Good Grief?
Pastor Jeff Williams
3-16-08
In the Twinkling of an Eye
I heard the sirens as I ate my lunch. The racket seemed to be coming from north of town and I almost drove out there but I had a full afternoon schedule. I sat down at my desk and my secretary told me I had a phone call from the church.
Maxine and I had been filling in running the student ministry after our youth pastor left. It was not unusual for the secretary to call me. I looked at the clock. I knew I had an appointment soon but I picked up the phone. The next ten seconds changed my life.
Our church secretary was not known for her charm or her tact. (She’s not as gracious as Angie!) She said, in a tone completely void of any feeling, “Did you hear the little Barnett girl got killed just a minute ago?”
My head spun. I thought I was going to throw up. I had never before experienced the emotions that overwhelmed me. I hung up the phone and just sat there, completely numb.
But I didn’t cry.
The phone suddenly started ringing off the hook with students calling to see if I knew what was going on. I didn’t know what to do and I felt like I was swimming in jell-o. Finally, after a phone call to a mentor, I canceled all my appointments and went home.
But I didn’t cry.
I paced back and forth, talking out loud.
“This can not be true. This is a mistake. There’s a mix up. Wasn’t she just sitting on the back of my car last night talking about school? God, she’s only 16. This is not happening!”
I called Maxine and she came home immediately.
But I didn’t cry.
Later, that afternoon, I sat in Leanne’s living room at the feet of her mother. Her mother’s blank look masked a depth of grief that I can hardly fathom. The house filled up with people and food. Some sat silently. Some talked non-stop.
That night, I called together a group of students and we sat shiva. This is a Jewish custom where you sit together and tell stories about the person. In a small bed room, about twenty-five teenagers crammed in and cried together. I comforted and hugged a lot.
But I didn’t cry.
Two days later, I was at the funeral home with the family. The visitation started at noon and at 10:00 PM we had to turn people away. I escorted every student in our group up to the casket. I said the same thing to each of them. I had them look at her and then look at the collage of pictures next to the casket. I asked them, “What’s missing?” The obviously answer was “Leanne.” Many of the pictures were of her laughing. Hour after hour I hugged and prayed.
But I didn’t cry.
There was a time for private viewing and a group of her friends gathered around the casket. These were her best friends. Out of the blue, one of them yelled, “Wake up!” Soon all them started yelling. Then they collapsed into a sobbing heap of sorrow. It still ranks today as one of the saddest scenes I’ve ever witnessed.
But I didn’t cry.
The former youth minister came back to do the funeral. Before the service I was asked to pray. Surprisingly, I couldn’t find words. I had been to seminary. I knew what to say, right? Wrong! I just remember mumbling that God was good. I don’t know whether I was trying to help the family or convince myself.
The funeral was full of funny stories about Leanne and we laughed a lot. It was full of hope. She was a beautiful lover of Jesus. She was enormously gifted in leadership. She was more friend than student. She was special.
That’s what made me so angry! She was special! How many students had she led to Christ? What kind of impact would she have had on this dark and dying world? Why her God? She was just running late for work and forgot her seat-belt. God You saw the car coming over the hill. You saw Leanne pulling out, looking the other way. You could have stopped this. But You didn’t. Why?!
These were the accusing thoughts that haunted my heart and mind.
But I still didn’t cry.
After the funeral, Maxine and I walked back to my office. There were so many flowers that the arrangements had been put all over the church. I stopped to look at one that had pictures of Leanne. Right then, something happened that I find hard to explain even after ten years.
I started to cry.
Not a few tears but heaving sobs that came from somewhere deep inside that I didn’t even know existed. I couldn’t control it and I blushed in embarrassment as Maxine just held me.
I cried all the way to the graveside. I wept through the service and when I was asked to pray I exploded into tears all over again. One of our students actually prayed in my place.
I just stood there, staring at that box, and sobbed.
Over the next weeks and months, I experienced a wide range of emotions - sadness, anger, fear. Sometimes I felt like running, other times I wanted to scream. Many times I just wanted to sit in a dark room. I became afraid of driving and every time I left my house I thought it might be for the last time.
In time, I returned to my normal self. But, I’ve never really been the same. I let God out of the box I had put Him in. I admitted that I know so little and that, even when sixteen years old die, God is still good.
Good Grief?
What was it that I experienced after Leanne’s death? The clinical word for it is “grief.” Grief is our natural reaction to loss. It is highly personal and no two people grieve in exactly the same way.
Recently, I sent out an email and asked this question, “How would you describe grief?”
The answers I received prove the variety of reactions we have to tragedy and trouble. See if any of these sound like your experience.
“Even though I know God is with me, it’s a feeling of helplessness, feeling empty inside, despair, and loneliness.”
“...grief is like crawling through broken glass.”
“...sadness so overwhelming that no one or anything else matters.”
“... grief was like a bubble that swallowed me up-inside, my whole world was at a complete stop...”
“...being all alone and there is no comfort, only the torment of your mind, even though you are surrounded by your friends...”
“...broken, confused about everything...a deep pain in your soul.”
“ ...a big solar eclipse-it overshadows the good things happening around you. It sucks the joy from the good things happening around you.”
“ Grief is the tumbling of every emotion you can imagine - overwhelming you all at once. Grief is the quiet after the storm, when your adrenaline ceases and you want to fall apart, because you survived the the storm.”
“...grief [is like] drowning and struggling to gasp another breath, like you’re going under, panicky with grasping for help.”
More than Death
Since that fateful June day nearly ten years ago, I have felt the sting of grief as we buried my mother and Maxine’s mother.
It’s important to understand that, although I have been talking about grief in terms of coping with death, grief is much broader than that.
If we define grief as a natural human reaction to loss, then it is normal to grieve quite often. We all experience loss, small and big, and must deal with the resulting emotions.
I’ve often surprised people who come to counsel with me by suggesting they may be grieving. Their first response is, “Nobody died.” But grieving is not always about physical death.
We grieve when:
* Divorce steals our dreams of a happy marriage. In fact, divorce really is about death, the death of a dream. Many people would say that it is actually worse than death because the other person is still around, a reminder of an indescribable loss.
* The loss of a job can cause grief reactions. Being fired, laid off, or downsized can cause grief to raise it’s ugly head.
* Moving can cause grief, particularly if one feels uprooted from their support system.
* The loss of a pet can be devastating, even to adults.
* Dealing with middle age - a stressful time when many are trying to take care of their parents and their adult children who end up back in the house.
* The disintegration of an important friendship can cause grief.
* Watching your children make choices that you know will hurt them can cause grief.
* Being an eyewitness to a tragic event can cause overwhelming sorrow, as anyone who sat glued to the televisions in the hours after the 9-11 attacks on the World Trade Center can tell you. Or, as Jeremiah experienced when he looked out over the ruins of his beloved Jerusalem.
A Time to Lament
That brings us to the next stop on our Old Testament journey - the book of Lamentations. Lamentations has been called the saddest book in the Bible. It is actually a series of five poetic dirges, or laments.
For forty years, and through a succession of five different kings, Jeremiah’s message had been the same - repent and turn back to God or Jerusalem will be attacked and destroyed. (See Jeremiah 21) For forty years, he had been ignored, harassed, and humiliated.
In about 588 BC, Jeremiah found out that King Zedekiah had decided to stop paying tribute to Babylon. He immediately went to the king and not only begged him to continue to honor the treaty but he went a step further and suggested that Zedekiah surrender to Nebuchadnezzar (see Jer 38:17-18). That way, the coming disaster might be averted. Zedekiah, in a move that showed his arrogance, thumbed his nose at Babylon and refused to pay the tribute (see Jeremiah 52:3) .
Nebuchadnezzer’s reaction was swift. He immediately dispatched his army and placed the city of Jerusalem under a blockade. The city held out for a year and half. These eighteen months turned out to be the darkest time in the history of the great City of David.
Jeremiah had encouraged the people to seek refuge inside the walled cities (Jer 4:4). Jerusalem’s population swelled to a point that there were people everywhere. Although there was an internal water supply, there was only so much food and eventually it ran out. On top of that, there was no fuel to cook the food if that found it. Eventually they would use human waste to cook. There was garbage everywhere and no way to keep clean. As the months wore on, disease spread like wildfire through the swollen city. Once people died, there was no where to put them and Jeremiah indicates that corpses were thrown over the city walls. It got so bad that the residents resorted to cannibalism (2:17; 4:8-10). It was complete chaos and it was only to get worse.
The siege lasted from the winter months of Zedekiah’s ninth year to the summer of his eleventh year. The last chapter of Jeremiah records the fall of Jerusalem (Jer 52).
Nebuchadnezzer’s army broke through the wall and laid waste the entire city. Everything was burned to the ground, including the Temple and Solomon’s palace. They plundered the gold, sliver, and bronze. They killed indiscriminately, ravaged the young women,and captured Zedekiah. His ten sons were put to death, eyes gouged out, and he was taken to Babylon. They completely destroyed everything.
As soon as it started it was over. The great Jerusalem laid in ruins, smoldering and desolate.
To this day, the Jews mourn this event. Every August 4th, the book of Lamentations is read aloud in synagogues around the world. The remembrance ceremony is a time of fasting and confession of sins to commemorate the destruction of the Temple.
Jeremiah’s Grief
Jeremiah had predicted this disaster. He had warned and begged and pleaded. He had witnessed it all first hand. The unspeakable had happened and he is overwhelmed with sorrow, with grief.
Tradition holds that Jeremiah sat in a cave on a hill that overlooked the city. He wrote a series of dirges that would become known as “Lamentations.” As he wrote, tears flowed down his face and onto the parchment. The “weeping prophet” couldn’t believe what he saw.
One of the most moving experiences for me as we visited New York City last summer with the students, was our trek to “ground zero.” If you have ever been to New York, you know it is a mass of humanity. It’s loud and crowded everywhere you go. As we approached Ground Zero, the strangest thing happened. It got quiet, very quiet. It’s as if everyone stopped talking all at once. They’ve built ramps that you walk up and are able to see the entire scene. Once we were there, no one said a word. I looked over the railing into the cavernous hole, and I became overwhelmed with the immensity of the tragedy. There were several people crying near me. We all just stood there, numbed in our collective grief.
This exactly what is happening with Jeremiah. Well, not exactly. It wasn’t just a couple of city blocks. This was the whole city of David, God’s city. As he looks out over the city he loves, he sees the walls broken down (2:8), the gates destroyed (2:9), and the Temple burned (Jer 52:13). The streets, once bustling with activity are empty. It is a ghost town.
He begins with the Hebrew word for “how.” This is a word commonly used in Hebrew dirges. It can also be translated “alas” or “oh.” It’s as if Jeremiah let out a big sigh and wrote, “How could this have happened?”
And so begins the lament.
A Process
While it is true that everyone experiences grief in unique and personal ways, there are some common emotions that we all deal with when going through grief. We all experience similar emotions as we try to process loss.
This morning, I want us to look at several of these common grief reactions in light of Jeremiah’s sorrow - shock, depression, and acceptance.
Shock and Denial
When we experience a loss, our immediate reaction is one of shock. The more devastating the loss, the more intense the shock and denial. Granger Westberg calls this God’s “temporary anesthesia.” It protects us from the full emotional impact of the tragedy by giving us a brief escape from reality.
A person in shock may not even cry and often times is praised for their “strength” through the storm. But when the storm passes, their strong facade crumbles.
I could talk about shock all day but a picture is worth a thousand words. This picture was taken ninety-eight minutes after President Kennedy was assassinated. Jackie’s dress and gloves are covered with her husband’s blood and brain tissue. That is the face of shock. Her entire reality had been shaken and her brain couldn’t process all that was happening.
Jeremiah looked over the devastated city of Jerusalem and experiences shock and denial. We can see it in the first word he uses - “how?” As you read the first chapter, you can hear the prophet trying to make sense of the scene in front of his eyes. Even though he had told the people this event was coming, even he was surprised by the intensity of the horror.
“How lonely sits the city that was once full of people...” (Lam 1:1)
He is astounded by her fall:
“Her fall was astounding; there was no one to comfort her.” (Lam 1:9)
Not only was he in shock, but he gives Jerusalem the voice of an widow in morning:
“Is it nothing to you who pass, all you who pass by? Look around and see. Is any suffering like my suffering, that was afflicted on me...” (Lam 1:12)
Even other nations had trouble comprehending all that had happened:
“The kings of the earth did not believe, nor did any of the world’s people, that enemies and foes could enter the gates of Jerusalem.” (Lamentations 4:12)
When we are confronted with a loss, our natural defenses take over and protect us for a time. But eventually, the reality of the situation breaks through and the shock wears off.
Then the emotions can go haywire. Anger, fear, guilt, panic, and anxiety can overwhelm a person. But the most common reaction is tears.
[Clip of “End of the spear”]
Depression and Despair
Shock gives way to anger which leads into the next stage - depression. This is when the tears flow freely. There can be an overwhelming sense of hopelessness, frustration, bitterness, self-pity, feeling out of control, numbness, irrational fear, and physical symptoms. It is a natural part of the grieving process.
It is times like this when well-meaning Christians say some of the most hurtful things.
When I was at the funeral home with Leanne’s family, one of our deacons became the poster child for how not to comfort grieving people. As people were huddled together, crying, he would proclaim, “Why are crying? She’s in heaven. Can you imagine the sights she’s seen so far? O praise God. She’s with Jesus. Why all the tears?”
Finally, Maxine told me to get him away from her. I told him that if he didn’t be quiet he would be joining Leanne very quickly! I reminded him that he had a teenager daughter and would feel very different if it was his child in that casket. He got the message and stayed silent. Paul advice is right: “Mourn with those who mourn...” (Rom 12:15)
In chapter one and two of Lamentations, Jeremiah keeps his grief at arms length. But in chapter three, he becomes very personal.
He feels like he is in the dark:
“He has driven me away and made me dwell in darkness rather than light...He has made me dwell in darkness like those long dead.” (Lam 3:2,6)
He feels like God has turned against him:
“Like a bear lying in wait, like a lion in hiding, he dragged me from the path and mangled me and left me without help. He drew His bow and made me the target of His arrows.” (Lam 3:10-11)
He feels physical pain:
“He has made my skin and my flesh grow old and has broken my bones.” (Lam 3:4)
“He broken my teeth with gravel and has trampled me in the dust.” (Lam 3:16)
He feels emotional pain:
“He has filled me with bitterness and sated me with gall.” (Lam 3:15)
He feels trapped:
“He has walled me in so that I can not escape; He has weighed me down with chains.” (Lam 3:7)
He feels like his prayers are bouncing off the ceiling:
“Even when I call out or cry out for help, He shuts out my prayers.” (Lam 3:8)
He feels no peace and his soul is tormented:
“I have been deprived of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is.”
He feels hopeless:
“My splendor is gone and all that I hoped from the Lord.” (Lam 3:18)
His sadness is overwhelming:
“...my soul is downcast within me.” (Lam 3:20)
Jeremiah lives up to his nickname as the “weeping prophet.” He sits in his cave, overlooking Jerusalem, and just falls apart. He writes:
“My eyes fail from weeping, I am in torment within, my heart is poured out on the ground because my people are destroyed.” (Lam 2:11)
Tears are important part of grieving. God gave us tears for when words are just not enough. As men, we are taught that “big boys don’t cry.” Well, that’s just wrong.
When I was in seminary, Maxine and I worked with the student ministry at a large church. We became close to one of the college students there named Jeremy. I got a call one afternoon to come to the emergency room immediately. Jeremy had offered to take one of our leaders to get his keys,(he had locked himself out of the car), and a friend named Campbell decided to ride along. On the way, Jeremy pulled in front of a cement truck, causing a horrific crash.
We were all waiting out on the lobby. By that time there were about fifty students there. Jeremy was very tall and I was actually standing on a table with my hands on his shoulders when the news came that Campbell had died. I felt his body go completely rigid and then he fell to the ground, sobbing and screaming, “I killed my best friend.” It probably took eight guys to hold him down. The pain that poured out of this kid was more than any of us could bear. He was beyond devastated. A group of guys stayed up all night with him praying as he walked through the dark tunnel of unimaginable pain. That night, his tears spoke of sorrow that words could not express.
Just this week, a similar thing happened. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to scream and hit a pillow. It’s okay to question. Grief is a process, sometimes a very slow process. Remember, we “walk through the valley of the shadow of death” (see Psalm 23:7).
Acceptance
There comes a time when the pain is not so sharp and the tears slow down. This does not mean that the pain ever goes away though.
I read an article about John Edwards in which he talked about his sixteen year old son that was killed in a car wreck. He described it this way, “It’s as if I had my leg cut off. The initial shock and pain wears off but, every time you look down, you remember something’s missing.”
Some of you know this pain. Even this morning, it feels like something’s missing.
This is the stage where one realizes that it takes two take make a marriage work, that there are other jobs out there, that there is purpose in all the pain.
In the middle of chapter three, Jeremiah abruptly changes directions. The first eighteen verses are a full of depression, hopelessness, and mourning. Then we come to the hinge verse of Lamentations:
“Yet this I call to mind, and therefore I will have hope.” (Lam 3:21)
He intentional concentrates on what he knows to be true. He literally pushes the pain and the sorrow to the side and allows his knowledge of the nature of God to come forward.
Many commentators believe that in the midst of Jeremiah’s anguish, the Lord’s presence surrounded him and overwhelmed him with hope.
When I was at Leanne’s visitation, one of her good friends completely broke down. He just totally lost it. Several students and I surrounded him and laid hands on him and prayed over hi15m. Something happened during that prayer that I still really do not understand. Several of the students said that they experienced what I did but also had trouble describing it. It is as if the Holy Spirit surrounded us and literally wrapped us in a bubble of hope. His presence was so real that we were all deeply moved. To this day, I’ve never experienced anything like it.
In the midst of our sorrow, God is not on vacation. He is “close to the broken-hearted and to those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
Jeremiah had been focusing on the grief. He turns about and remembers God’s faithfulness.
What is is reason for hope?
Listen to some of the richest words every written about God:
“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness. (Lam 3:22-24)
* Jeremiah realizes that, although things are bad, they would surely be worse without God’s great love for us. His mercy triumphs justice and we are not consumed in our sins.
* He affirms God’s never ending concern about him. The word “compassion” means to be moved in the heart out of love for another.” His compassions never fail.
* He celebrates the fact that there is always a tomorrow. Many times, people who are grieving need to be reminded that tomorrow’s a new day. A day full of possibilities and hope - they are new every morning.
Corrie Ten Boom, writing on her experiences during her time in a concentration camp during WWII said: “There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still.”
* He then writes what would later become the chorus of a great hymn of our faith - Great is Your Faithfulness.” In the midst of utter destruction Jeremiah declares that God can be trusted and his faithfulness is proved even in the calamity He brought upon Jerusalem:
“The Lord has done what He planned; He has fulfilled His Word which He decreed long ago.” (Lam 2:17)
When the allies where liberating Europe at the end of World War II, they went house to house searching for survivors. While exploring a barn, they came across a Star of David and below were scrawled these words:
I believe in the sun...even when it doesn’t shine.
I believe in love...even when it isn’t shown
I believe in God...even when He doesn’t speak
Remember the person who describe grief as crawling through “broken glass?” I didn’t read you the whole comment:
“It hurt so much but I knew the only way out was to keep moving and believe that there was an end to it somehow- to believe that I could last until the beginnings of hope began to grow.”
Grieve Not?
The apostle Paul, writing many years later, gave us a prescription for grieving. In his letter to the church at Thessalonica he wrote:
“Brothers I don’t want you to be ignorant about those who fall asleep, or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.” (I Thes 4:13)
The Bible says it’s right to grieve. It’s okay to express strong emotions and questions. Tears should never be suppressed for fear of not being spiritual. If Jesus Himself sobbed at the death of His friend Lazarus, should he not feel the freedom to cry as well?
That’s why it is important to remember that when you shake your fist toward heaven and scream, “You don’t know how I feel?” God answers quietly, “Actually, I do.”
Paul writes there should be a difference between Christians and others when the go through the grieving process. We should always remember that we have a faithful God who will walk through the valley with us. We are never alone. And most importantly, we know that death is not the end.
I will see Leanne again. Do you how I know that?
Because, according to Jewish tradition, the name of the hill that Jeremiah sat on as he scanned the city of Jerusalem was named Golgatha. It is the very place that God’s mercy and love was shown in the most amazing, faithful way ever. Jesus, God’s Son, died on the cross, in your place, to pay the penalty for your sins, so that you could have hope even in the darkest night. (See John 3:16)
Today is Palm Sunday. On this day we celebrate Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. With all the fanfare, Jesus cried his own tears over the City of David.
“ As He approached Jerusalem and saw the city, He wept over and said, “If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace...” (Luke 19:41)
Do you know that there can be peace even in the midst of great pain?
Isaiah, speaking prophetically about the Messiah, wrote:
“He will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign Lord will wipe away the tears from all the faces...” (Isaiah 25:8)
We are going to end this morning a little differently. Several years ago, I went through a really dark time. Maxine’s mother was dying, at one point we thought I might have cancer, and I felt like my family was unraveling.
But I didn’t cry! Well, actually I did.
A song by Mark Shultz called “He Will Carry Me” became very important to me and I listened to it over and over again to remind me of God’s faithfulness to see me through the valley.
I’ve asked Jessie Leacock to put movement to this song. As you listen to the words and watch her, could you allow yourself to trust that God is ready, willing, and able to pick you up right now and carry you through your darkest hour?
He Will Carry Me
Mark Shultz
I call, You hear me
I’ve lost it all
And it’s more than I can bear
I feel so empty
You’re strong, I’m weary
I’m holding on
But I feel like giving in
But still You’re with me
Chorus:
And even though I’m walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I’ve been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
I know I’m broken
But You alone
Can mend this heart of mine
You’re always with me
(Chorus)
And even though I’m walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I’ve been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
He will carry me
And even though I feel so lonely
Like I have never been before
You never said it would be easy
But You said You’d see me through the storm
(Chorus)
And even though I’m walking
Through the valley of the shadow
I will hold tight to the hand of Him
Whose love will comfort me
And when all hope is gone
And I’ve been wounded in the battle
He is all the strength that I will ever need
He will carry me
He will carry me
He will carry me
Benediction:
“Great is Thy Faithfulness, great is Thy Faithfulness, morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed Thy Hand hath provided, great is Thy faithfulness, Lord unto me.”
