my friend, my shepherd, my

God. That's the confession that Jacob possessed. That's the belief my grandfather held.

Not even a confession, but an acknowledgement. That's how you have to read Genesis 48 -15.

It's not just this monotonous sort of confession. It's this bewildering acknowledgement.

It's the realization of this eternal, costly, but never failing love.

This God has been my shepherd. My grandfather now beholds the

Lamb of God and with joy inexpressible, he says, you've been my shepherd my whole life.

Well, for some time now on Lord's Day morning, we conclude our church service with a chorus,

God be with you till we meet again. And as a closing hymn, Vida will play all the stanzas and again the words will be before you.

Let's pray. Our father, we do thank you for your comforting words of assurance that we find in the holy bible as they touch upon your son, our savior, our

Lord Jesus Christ. We thank you, father, that we can testify of Bob's faith in Christ and therefore he is alive even now before you.

And we pray, our God, this assurance would comfort those who grieve and we pray, our

God, it would stimulate each of us to greater measures of faith in Christ as we live for you.

For we pray in Jesus' name, amen. Coming to the

Evergreen Cemetery here shortly in Leominster for a graveside service in which any and all are welcome to attend and we'll begin that service oh at about 34 minutes,