Sting of Death

Listen, I will tell you a mystery 1 Corinthians 15

One week ago at this exact time, we gathered in the church I grew up in; the church where I was ordained; the church that had been a source of hope and deep inspiration.  Only this time, the reason for the gathering was laden with heavy hearts as we were there to celebrate my mother's, Joyce, life.

I don't know exactly what you are supposed to feel when your mother passes away.  I have gone through about as many emotions as Kleenex.  I was numb for quite awhile, even thought I knew my mother's health had been deteriorating for the last year and half.  I was angry, sad, hopeful, filled with God's grace and peace, and there were also moments of laughter as we talked about how mom loved the seasons of Thanksgiving and Christmas.  We even sang, "Hark the Herald Angels Sing" at her funeral, not because it was her absolute hands-down favorite carol.  More because mom is now part of the heavenly hosts that sing in harmony and in peace in God's embrace.

Grief is different for all of us.  Paul says the church in Corinthian that death has been swallowed up and has lost its sting.  That is, of course, the Easter message.  Jesus' death and resurrection changes everything.  Yet, let's be honest, death still has a sting worse than when I stepped on a hornet's nest ten years ago and my angle swelled to twice it's normal size.  Death still has a sting that is not erased or easily treated.  Hugs and cards help.  But death leaves its mark upon us all.

We are, by and large, a death denying culture.  We don't like to talk about it.  We feel awkward at visitations, standing there next to a coffin trying to comfort the family, and all our good thoughts and prayers won't seem to be formed on our lips, and resist our attempts to be expressed.  Yet, because we feel like we cannot fix death, we try to avoid it.  In some ways, the advances in medicine are certainly about better health, but they are also about prolonging our life...pushing off death.  But, medicine will one day fail us.

Unfortunately, I wonder if the church fails us too.  We rarely, outside of funerals and Good Friday services, talk about death.  We don't talk about grief.  Yet the truth is we experience the faithful mixture of life, death, and resurrection all the time.  We may not use those words.  We might talk about anger or pain; we might speak about coincidences or good timing.  But what we really experience is death and resurrection as key parts of our life.

Right now, that is certainly true for me.  I faced my mother's death...but I also felt wrapped by too many hugs to count.  I certainly miss hearing my mom's voice...but I also have had some amazing conversations with my father.  I will miss my mom's cards...but I also know that so many people sent sympathy cards that I have received more than enough from Hallmark to last me awhile.  In short, death and resurrection has been mixed into my life in a new way.

I cannot explain how that is any better than Paul.  It is a mystery.  One that I will not wrap my mind around to fully understand for some time, I suspect.  Yet, some how, in some very profound ways, I am wrapping my life around this truth.  There is for me more than a trace of God's grace in this.

May the brokenness and grief you experience in your life right now also find the hope, grace, and love that comes from God with a renewed sense that life matters and your life matters to God.

Blessings~