Mourning Lessons

This is a really depressing passage, isn’t it, especially the first part. You can certainly see why this book of the Bible was called Lamentations. It was written by Jeremiah after the fall of Jerusalem. Our hearts really have to go out to him, don’t they? He spent forty years, his entire adult life really, preaching and pleading with the people of Judah to repent. During that time he was at best ignored and disparaged, and at worst threatened with grievous bodily injury both by his family and by the king. Talk about a hostile work environment! No wonder he begged God to let him off the hook.

But God didn’t accept his resignation. And not only that, he told Jeremiah, in essence, to quit whining and pull up his socks because things were only going to get worse. “If you have raced with foot-runners and they have wearied you,” says YHWH, “how will you compete with horses? And if in a safe land you fall down, how will you fare in the thickets of the Jordan?” [Jer 12:5] So Jeremiah says in essence “Yes sir, how high, sir?” and gets back to work. And what was Jeremiah’s reward for his faithful service?

The payoff for forty years of total dedication was to watch his city - God’s city - the beautiful temple, the rich buildings and strong walls, smashed into rubble; and the people - including some no doubt altogether innocent ones - dying of hunger or killed by soldiers or sold into slavery.

So he wept. Wouldn’t you? It doesn’t seem fair. Righteous and faithful Jeremiah should have died at a ripe old age, prosperous and at peace, surrounded by admiring followers, his life’s work vindicated at last. But no. At this lowest moment of Jeremiah’s career - lower even, I think, than when he was tossed into a dry well to starve to death - not even his friends listened to him anymore. He told them to stay in Jerusalem, even destroyed as it was. He told them, “Thus says the Lord, the God of Israel... if you will only remain in this land, then I will build you up and not pull you down; I will plant you and not pluck you up.” [Je 42:10] But they didn’t believe him. They bundled Jeremiah up and carried him off to Egypt, where they vanished into the mists of history. . .

Not only did he have to watch his city and his people destroyed because of their disobedience, he wasn’t even granted the privilege of remaining obedient himself. Jeremiah certainly had reason to lament. But then, so do we.

Maybe not on the same scale as Jeremiah, but no life comes without losses. We who are here today are suffering the loss of 150 years of history, and each one of us is saying farewell, in a way, to his or her own particular memories of this place, this community. We have also each experienced other, more personal and individual losses, haven’t we? A spouse, a child, a parent, a friend, a home, a dream? Loss is not a stranger to us. And the older we are, the more losses we have. Because life works like that.

“Life is hard, and then you die.” How many of you have seen that bumper sticker? Or maybe a slightly ruder version?

It’s hard to argue with. Life is hard, and we all do die. And in the middle of grief it is sometimes very hard to believe that there is anything beyond the present pain.

We all deal with loss in different ways. Most cultures have rituals that help with the loss caused by death, from the Jewish custom of sitting shiva to the Victorian year-long black mourning garb to the rowdy Irish wake. These are all attempts to manage the emotions that come with loss. We have had recourse to our own rituals as we have dealt with losses over the last few years. We have said goodbye to young and old, to friends and relatives who have ailed for years and to others for whom the call came more suddenly. And here, today, we face a particularly poignant kind of loss, as we close our doors for the last time. We find comfort by gathering in worship and prayer and remembrance with family and friends, but nothing can erase the loss itself.

Unfortunately, our American culture is uncomfortable with the very idea of grief. We’re supposed to all be happy and healthy and prosperous all the time, aren’t we? We’re entitled. And if something bad happens, a lot of people simply don’t know how to handle it. You may have found, after suffering a loss, that people avoid you because they don’t know what to say. Or you may avoid people yourself, because you feel you’re lousy company. Or you try to be upbeat and cheerful, because after all we’re Christians, right, and Christians should be optimistic and always look on the bright side of things and be thankful at all times.