Good Grief: Transcript from this morning’s sermon
A few people have asked for a transcript of today’s brief homily. Here is the text. The audio will be available to download from www.yeringtonvcf.org by Tuesday:
I’ve thought about death an awful lot lately. In the past six months, two of my personal heroes died. One changed the world in countless ways, had a life that was too short, and succumbed to complications caused by cancer.
The other sold computers.
What I’ve come to realize, is that death isn’t natural.
Death is regular. It is expected. It’s all but unavoidable. But it isn’t natural. When God created humans, death wasn’t a part of his plan. God’s mission and purpose is to restore the world to it’s pre-death state. His plan is to make everything new again.
Death is the wage we earn for sin, it’s our paycheck, and we are professionals. It is a constant reminder that all is not right. That while we have a hope for a future full of abundant life; right here, right now, the world is broken. And so we come into this Sunday (a day we celebrate the resurrection) with heavy hearts.
How should we deal with death? What is the right posture to have towards this reminder of imperfection? We know Jesus conquered death on the cross. We believe all things will be restored in the end. We trust that Edna is in God’s presence now. But what about us?
The easy answer we tell ourselves is that we live with hope in the future. WE’re okay because Grandma Chism is okay. Move along with your life, because there’s no sense in being sad. Start another project, a new ministry. Be inspired by her example, and change your ways. Put another update on facebook about how you want to be more like Jesus now. Wear black to the funeral and shake a few somber hands, but don’t bring your hurt home. Bury it at the gravesite, and move on. the problem is that the easy answer is rarely the best answer.
How did Jesus respond to death? Thankfully, John had the presence of mind to write down one such interaction.
Turn with me to John 11. [read the story of Lazarus]
… What catches your eye in this story? Did you notice that Jesus did everything he could to NOT makE it there in time to heal Lazarus? Jesus wouldn’t prevent a close friend’s death. He chose not to, for the sake of the Resurrection.
What’s more, Jesus breaks down on the way to the grave. Even though he knew what would happen, knew that bringing Lazarus back to life would glorify God, He chose to experience the loss associated with death. He chose to be present in his grief. The only appropriate response for Jesus was to burst into tears. This, the shortest verse in the Bible illustrates Jesus’ humanity more than any other. Why did he weep when he knew what would happen next?
Because sometimes bursting in tears is the perfect response.
Jesus did not carry on, singing a happy tune. He did not busy himself with arrangements or additional ministry. He didn’t even try to encourage the family with endless platitudes or home cooked meals. Jesus could have said “he’s in a better place” with a consoling head bob, but didn’t. Jesus needed space to mourn.
You see, he recognized the hole left by losing a friend, the pregnant pause of loss. Jesus did not choose the easy road of denial. He faced his loss, though it was temporary. Moving on is a facade. Just as the ship cannot navigate in a storm, we cannot move our way through grief. The best chance a ship has is to weather the storm.
In the same way, grief happens to us, it is not our process to control. We get endure it, sure, forever changed by another crack in a broken world. You can stop pretending everything’s ok now.
Let yourself face the void, experience the loss. Cling to Jesus, who felt the same thing before you. He will hold you steady through the tumult.
… The writer of Hebrews penned, “We have this hope like an anchor, secure, solid, and penetrating into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone in ahead of us and on our behalf.
Anchors are simple machines. They do not speed up storms, or pull the ship through them any faster. They don’t bring resolution. Anchors just hold the ship fast. They connect the ship to a firm foundation. When the troubled waters of life throw us about, anchors hold. They prevent us from getting lost and from sinking in desperation. Until the storm passes.
This storm, like any other, too shall pass. Some of us will get caught in the terrible winds longer than others. Many here will experience secondary squalls after the initial shock has worn off. No matter the storm in which we find ourselves, the anchor will hold. Our hope in the resurrection will let us endure. Though we are sad, afraid, and emotionally spent, the anchor holds fast to a firm foundation, the very presence of God.






