Funerals are not only to mourn, but to remember truthfully. Christian faith does not deny grief; it gives it language and hope. As Scripture reminds us, “The days of our life are seventy years, or perhaps eighty, if we are strong” (Psalm 90:10). God granted Reverend Dr Robert Cunville eighty-six years—not merely of length, but of purpose. Dr Cunville’s life was not marked by spectacle but by faithfulness. He travelled widely, preached across continents, studied deeply, and served quietly. Yet what stands out most clearly in the tributes offered at his funeral was not the scale of his ministry, but the consistency of his character. He showed up—day after day—for God, for his family, and for those entrusted to his care. The Apostle Paul’s words seem apt: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7). This was not a life lived for applause, but one lived in obedience. Whether proclaiming the Gospel publicly or praying privately for friends by name, Dr Cunville embodied a steady, disciplined faith that did not draw attention to itself. The family spoke of loss with honesty—of being uprooted, of losing a pillar. Such language matters. Christian hope is not sentimental. It does not pretend that death is easy. Jesus himself wept at the grave of Lazarus. Yet Christian hope insists that death does not have the final word. “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord,” writes John, “for their deeds follow them” (Revelation 14:13). What follows Dr Cunville is not only memory, but example. He leaves behind a witness of humility, intellectual seriousness, pastoral care, and love within the home. To his grandchildren, he was not a public figure but a teacher of patience and kindness. To the church, he was a servant who understood that ministry begins not on platforms but in faithfulness. In that measure, Dr Cunville’s life stands as a quiet sermon still preaching.
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