Spooge's Spit Up - Preachers First Funeral

As a young minister, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, with no family or friends.
He had died while traveling through the area.
The funeral was to be held at a cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be laid to rest there.

As I was not familiar with the backwoods area, I became lost and being a typical man did not stop for directions.
I finally arrived an hour late.
I saw the back hoe and the crew, who were eating lunch, but the hearse was nowhere in sight.
I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave, where I saw the vault lid already in place.
I assured the workers I would not hold them long, but this was the proper thing to do.

The workers gathered around, still eating their lunch!
I poured out my heart and soul.
As I preached the workers began to say, "Amen," "Praise the Lord," and "Glory."
I preached, and I preached, like I'd never preached before -- from Genesis all the way to Revelation.
I closed the lengthy service with a prayer and walked to my car.
I felt I had done my duty for the homeless man and that the crew would leave with a renewed sense
of purpose and dedication, in spite of my tardiness.

As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I overheard one of the workers saying to another, "I ain't never seen anything like this before, and I've been putting in septic tanks for twenty years."