Moving Through Grief

"Why do I feel the way I do? Why can't I get anything done? Why don't I feel like doing anything? Why do I cry at the drop of a hat?" If you are saying things like this to yourself, maybe you are joining many people in grieving what we have lost during the COVID-19 pandemic. My sermon today concentrates of the stages of grief. I hope that it will help you understand yourself (and others) a little better.

This morning, my message focuses on grief. We are all grieving right now. We are grieving the loss of friends and family who have passed away during the past month; and we are grieving the fact that we have not been able to mourn their loss with others. We are grieving the loss of eating lunch at Bob Evan’s with our friends, or spending an afternoon wandering the shops at the Greene. We are grieving the loss of events that we anticipated joyfully: graduation ceremonies, opening day of the baseball season, or taking a special vacation. In a larger sense, we are grieving the loss of a way of life that we are afraid might be lost forever! Just to enjoy the Troy Strawberry Festival on a sunny Sunday afternoon is impossible right now; and no one knows what will happen in the future.

Some of you are familiar with the work of Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross. Just about 50 years ago, she studied the reactions of cancer patients who were coping with their diagnosis. She found that coping with grief is a process that moves through several stages. You can see those stages in the Bible as God’s people have struggled with their own grief. Hearing their reactions can help us deal with the feelings that we have right now.

When we suffer a loss, the first thing that we experience is denial.      Numbers 14:1-4

That night, all the people of the community raised their voices and wept aloud. All the Israelites grumbled against Moses and Aaron, and the whole assembly said to them, “If only we had died in Egypt, or in the desert! Why is the Lord bringing us to this land, only to let us fall by the sword? Our wives and children will be taken as plunder! Wouldn’t it be better for us to go back to Egypt?” And they said to each other, “We should choose a leader and go back to Egypt.”

Back in mid-March when events began to be cancelled, I’ll bet I know what all of you said. “This can’t be happening! It will all be over soon, and we’ll go back to the way things were.” I said that. Remember what some people said? “Oh, this is all just hype that the press picked up. It’s not real.” We were all in denial. It’s just like experiencing shortness of breath and feeling like a heavy weight is on your chest (all classic symptoms of a heart attack), and saying, “Oh, I don’t need to go to the doctor; there’s nothing wrong with me.” What’s that clever saying? “Denial is not just a river in Egypt.” Now, there’s nothing wrong with denial in small doses. Denial gives us time to adjust to reality without being completely overwhelmed. Insisting to ourselves, “This can’t be real” keeps us mentally healthy even while we adjust to the fact that the situation is real. In the long run, though, constant denial isn’t a good idea. God didn’t lead the Israelites back to Egypt; and we can’t go back, either.

As they move past denial, some people get angry.                   Job 10:1-3, 8-9

I loathe my very life, therefore I will give free reign to your complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul. I will say to God, “Do not condemn me, but tell me what charges you have against me. Does it please you to oppress me, to spurn the work of your hands, while you smile on the schemes of the wicked? Your hands shaped me and made me. Will you now turn and destroy me? Remember that you molded me like clay. Will you now turn me to dust again?”

I talked about Job last Sunday when I considered how overwhelmed many of us are; and here he is again today. Job is a great example of someone who is sunken in the depths of grief. He simply experienced more than he could deal with! Job was white-hot with anger. And he took out his anger on God because there was no one else to blame. God is blamed all the time for tragic deaths and natural disasters. But in the current crisis, it’s easy to blame somebody other than God for the coronavirus and for our response to it. Lots of people are blaming China, and taking it out on anyone who looks Chinese. Some are even claiming that China manufactured this virus and unleashed it on the world! Others are blaming people in authority for our isolation: The World Health Organization, our state governors, even scientists and doctors! Still others (especially those who love conspiracy theories) are blaming technology; and some are even trying to destroy cell phone towers because they believe that some kind of radiation is causing the viral outbreak. Oh, the blame game is so easy to play when you’re angry! My guess is that we have all been angry about this pandemic at one time or another. And that’s OK! Anger is a normal, healthy response to grief. Dr. Kubler-Ross said that loss “is unfair. Anger is a natural reaction to the unfairness of loss.” God understands our anger. But we need to move through that anger to a more productive response.

After anger, many people fall into the depths of depression.               Psalm 6:1-3, 6

O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath. Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint. O Lord, heal me, for I am in agony. My soul is in anguish. How long, O Lord, how long? I am worn out from groaning. All night long I flood my bed with weeping and drench my couch with tears. My eyes grow weak with sorrow.

The psalmist was certainly despairing when he wrote this. “Life doesn’t seem to be worth living.” “I cry all the time.” “I can’t find any pleasure in anything anymore.” “I feel like I’m stuck.” These are the kinds of things that grieving people say when they are sunk into despair. Folks who deal with clinical depression know exactly what it feels like. Despair is like a bottomless pit that seems to go on forever. It is a shadow that sticks to you like glue and won’t let you go. Some people describe it as a demon that sits on your shoulder and whispers into your ear that things will never, ever get better. Despair is the Good Friday of our soul. It tries to convince us that God has forsaken us and left us to live in perpetual misery. But despair is a liar! God never forgets us! The prophet Hosea spoke on God’s behalf when he said, “When Israel was a child, I loved him, and out of Egypt I called my [people]. It was I who taught [them] to walk, taking them by the arms. I led them with cords of human kindness, with ties of love. I was like one who lifts a little child to the cheek, and I bent down to feed them.” (from Hosea, chapter 11) God’s essence is love; and God has promised never to leave us alone. Jesus wept at the tomb of Lazarus; and he weeps with us, too, when we suffer losses.  If you are in despair right now, mourning a loss that seems to be too great to bear, remember that God is there mourning right along with you; and that your despair won’t last forever.

After all the denials, the anger, and the despair, we move towards the peace of acceptance and finding new meaning in our lives.              2 Corinthians 5:14b-18

We are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on, we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, that one is a new creation! The old has gone, the new has come! All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.

When we accept what has happened, we begin to see our losses from a new perspective; and that opens the door to experiencing God’s peace that passes all understanding. Are we still angry sometimes? Of course. Do we still despair from time to time? Probably. But the anger and despair no longer control our lives. When we accept what has happened, we can allow God’s grace to flow over us and free us from the burdens that we have been carrying. Finding new meaning is Easter morning after the darkness of Good Friday. It is the rainbow that follows the hurricane. It is the joy and wonder that we feel when we realize that God is, once again, making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. To quote Dr Kubler-Ross once more: “The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths.” When you are a person like that, she writes, “You will be whole again. but you will never be the same… nor would you want to [be].” This is God’s intention for all of us: to move through our losses to the new meaning that God wants to help us create in our lives! If you aren’t in this place yet, don’t give up hope. Most of us aren’t there yet. We are all struggling with our losses in the midst of the hurricane, and we can’t see that rainbow yet; but God has promised that it’s on the way. Hold on to that promise! God will never forsake us! Thanks be to God!

Overwhelmed

What can we focus on when we are overwhelmed? Do we lose ourselves in the past when times were easier? Do we begin an elaborate blame game so that we can target something or at someone at whom to be angry? Do we try to ignore the situation? Maybe, we do all three at one time or another. But there is a better solution. My sermon suggests it.

Are any of you feeling overwhelmed right now? I know that you are, because you’ve told me. I am certainly feeling overwhelmed! I am overwhelmed with just the number of changes that I have needed to make in my daily life! I feel like I am standing on shifting sand. Just about the time that I think I have figured out what life is going to be like, it changes; and I am back to square one!

Some of you, though, are overwhelmed with a lot more than that. Some of you are dealing with loved ones who are in long-term care facilities, and you are prevented from visiting them in person. Others of you have loved ones who work in the health care field, and you’re worrying that they may fall victim to the COVID virus that has already claimed so many lives. And all of us are grieving! We’re grieving losses of familiar schedules, anticipated events that have been cancelled, and even just the comfort of sharing lunch with a friend. High school seniors are grieving the loss of what should have been a once-in-a-lifetime moment in their lives, and might be forever lost to them as we remain isolated. Yes, we’re all overwhelmed in one way or another!

We’re not the first ones to be overwhelmed with what life throws at us. Job is the poster child for being overwhelmed. Just read what happened to him on the very same day! Within just a few minutes, Job heard the news that he had lost every one of his seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred donkeys and nearly all the servants who were caring for them. He was wiped out in less time than it takes to list all the wealth that he once enjoyed. And if that weren’t bad enough, all his children – all seven sons and three daughters – were killed in a freak windstorm that collapsed the house on their heads. Job lost everything that he had, and nearly everyone that he loved in one dreadful day! Oh, yes, Job was overwhelmed, all right. When his friends came to visit him, Job was sitting in the ashes suffering what no human being should ever suffer. He wasn’t shy about telling them how he felt, either! “Why am I even living?” he asked. “I can’t cope with all this!” Job could be the poster child for the world “overwhelmed.”

And then, God showed up. Now, God didn’t give Job a reason for what had happened to him. God merely pointed to the grandeur of the cosmos. I only read you a tiny fraction of God’s response to Job in chapters 38, 39, and 40. Beginning with creation itself, God showed Job how vast and astonishing creation really is, and how powerful God is to be able to care for all of it. In four chapters of magnificent Hebrew poetry, God showed Job the marvels of the heavens, the wonders of weather, the diversity of animals and birds, and even the breathtaking spectacle of sea monsters who cannot be controlled by any human being. And at the conclusion of God’s speech, Job confessed, “I had heard of you with my ears, but now I have seen you with my eyes; and – wow – I had no idea!” Job moved from being overwhelmed with his own loss to being overwhelmed with God’s grandeur.

The New Testament offers us a similar, although much shorter, story (John 20:19-20). On the evening of Easter, the disciples were overwhelmed, too. They had locked themselves into a room for safety, overwhelmed with the reality that their master had been crucified just days earlier, and terrified that the same men who had killed Jesus might come for them, too. They had been convinced that Jesus was God’s Messiah; and they expected him to establish God’s kingdom on earth. But just when the disciples thought that Jesus might be ready to establish that kingdom; after Jesus had challenged the power of Rome by riding into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday; after Jesus had challenged the power of the religious authorities by clearing the Temple of all its officially-sanctioned greed and corruption; after all that, Jesus didn’t establish God’s kingdom. On the contrary, Jesus was crucified as a common criminal. The expectations of the disciples had disappeared as quickly as Job’s wealth. In one horrible day, they, too, had lost everything.

But then, Jesus showed up. Just like God showed up to Job when he was overwhelmed, Jesus showed up to his overwhelmed disciples; but Jesus showed them much more than the wonders of creation. Jesus showed them his wounded hands and pierced side, and the disciples realized that he had been raised from the dead! John’s gospel tells us that they were “overjoyed,” but I imagine that they were overwhelmed, too. How could you NOT be overwhelmed when someone that you thought was lost to you forever is restored to you – and restored forever?! They, too, moved from being overwhelmed with loss to being overwhelmed with joy at what God had done.

And what about us? We are all overwhelmed with loss right now, too: loss of our familiar schedules, loss of being able to gather with friends, loss of the expectations that we once had that our lives would go on more or less normally no matter what happened. We know now that those expectations led us into a false sense of security. Like Job – like the disciples – our expectations didn’t match reality; and we were overwhelmed when reality pulled the rug out from underneath us. But here’s the thing – God is also reality; and God is greater than anything that life can throw at us! When we are overwhelmed, God is the reality on which we need to focus. If we focus on the coronavirus, or on the stock market, or even on our leaders, we will soon become overwhelmed. I suggest that we focus on the grandeur of the universe that points to the power of its Creator; and on the resurrection power that raised Jesus from the dead. If we allow that to overwhelm us, we will be spared some of the agony that Job and the disciples experienced. Oh, sure, life will still be difficult. But we need not allow it to overwhelm us, because God’s power is greater than everything in all creation! Paul described that power beautifully in the book of Romans (8:38-39): “I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God that is Christ Jesus our Lord.” The One who created the universe and everything in it is the same One who died and was raised for us! And that, friends, is something that is truly overwhelming!

From Darkness to Light

This year's Easter message ponders the darkness of Easter morning; and the darkness that we frequently experience. That very darkness gives rise to light and to the life that we celebrate!

We don’t like the darkness. Our sense of sight fools us into thinking that we are in control of events taking place around us; and that sense of sight is impaired in the darkness. It reminds us that any control we think we have is largely an illusion. The darkness makes us feel alone and lost. Oh, no, we don’t like the darkness.

But the darkness is where life always begins. Scientists believe that life on earth began in the darkness of a primeval ocean, when the Spirit of God touched a glob of chemicals, and they began to reproduce themselves. Jesus’ earthly life began in the darkness of Mary’s womb, when the Spirit of God overshadowed her, and the power of the Divine created life where no life should have been. Jesus’ resurrected life began in darkness, too – in the darkness of a borrowed tomb, sealed by a stone that blocked the entrance of any glimmer of light – when that same Spirit of God took him by the hand and raised him up, breaking the chains of death.

Is it possible that any real birth begins in the darkness? When the Spirit of God works the most powerfully, it is in the midst of oppression, suffering, and despair. The Spirit of God worked in the land of Egypt, freeing the ancient Hebrews from the darkness of slavery. The Spirit of God worked in the heart of the king of Persia, inspiring him to allow the Israelites to return to their own country after 60 long years in the darkness of exile. In our own country, the Spirit of God worked in the life of Martin Luther King, moving him to risk his life working for justice for African-Americans who suffered the darkness of segregation. The Spirit of God still works in our own lives wherever there is darkness, bringing hope out of despair and new life out of death.

That life refuses to stay in the darkness! Life always moves toward the light as if it knows that is where it belongs! Flowers grow towards the light as they stretch their blooms towards the sun. Jesus was born from Mary’s womb into the starlight that changed into daylight with the dawn. The resurrected Christ emerged from his tomb into the starlight, too, before dawn had broken on that first Easter Sunday morning; but with the dawn came the awesome realization that the Light of the world was alive forevermore! Once again, although life began in the darkness, it refused to stay there.

This morning, I’m going to share with you a meditation that was recently written by Rev. David Long-Higgins, the Conference Minister of our own United Church of Christ Heartland Conference. He eloquently describes Easter morning as a movement from the darkness to the light. The words in italics are his.

I have always been struck by how John’s retelling of the resurrection narrative begins: “…while it was still dark…Mary comes…the stone is moved away from the entrance to the tomb.” It seems to me there is a gift in this description that lends itself to our own discoveries of the power of resurrection. In the monastic life of prayer this emergence of light is called the hour of lauds. It is that moment when we receive the gift of the new day at sunrise, discovering not something separate from the darkness, but in continuity with it. It is a discovery that even in darkness, maybe especially in darkness, God has been at work readying creation for a new beginning. So, resurrection begins while it is still dark. Life expresses itself with an eager longing before the eye can distinguish the forms which will offer shape to the day. You may have noticed that sometimes it is the ear that recognizes this holy emergence before the eye can apprehend it. Jesus appears to Mary and she does not recognize him until he calls her by name.

I wonder if you have ever noticed that birds begin their singing long before the sun showers the earth in light. It is almost as if these little angels announce the profound re-awakening of life through which God’s love has the power to move and make all things new. John’s text reminds us that such new beginnings have openings that are often surprising to the extent that sometimes we are driven to fear before we are drawn to awe. Our expectations interrupted, we are stopped in such a way that we begin to notice life in great depth. All of this is part of resurrection’s power and gift, made known to us profoundly in the experience of Jesus and his followers. But this motion of resurrection continues, even now…especially now. This can be particularly important to notice in this time of the COVID 19 pandemic. Yes, there have been deaths and the terrible grief which accompanies them. Yes, there has been a kind of entombment which sheltering at home has fostered in our hearts and minds. But there is something more. There is in all of this darkness an urge toward life and connection, generosity and grace. There is a song in the air, if you rise early enough and listen patiently enough, that resonates not just in the ear but also in the heart. It dares to whisper and then shout, “I love you! You belong to me! I will never leave you alone!”

Yes, the sun rises [in the sky]. Yes, the Son rises [from the grave]! Yes, there is a rising all around us. Let us pause to savor it and dare again and again to trust the ancient story that is making itself new with every flower, every bird, every word that utters the sacred refrain, “Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed!”

Christ is risen! The darkness of oppression and greed, suffering and death have all done their worst, and they have lost the battle. One of my favorite Easter hymns proclaims, “The strife is o’er, the battle done; the victory of life is won! All glory to the risen Son! Alleluia!” From darkness to light, from death to life, from grief to joy – this is the story of Easter morning. And we can see it told again wherever the Spirit moves, because that is the work of the Spirit – to create life out of death, to create hope out of despair, to shower grace like refreshing spring rain! Christ is risen! Christ is risen, indeed! Thanks be to God!