Listen to the Sad

Listen to the Sad

(Revelation 21:1-6)

Sunday, April 28, 2013, Windsor UBC, J G White

Bruce McKinnon Cartoon - Rita MacNeil at the 'pearly gates': “I'm with the band.”

There seem to have been quite a few recent deaths faced in our culture: people our whole province notices have been lost: four fishermen from Shelburne County, Rehtaeh Parsons, Margaret Thatcher, Boston bombing victims, deaths from the Texas fertilizer plant explosion, and the Bangladesh factory collapse - hundreds dead!

A lot of people have heard that the shortest verse in the Bible is John 11:35. “Jesus wept.” But do people know that this Jesus is available to weep with them today? And are we, Jesus' people, His Body, available for this ministry now? Can we listen to the sadness?

Jesus wept: He wept at the tomb of his friend, Lazarus, who had died. When He was entering Jerusalem one day he wept over it, saying, “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Mtt. 23:17)

Did Jesus weep when he prayed outside one night, just before he was captured, tortured, and executed? He said he was grieved deeply; He threw himself on the ground (Mtt 26:38,39); His sweat was like drops of blood.

Our Saviour cried with and for all those around Him. Just take a thorough look at the ways He spend time with those who were hurting. He spent so much time with them! Our Master would lead us to listen to our sadness, and that of others. Our covering up of death would be uncovered by Christ. Our denial of failure would become dealing with it. Feel the hurt, and find the healing and wisdom of God.

John Eichhorn shared words today of the Revelation of John: that vision of the New Heavens and the New Earth. Here is a great promise: God himself will be with them;

he will wipe every tear from their eyes.

Death will be no more;

mourning and crying and pain will be no more,

for the first things have passed away. (21:3&4)

These are scripture verses we preachers have often read at funerals. But I have have the occasional request not to mention the word “death” on such occasions.

Just look at funeral rites today - times, they are a changin! I've talked with some funeral director friends lately. They can tell us what we already know. There is a minimizing of funeral rites: committal only, visitation or reception – not both, secular gatherings – no religion, celebrants instead of pastors, or sometimes nothing at all – not even burial of the ashes.

Lament - do we know how to lament? Do people want to know? Is this avoided? Just about everyone wants to “celebrate life” instead of mourn and have a Christian funeral. Shouldn't we believers be those who know how to lament well, and help others do the same? If we simply are in denial of death and loss, like others, what difference is our Faith making? Might we, believers, express sadness and disappointment at death? Can't we call out for mercy when bad things happen?

I've mentioned before a particular obituary in the paper that once caught my eye. It was for a man I'd never heard of, though at least one of you knew him well. Not many death notices are written with sentences like these.

____, ____ ____, 72, Dartmouth, died February 2, 2002, in Dartmouth General Hospital. His battle with cancer was not courageous, he detested every moment he had to endure the disease that robbed him of years of his well-planned time of retirement and relaxation. He has been unhappily dragged from this world with many of his projects incomplete and his plans undeveloped.

Now that's a lament! Right in the obituary. It's a modern-day expression of Psalm 30.

To you, O Lord, I cried, and to the Lord I made supplication:

"What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit?

Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?

Hear, O Lord, and be gracious to me!

O Lord, be my helper!"

You have turned my mourning into dancing;

you have taken off my sackcloth

and clothed me with joy,

so that my soul may praise you and not be silent. (8-12)

Of course, this Psalm, from David's collection, is the song of one who survived and did not die. We notice there was mourning before there was dancing, the wearing of sack-cloth before being clothed with joy.

I think the story was told of American preacher and author, Walter Bruggeman, who was asked years ago what he thought of “praise teams.” You know, a band leading so-called contemporary worship music. The professor answered, “I guess that's fine, as long as you also have a lament team.”

Brueggemann today keeps asking why we don't lament in a bigger way, as the Psalms would teach us to do. Start with our complaint – be it about our sin or other things, and them move toward looking to God as Saviour. The Church – us, or “doing church” - our worship, can become a safe place for people to be sad – about themselves, about their lives, about their world. We do this in the presence of the living God, who came to heal all.

We can lament and be sad, because loss and hurt and death and wrong and evil do not have the last word. So we can face loss and hurt and death and wrong and evil, thank God! I do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who have died, says Paul in 1 Thessalonians 4:13, so that you may not grieve as others who have no hope. We grieve; yes we grieve, but not as others who do not have hope: hope of resurrection. Death gets conquered in the story of Jesus. Now, we may well grieve as those without hope for those who have died without Christ. In the Family of God, we grieve as those who have hope in our Saviour. We also bemoan evil and wrong as those with faith and confidence in Jesus, who ushers in God's Kingdom on earth, and who comes again with new heavens and new earth.

We may need the Holy Spirit to develop in us more longing for expressions of grief – in actions, in prayer, in silence. In Richard Foster's book on Prayer he has a chapter called The Prayer of Tears. He writes, (p. 38)

I recently experienced a special grace of the soft rain of tears. I had been considering my sin and the sin of God's people... As I did this, God graciously helped me enter into a holy mourning in my heart on behalf of the Church, and a deep tear-filled thanksgiving at God's patience, love, and mercy towards us. As Micah declares, “Who is a God like you, pardoning iniquity?” (7:18)

For me, says Foster, this heart-weeping lasted only a few days. I wished for more. These experiences seem to be the exception today; there was a time when they were the rule.

Lamenting is a gift from God, and a ministry of community. Jesus’ own compassion is incredible. We see his expressions of care for so many hurting people. He doesn't just swoop in and fix things; he starts by joining them, knowing them, feeling with them. This is com-passion: feeling with.

We are intentional about this in our small groups that meet – sharing, confession, crying out to God together. We do this when we all gather, for worship. And, it is a ministry of care and prayer for us. Our Christian way of lament is needed for the sake of others in the wide family of Church. The United Churches in Kings County right now are struggling to amalgamate. It's tough, it's a crisis, it's sad! Our prayers can lament with them before God.

And there are many individuals we meet who have a lot to lament about. Though some lament who have life pretty good.

I have a Church member I visit about once a year, a non-participating person, who mostly, to me, complains about the failings of WUBC. My pastoral ministry to her is to hear and receive her lament. Now, I feel what I can offer her is bigger than this, but I've noticed that all she speaks with me about is putting down our church family. So I want the Holy Spirit to teach me through this. I'm sure He wants to do greater things, when the lament is over.

In our faith we should understand sadness about ourselves – sadness over our sin. Can't we help our secular neighbours who have sadness over the evil within and among us?

Some people look for regret, confession, sadness from the perpetrators of violence such as the Boston Marathon bombing, or recent bullyings. The words of the Psalms cry out for justice again and again, and find it in the Lord. We have the spiritual tools at our fingertips, to speak for others. Our ministry, our expertise with sadness and tragedy, may be needed in our community, or our world, someday. Not to mention our Church, this Family of Faith. Will we be ready?

Jesus compassion is incredible. Our compassion is His compassion. Our hope is in Him. He is our model. With Him we move from lament to praise and faith – on our own, in small groups, together in worship, and in ministry out in life.

The Lord touches people where they are broken as we listen and see and receive the lament. We help people with their own lament. Give language to the experience, help them with their spirituality. We also become bilingual – learning their language for sin and salvation. Their real blessings will come through us when we are instruments of God's grace and channels of His peace.

You know the old hymn for the TV watcher? Channels Only. It was about a decade ago I first learned and sang this gospel hymn; thanks to mid-week prayer meeting here, and people like Marg Boyd who requested such songs:

Channels only, blessed Master, But with all Thy wondrous pow'r

Flowing thru' us, Thou canst use us Ev'ry day and ev'ry hour.

Listening is a priestly task, and we Baptist Christians stand in the tradition of having a priesthood of all believers. It is not just for Pastors to listen and speak good news into the lives of others. So many of you have a gift of ears – spiritual gifts to receive the confession of others, the sadness of others, the hurt and torment of others, and take that to Christ – take them to Jesus. As we do, the Spirit dwells and fills and heals and blesses. This is our ministry, that ole ministry of reconciliation mentioned in 2 Corinthians 5.

So, may the scripture be fulfilled in us: Isaiah 50:4. The Lord God has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens— wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught.

May God do this in us!