Jesus Wept. --John 11:35
(I bet you can't look at this verse without smiling a bit, remembering, perhaps, when you were a child and had to memorize a Bible verse every week for Sunday School. And there was that one week when you put it off, and panicked-- and discovered this shortest verse in all of Scripture. And you may have also had a teacher who pointed out to you just how apropos it was for your situation, as Jesus was probably weeping at that moment. But I digress before I even begin.)
Sunday, December 2, marks the first Sunday in Advent in the Christian church year. It is our "New Year's Day" as we begin again to tell the story of God's entry in to the world, clothed in flesh and wrapped in rags.
Over the next four weeks, we will hear prophecies of hope, light candles of joy and peace and sing many, many hymns that look forward to the coming of the Saviour. It's a happy time, indeed, in the life of the church.
And I bet I don't have to tell you that the world of retail gets pretty happy this time of year, too, with Black Friday sales and all that follows. Everything in our lives seems to "kick it up a notch" in busy-ness and things to buy and things to do, reasons to celebrate.
And we are all supposed to be excited and happy, too. But sometimes-- that is just not the case. And that is okay.
Perhaps you have had a loss in your life this past year or so. Maybe at Christmas you become acutely aware of the empty place at the head of the table. Or the far side of your bed. Or the high chair in the corner. Jesus suffered loss, as well. The Son of the Most High suffered the loss of his dear friend Lazarus-- and Jesus wept. Publicly and uncontrollably, Jesus wept for his friend.
Maybe 2012 held a diagnosis of serious illness, for yourself or someone you love, or the loss of a job or a reduction in income. Maybe you have found it difficult to share with your family or friends just how deeply this has shaken your faith. If not for his friends, the man who was unable to walk might never have found his way through the roof and into the powerful, healing presence of Jesus (Mark 2). It is okay-- any time-- to feel deeply and to lean upon caring friends.
If Bartimaeus, the blind beggar, had not cried out in agony to the Lord, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me," he may never have received the healing touch of Christ that allowed him to experience wholeness (Mark 10). It is okay to cry out in a loud voice, in joy or in desperation. Goodness, our Lord himself did so from the cross (Mark 15), "My God, my God-- why have you forsaken me?" Why would we think we should do any less? It is okay.
And it is also important to understand that you are not alone. And in this case, I do not mean that in a pious, "Jesus never leaves us" kind of way, although that is true, as well. What I mean is, I can guarantee that whatever sadness, whatever feelings of aloneness or isolation or anguish you are experiencing this Advent season, someone else is going through something very, very similar.
When the tears well up behind your eyes, let them come. It is okay. They will stop, I promise. You may feel like if you let even one tear squeeze out, the torrents will follow and you will be unable to stop the flow. But they will stop. When you have cried out in your pain and allowed yourself to admit you are human, eventually the pain lessens and the tears stop. Eventually.
And know, in that deep place in your heart where it sometimes hurts too much to look, that God has not forsaken you. No matter how alone you feel. Look for the Divine in the face of another. In the silent presence of someone who understands. In the listening ear of someone who, herself, has railed against the Almighty in anger and anguish-- and was not struck down, but instead, came to understand that God can handle it and was lifted out of the mire of grief-- eventually. And understand that God does not punish God's children for being themselves before the throne. In the Garden of Gethsemane (Mark 14), before he was led away to be crucified, we glimpse the very humanity of Christ. If it was good enough for him. . . .
You are not alone this Christmas. And it is okay not to feel completely happy all the time.
Amen.
No comments:
Post a Comment