Mestre Necas and his legacy
"Mestre" is the Portuguese title given to craftsmen of various trades, perhaps something on the order of what Paul was writing to Timothy about when he said we should labor so as to receive God's approval of our work, as "workmen that do not need to be ashamed." Necas was a mastercraftsman, a mestre, and the cabinets in our kitchen are evidence of that, but from now on we will look at them as the legacy of a craftsman. Necas suffered an aneurism last Wednesday and never regained consciousness. He died Saturday night at the age of 56.
We have been friends of Necas, his wife and boys for almost 20 years, and although he never made any outward show of faith towards Jesus, his wife, Belita, felt he would have wanted me to say a prayer at his funeral. He never came to our church, but then he never went to the Catholic Church, either. The village priest didn't like the idea of me having any part of a graveside ceremony, and Belita said that was OK. She asked me to say a few words at the hospital chapel before the body was taken out to the village for the main funeral services. There were 70-80 persons in the chapel, none of whom had ever been in a "Protestant" church, and most of whom had never attended a funeral conducted by an evangelical pastor.
I hear that they are still talking about the "strange" words they heard. Basically I said that we all leave legacies behind, and we are judged by others as to whether our lives were good, or not. Did we lead honest lives? Raise a good family? Build good furniture? Men judge those things. But there is a legacy we take with us, a spiritual legacy that only God can judge. Have we built our lives on the Rock or on the sand? Have we served the Lord with wood, hay, and stubble, or with gold, silver and precious stones? When the works of each are tried by fire, will ours survive? (Mat. 7:24-27; 1 Cor. 3:10-15)
Death came suddenly and unexpectedly to Mestre Necas. It could come that way to any of us, to you or me. May the legacy I leave behind be honoring to God; may the legacy I take with me be pleasing to Him.
We have been friends of Necas, his wife and boys for almost 20 years, and although he never made any outward show of faith towards Jesus, his wife, Belita, felt he would have wanted me to say a prayer at his funeral. He never came to our church, but then he never went to the Catholic Church, either. The village priest didn't like the idea of me having any part of a graveside ceremony, and Belita said that was OK. She asked me to say a few words at the hospital chapel before the body was taken out to the village for the main funeral services. There were 70-80 persons in the chapel, none of whom had ever been in a "Protestant" church, and most of whom had never attended a funeral conducted by an evangelical pastor.
I hear that they are still talking about the "strange" words they heard. Basically I said that we all leave legacies behind, and we are judged by others as to whether our lives were good, or not. Did we lead honest lives? Raise a good family? Build good furniture? Men judge those things. But there is a legacy we take with us, a spiritual legacy that only God can judge. Have we built our lives on the Rock or on the sand? Have we served the Lord with wood, hay, and stubble, or with gold, silver and precious stones? When the works of each are tried by fire, will ours survive? (Mat. 7:24-27; 1 Cor. 3:10-15)
Death came suddenly and unexpectedly to Mestre Necas. It could come that way to any of us, to you or me. May the legacy I leave behind be honoring to God; may the legacy I take with me be pleasing to Him.
posted by EP | 12:29 AM | Permalink
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