It is a very extraordinary occurrence when a man shapes his coffin with his own hands, a minister travels five hundred miles to be present and ten thousand interested people assemble for a funeral service while the individual is yet alive.
     Much good may and should come from such a service. It is a funeral service divested of the usual tears and heartaches and heart breaks in which we may place the stern realities of life.
     It is interesting to find an individual who takes time from the ordinary procedure of life, in this day of feverish and restless activity, to take thought of tomorrow and anticipate the great adventure called death. If any of you in the audience have come here with the thought that this is to be purely an exhibition and picnic affair, let me disabuse your minds of that idea at the outset. Mr. Breazeale never intended that it should be anything but a solemn service and the preacher would never have accepted the invitation to be present, had he thought that that would be the spirit of the occasion.
     It is an opportune time to re-emphasize some of the great soul searching texts of the bible. Among these: "The soul that sinneth, it shall die", "The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life throuugh Jesus Christ our Lord", "Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, before the evil days come and the years draw out, when thou shalt say, 'I have no pleasure in them, while the sun or the light or the moon or the stars be not darkened, nor the clouds return after the rain; in the day when the peoples of the house shall tremble and the strong men of the house shall bow themselves and the grinders shall cease because they are few and the grasshoppers shall be a burden; because man goeth to his long home and the mourners go about the streets; or ever the silver cord be loosed or the golden bowl be broken, or the pitcher be broken at the fountain." Believing that you will agree with me that it is a time for sober reflection, I would like to discuss with you for a while this topic, "A Building Not Made With Hands, " based on Paul's words in Second Corinthians, Fifth Chapter, when he says, "For we know that if this earthly house of our tabernacle were dissolved, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the Heavens."
     There are many builders today; many of them master builders. There are those endowed with genius of construction and we enjoy our great sky scrapers in the modern cities, our huge government buildings, our temples and cathedrals and we honor those who are responsible for them. There are those who build great dams across our water courses and these dams defy the power of torrential floods. There are those who build great fortunes. But, all of these buildings that are for time alone soon come to naught. The greatest builders of all time are the builders of character. Concerning buildings for time and eternity, Paul says that the buildings for time are merely tabernacles, they endure but for a little time," but the building for God is for eternity.
     In the building of character, every person becomes a builder. Isn't it funny that princesses and kings and clowns that caper in sawdust rings and common folks like you and me are all builders for eternity?

     "To each is given a book of rules,
     A shapeless mass and a kit of tools;
     And each must make ere life is done
     A stumbling block or a stepping stone."

     Life is God's most sacred trust. It must be accounted for; every moment, every possibility, every power. From the same materials, one man builds palaces, while another builds hovels; one man rears a stately edifice, while another, vacillating and incompetent, lives forever amid ruins; one man becomes an Al Capone or a John Dillinger, to be known as an "Ace" criminal, while another becomes a Spurgeon or a Harry Emerson Fosdick, to captivate a nation with the eloquence of his pulpit utterances.
     We must build a life that shall be worthy to occupy this building not made with hands. God furnishes the building, for his Son has said, "In my father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you". It takes a life and a dwelling place to make a home, and

     "It takes a heap o' livin' in a house to make it home,
     A heap o' sun and shadow, and ye sometimes have to roam
     Afore ye really 'preciate the things ye left behind,
     An' hunger fer 'em somehow with 'em allus on yer mind.
     It don't make any differunce how rich ye get t' be
     How much yer chairs and tables cost, how great yer luxury,
     It aint home t' ye though it be the palace of a king,
     Until somehow yer soul is sort o' wrapped 'round everything."

     This building not made with hands, must be occupied by a life not made with hands and so I come to ask you my auditors, in the language of the Epistle of James, in the Fourth Chapter, "What is your life?" "What are the dimensions of your life?" While we cannot apply the measuring rod to anything as complex as life, yet, there are certain well defined dimensions of life; these I conceive to be length, breadth, and height. What is your life with reference to length? By length, I do not mean in terms of years, but in terms of achievement. There is no limit to the possibilities of a life, though grief and miracles of accomplishment are taking place every day, character contributes much to this dimension of life, of which I am speaking. Shakespeare rightly says, "Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just, but naked though locked up in steel, whose conscience with injustice is corrupt." Paul said, "I can do all things through Him that strengthens me."
     What is your life with reference to breadth? By breadth, I mean your lateral outreach into touch and sympathy with your fellow man. How broad-minded are you? What are you doing to help an over-burdened brother along the road of life? The Holy Word says, "Bear ye one another's burdens and so fulfill the law of life". How much of charity and sympathy and appreciation and good will do you have for your fellow man?
     What is your life as regards to height? By height I mean the upward reach into touch and fellowship with the Divine; the reach for ampler ether; diviner air. How much have you risen above the things that are sordid and base and mean. Paul reached such heights that he exclaimed, "My citizenship is in Heaven."
     Felix (Bush) Breazeale was born the 29th day of June 1864, on Dogwood Road. He is the son of D. W. Breazeale and Sarah Littleton Breazeale, deceased. He is one of a family of eight children. Those living at the present time, besides Felix, are Mrs. Sarah Huffine, of Bozeman, Montana, 80 years of age and Jessie Lincoln Breazeale of Roane County, 75 years of age. Mr. Breazeale was reared on a small Roane County farm and has known nothing but hard work all his life. He has spent much of his life plowing the hillsides with a bull tongue plow. He has spent his entire life in Roane County with the exception of the year 1872, which he spent in Missouri, his father having moved the family by wagon to the western state and returned by wagon the following year. Mr. Breazeale was never married, but chose to look after his father and mother while they lived. After their decease his sister kept house for him until her death not so long ago. He joined the Cave Creek Baptist Church about 30 years ago and has been a faithful church member since that time. His faith has been strong and today is unshaken as he awaits the final summons. Mr Breazeale's mother was a sister of Thomas J. Littleton, father of Attorney Martin Littleton, and Mrs. Rachael Vanderbilt Morgan, both of New York City. There are also many relatives in East Tennessee.
     I was deeply impressed a few days ago, when I called upon Bush Breazeale at his simple mountain home, close to God and nature. I was impressed with his friendliness and his hospitality; his sincerity of purpose in arranging this funeral; his abiding faith in God, as he told me that he is ready for the summons of the Grim Reaper, at any time. From all appearances, I believe that he has built the life not made with hands. Though he is not rich in worldly goods, and may not be numbered among the great as men count greatness, yet, I believe he has built that which alone will stand in the day of judgement. The Master warns us to lay up treasures in Heaven where moth and rust doth not corrupt and where thieves do not break through and steal.
     Mr. Breazeale is 74 years of age, having exceeded the allotted three score years and ten, and is living in the tomorrow and is building the home over there. He believes in the Resurrection and treasures the words of our Lord when he said, "Because I live, ye shall live also". Paul said of the resurrection, "If in this life only, we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable." "But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the first fruits of them that slept. For since by man came death, by man came also the resurrection of the dead. But every man in his own order, Christ the first fruits, afterwards they that are Christ's at his coming.
     We would do well in this nervous and feverish age, in this day of hustle and bustle, to build for ourselves a life not made with hands, eternal in the Heavens.
     I close with some of my favorite words from Kipling:

     "When earth's last picture is painted
           and the tubes are withered and dried,
     And the oldest colors have faded
           and the youngest critics have died,
     We shall rest and faith we shall need it,
           lie down for an eon or two
     Until the Master of all good workmen
           shall set us to work anew
     And none but the Master shall praise us
           and none but the Master shall blame
     And no one shall work for fortune
           and no one shall work for fame,
     But each, for the joy of working
           and each in his separate sphere,
     Shall draw the things as he sees them
           for the God of things as they are."

     This also from the Chambered Nautilus:

     "Build thee more stately mansions, oh! my soul,
     As the swift seasons roll, leave thy low vaulted past!
     Let each new temple, nobler than the last, shut thee from
     Heaven with a dome more vast, till thou at length art free,
     Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea."