Sharing Sorrow
“Oh death, where is your sting?” This phrase has been echoing in my mind this Easter season. Now more than ever, I understand the true sting of death. The sting does not feel lessened. And yet, we approach the celebration of when death was defeated.
Over the past few years, death feels like a close companion. So many experienced death suddenly, and others experienced the release from a hard fought battle. Neither feels less painful. The older I get the more aware I am of the inevitability of death, both in the future and its presence with us now.
Sickness is rampant. Viruses make us feel fragile. War is just an ocean away.
Death even hangs over us at the beginning. Never have I been more aware of the miracle it is that we make it into the world. So many are mourning death for the simple fact that it makes the miracle of life so difficult. Infertility is widespread. Death seems to win when all we want to to is see life on the ultrasound screen or hear a heartbeat fill the room. Each month when the test shows up negative it feels like death is taking our babies and our dreams
What happens when your womb becomes a tomb? When your baby comes into the world closer to death than life. By the grace of God and the grace of medicine, she kept filling her lungs day after day. Now embracing the fullness of life. In our family death was defeated once.
But for our third child, that was not the case. She never breathed life into her lungs here on earth. She went straight from the womb to the arms of Jesus. The emotions that go along with that are so conflicting. We mourn for ourselves, the life we wanted with her. The experiences we would never get to have with her. We process lies and guilt that we were somehow unworthy of her.
And yet, we rejoice because she never had to walk in the brokenness of this world. She is being held in eternity with the Lord who loves her more than we can ever know.
John Newton’s last words before he passed away sums up our hope so vividly. He said “I am still in the land of the dying; I shall be in the land of the living soon.”
Death has truly been defeated. Death has no more of a hold on us. We can rejoice in knowing that the best is yet to come.
But here on earth, there is still pain in loss. There is sorrow in separation.
In the book of John, the author details an encounter that Jesus had with His dear friends. Lazarus had passed away, and his sisters were mourning. They believed whole heartedly that they would see him again in eternity, but were honest about their disappointment that they had lost him so soon on earth.
What was Jesus’ response to their grief and tears?
Jesus did remind them that they would see Lazarus again. He did remind them of who Jesus himself was, the resurrection and the life.
But He did not criticize or minimize their grief. He did not scold them for feeling the loss deeply or questioning the circumstances.
But in my CSB version of the bible, the scriptures depicting this interaction is labeled “Jesus shares their sorrow”.
Because Jesus, the resurrection and the life, the one who would defeat death forever, the One who would ultimately suffer the most heinous death for all time, wept with them.
Jesus did not weep out of despair. But He wept for His children. He wept because death was never supposed to be a reality. He grieved the effect of death on His children. Jesus wept because He cares when we hurt. Psalm 34:18 “The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
So Jesus grieved with His people. He knows our hurts. He understands the pain of separation.
And yet, “We do not wish you to be uncertain, brethren, about those who have fallen asleep. You should not grieve as do those who have no hope.”
Death has a sting. But it is light and momentary. We have the promise of life in eternity, because Jesus did not reject or avoid death as we do.
Jesus not only entered into and shared our grief, but He experienced the very thing that causes such sorrow to the deepest degree. And overcame it. We will one day be delivered of it.
He knew that when Lazarus died, but He did not push away the sadness. He doesn’t push ours away either.
But what we sow in sorrow, we reap in joy.
We can have hope in fear. Peace in turmoil. And joy in grief.
My heart aches for so many who experience loss. Not just once, but daily. Grief and unmet desires are a constant reminder that death is for now a reality that we walk with.
And yet, hope can part the clouds and remind us that we were not made for death. Death has no victory over us. Its dominion is short lived, even if it is holding on tightly.
Our God is a God of life. He gives it abundantly, both here on earth and in eternity.
So on the hard days, when grief and loss and hope and sickness and fear feel particularly stingy, sit at the feet of Jesus. Who does not toss off our grief, but offers joy and peace in the midst of it.
