Monday, October 29, 2018


Paradox: Grief and Celebration

A Sermon for the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith

By Griff Martin

John 11: 1-44

On October 28

All Saints Day



Sermon: 



Incarnate and Resurrected God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it into a living and breathing new reality we can all together experience. Make us aware of you presence here in this space and in these words God for if we are present to you then nothing else will matter, but if you are not present to you then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and the Comforter.  Amen.



In Houston I volunteered as a Chaplain at the local hospital, which meant that 2 times a month I was on call for overnights in case anything tragic happened and a pastoral counselor was needed. It was late one night when I got a call, a gentleman had passed away and they needed my assistance.



I headed to the hospital and went to the room where his body was, I sat there for almost an hour, just me and formerly him. Finally I asked a nurse where the family was and she said, “Oh they haven’t told you? His wife is refusing to come.” I looked confused and she said we have called her several time and she says traffic is too bad to drive, then she explained that hospital policy precludes them from telling a loved one someone has died, they just have to say “their condition has changed.” (which was the most obvious truth I knew in this situation, living to dead is quite the condition change). So I made the call, explaining that conditions had changed and we needed her to come to the hospital bc “his condition has changed… a lot”…. “Can’t drive in the traffic” she said.



So after several conversations it was decided that I would go get her and bring her to the hospital. But again I could not tell her that her husband had passed until we arrived back at the hospital and I had the on call doctor with me. So I went and picked her up, and oddly enough she did not ask abut him, instead we made quite pleasant small talk.



When we went arrived at the hospital we went to a small counseling room because by now his room was needed and he had been placed in the hospital morgue. So the doctor told her, her response was a simple “okay.”



And then in a moment that I will never forget the doctor says to me, “Now I am needed in surgery so as the chaplain you can take her to the morgue to show you the body.” This was not in my training. So we headed to the morgue, a very small room in the basement of the hospital. Thank God on the way there she needed to use the ladies room which gave me time to do 2 things: 1) Take like 10 deep breaths because I had no clue what was going on here and 2) To call the nurse to ask where his body was in the morgue, to which the nurse said and I quote “I think it’s on the top right shelf but I am not positive.” 



Just to skip ahead, it was not. That was not his body. Which I discovered after unzipping someone else’s body bag. 



On the third try… yep third try, I pulled the right shelf out and it was his body. And it was the top shelf, just the top left. And the top shelf was higher than his wife, so she informed me I was going to need to lift her up so she could see him and say goodbye. 



Again we are in uncharted waters here, so I did it. I put my arms around her waist and lifted her up. And she sees him and begins to cry, finally a normal reaction, and then literally she stops crying and as I am holding her her, she turns her face to me and says: “Sweetheart, that bathroom I used down the hall, that bathroom has no toilet paper or tissue paper. So I really need to wash my hands.” 



I just stood there holding her in silence praying God would return that very instant. 



And then she started laughing and said, “That’s a funny thing to think abut now isnt’ it….. now why don’t you take me home?” 



And I did… and we continued our small talk until we got to her house and then she cried as I walked her to the door, “I am glad you were here with me.”  



Laughter, tears, awkward pauses, uncomfortable moments…..



I think that widow would really be at home in this service today, our celebration of All Saint’s Day because we seem to be struggling to process emotions right? I mean it’s a service where we celebrate those we have lost this year, celebrate those that we lost years ago but are still so present in our hearts, where we literally name our saints… and we do this in a service that has tears yes, but also moves towards a celebration and time of joy and hope. 



Surely when we name our saints we will do so with tears in our eyers and yet at the same time we will have grin lines suddenly appear on our faces. It’s our time to name that despite what the world might say grief is not a psychological disease, it’s part of being human, it’s the toughest work of being human. 



Tears and laughter, grief and celebration…. It’s paradox. In the words Anne Lamott shared with us last week: “All truth is paradox… For example, we learned as children that light is particles, nd in a predictable world we would all still agree. But then you have the annoying people who say and can prove that light is also waves, like undulations of water. The paradox is that both of these are true and they’re both true at the same time.”



And I don’t know if there is any other lens through which we can experience this text because this text contains two of the most profound truths of our existence.



Mary, Martha and Lazarus are Jesus’ people, this is his family. And it’s quite beautiful if you think about it because they are something else, three adults who for whatever reason have chosen to live together as a family unit, perhaps they have tried marriage and it ended poorly, perhaps they were never marriage material, we are never told why. What we know is that Jesus found these three, a non-traditional family structure and it felt like home to him. These were his people, this was where he rested, this was where he sought retreat, these were folks he could share life with, these were his friends. 



Our story begins with Jesus and the disciples off, doing ministry work and retreating. And on this trip word comes to them that Lazarus is sick, and it’s pretty bad, things are looking bleak. And Jesus gets word that Lazarus is sick and so this Jesus who has already healed so many folks, already raised Jairus’ daughter from the dead, already simply spoken a word from a distance and healed the Centurion’s servant, this Jesus simply offers a prayer and all is happily ever after with Mary, Martha and Lazarus, right? 



Except not. That is how I would have written the story. 



No, Jesus, same Jesus who has again healed so many folks, raised Jairus’ daughter and spoken a healing word from a distance… this Jesus, this time, just stays. In fact that word does not even really do justice. Jesus tarried. He drug his feet. He stayed according to his own time. I don’t love that, God tarrying is never my favorite experience in life. 



And yet, Jesus tarried. The sisters want him to come because they know he can heal Lazarus. Surely Lazarus wants him to come heal him. The disciples want to go.  And they wait and then Jesus calls a team meeting and the first words out of his mouth, “Lazarus is dead.” It’s so uncouth, it’s as if Jesus never received a Pastoral Counseling class. 



And then they head home. Four days too late. And in Jewish belief four days is what it takes for the soul to journey from life to death. After four days the soul is believed to no longer linger near the body. Jesus is arriving on his time, not our time. And Jesus is playing according to his rules, not ours; his theology, not our theology; and his plans, not our plans. I hate it when this happens. 



And Jesus arrives and Martha offers some of the most incredible words we have in Scripture. It’s hope in the resurrection, that the souls will all rise at some point in a new life and in a new way. She understands resurrection one way. Jesus though, the original tradition innovator, sees resurrection as a present reality. 



Truth one for us to discover: Death is not the final word for Jesus. Resurrection in the here and now is his final word, in other words, Love.



And Martha hears this and goes to get Mary, who is upset with Jesus. You should have been here. You could have done something. Do you see the reality of this moment? Lazarus is dead and I hurt like I have never hurt before. It’s words when know well, how many of us have cried out to Jesus, “Jesus if you had been here ____ would not have died.”



And Jesus does not respond with words, but with tears. And there has been a lot of theological discussion given to why Jesus wept and I personally think the answer is in this very text, it’s the community watching and how they respond when Jesus weeps, “See how much Jesus loved Lazarus” they say. I think Jesus weeps because someone he loves is gone, because death hurts, because absence is difficult. 



It’s part of being human. In Baton Rouge one of my mentors’ son had died a few years before I got there and he carried the weight of a parent who has buried a child. One day we were sitting at lunch and I got the courage to ask him, “How do you do it?” And he looked at me and tears started to fall, “Griff if I have given you the impression that I do it, I am sorry. I don’t. Several times a day I feel like I have been punched in the gut when I think about him. And I sit there and hurt and then I get up.”



Jesus wept suddenly had context for me.



Truth two for us to discover: Death hurts, grief hurts and there are losses that we will never get over in our life, we will carry them and we will weep over them the rest of our days. 



And then the story takes the turn we have all been anticipating it taking, it turns towards resurrection. It’s a turn I believe we wait for all our lives, the moment of resurrection or the next moment of resurrection. 



Jesus goes to the grave. He calls Lazarus forward. Then we get to one of my favorite verses in our Bible, “but Lord he stinketh.” It’s truth two discovered all over again, “death stinketh.” And then Jesus calls Lazarus out… and up from the grave Lazarus arose. 



And from that grave he walked out, fully alive, probably a bit confused. And the people stood there in awe, which is problematic because that was not their job. Just standing there all slack jawed and finally Jesus, I think we need to picture this scene right, Jesus finally taking a deep breath and looking at them, looking at us, and then in this tone that says, “Do I have to tell you everything?” Says “Unbind him and let him go….” I did my part, now you do yours.



When I read the text I always try to figure out who we are and most of the time I leave that to you…. You might find a different place to play hide and seek in the story than I have. But this morning on All Saint’s Day, I know who we are….. we are the crowd.



We are the crowd that is watching this story and seeing these two truths of life emerge.



Truth one for us to discover: Death is not the final word for Jesus. Resurrection in the here and now is his final word, in other words, Love.



Truth two for us to discover: Death hurts, grief hurts and there are losses that we will never get over in our life, we will carry them and we will weep over them the rest of our days. 



We see both of these truths acted out in front of us today as we read the names of our Saints who we have lost this past year. We experience both of these truths as we anticipate the moment later in this service when we practice naming our saints. And we hold both of these truths as paradox and as truth. Both and, not either or…. They are both true. Which means that death may still sting, but it does not terrify us. 



And in holding those truths, that truth, we witness resurrection and we hear the call of Jesus on our lives: “First Austin, unbind them.”



And because death no longer terrifies us, life no longer terrifies us and we join in the work of saints… the work of unbinding that which has been bound too long.



Because that is our calling as saints today, to do the work of unbinding. Maybe it’s new work, maybe it’s work that your saint left you to complete, maybe it’s work that your saint inspired you to finally imagine. 



Grief is difficult work but I believe it’s holy work. I won’t pretend to know where you are in the midst of it, but I know this all of us here today have at least one person we hold in our hearts in longing because they are no longer with us.



So hear these truths:



Death is not the final word for Jesus. Resurrection in the here and now is his final word, in other words, Love.



Death hurts, grief hurts and there are losses that we will never get over in our life, we will carry them and we will weep over them the rest of our days. 



Kate Braestrup is one of my favorite pastors. She lost everything in her life and spent years in suffering, years in grief. She writes about how much time she spent putting stones on top of her beloveds grave. Her words: “Someday, the last stone must be place, and we must walk away, but when? I think if I were my own minister, I would answer that question this way, and I won’t pretend it isn’t hard.



Go ahead. Arrange and rearrange the sones of top of your beloved’s grave. Keep arranging those stones for as long as it hurts to do it, then stop, just before you really want to.



Put the last stone on and walk away.



Then light your candle to the living. Say your prayers for the living. Give your flowers to the living. Leave the stones where they are, but take your heart with them. Your heart is not a stone. True love demands that like a bride with her bouqet, you toss your fragile glass heart into the crowd of living hands and trust that they will catch it.”



Amen and amen. 



--

Rev. Dr. Griff Martin

Senior Pastor

First Austin: a baptist community of faith


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