Acquainted With Grief

 Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26 ESV)

As a minister I am acquainted with grief. My call as a pastor has led me to stand beside people in very difficult moments. Called to a young mother struggling with how to tell her children their father was dead from a drug overdose. Called to a wharf where a family waits for hours as a fishing boat comes in where a man has dropped dead. Called to a young woman’s home after she has died of cancer in the early morning, then that same day called to the hospital bedside of a dear old saint breathing her last breaths. These are touching, holy moments, where words can fail, but presence and gentleness abide.

Even with all of these experiences, I still find grief difficult on a personal level. In 1999, just after my graduation from seminary, my brother-in-law died of a heart attack at 45. It hit the family hard. Instead of grieving, I went into minister mode, presiding over the service and making sure that was taken care of properly. And that has been my default position ever since.

I say this now because it is one year today since I lost my dearest friend. He had been such a support for me when I was in ministry in Cape Breton. He was the best man at my wedding. We shed tears together both times I left Cape Breton to work in ministry elsewhere. To say I still miss him would be an understatement. When Paul asks, “Death, where is thy sting,” I believe it is there. In that empty place in my heart. In that poignant moment when you say to yourself, I have to call and tell, and then realize you can’t. That is death’s sting. That is where it hits you.  No more Friday nights telling stories over a glass of good scotch. (Scotch with company is always the best scotch.)

This past Sunday, I preached on Jesus saying, “I am the resurrection and the life”to Martha after her brother's death. They are meant to be words of comfort. They are words I have said at almost all of the funerals at which I have presided. And then Jesus asks Martha, "Do you believe this?" Jesus asks us the same question, "Do you believe this?" This same man who has said, "Blessed are those who mourn" has said "I am the resurrection and the life." Do you believe this?

I do believe this. I do believe that Jesus is right now, in this moment the resurrection and the life. I believe that he has destroyed the power of death for all time by his own death and resurrection. Does it make dealing with my best friend's death easier? Nothing makes it easier, but believing these words of Jesus makes it different. As St. Paul writes,

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope. (1 Thessalonians 4:13, ESV)

We grieve differently as Christians. Death is a defeated enemy. Death is the enemy's attempt to sway us from Christ's way. To make us a people who have no hope. Can we be like Martha, who before seeing any proof, says that she believes Jesus to be the Christ. Jesus has shown us the way. He has shown he has power over death, and power to grant life eternal.

So tonight, I will pour a glass of scotch (10 year old Aberlour). I will grieve and miss my friend. I might even shed a tear. But I will still have hope.