Sunday November 3rd, 2024 Worship

One of the decisions we have been intentional about making for our wedding is how to include special touches of our loved ones who have died. We are going to have an “in memorium” table with pictures, similar to what we have in the back of the church today. And, I’m coordinating with my parents to include little accents throughout the service, like my uncle’s watch for me to wear, and my grandpa’s ring on a necklace, and my grandma’s Bible. Our officiant was the assisting minister during a wedding we were at this summer, and she led a beautiful intro about how our loved ones who have died still surround us in the company of saints, on all days, but especially on these important ones. And I know when she leads that portion in our wedding, that I will be taking my cue from Jesus, and I will be weeping too. I’m going to try to pack a few of my grandpa’s handkerchiefs to have on hand that day…
The reality is, I have already done a lot of weeping. About two weeks ago, we placed my last remaining grandparent on hospice, and I have done a lot weeping. It is the best decision for her and what she needs, and we are also filled with so much anticipatory grief as we keep watch day by day. I told my mom that grandma had to at least make it to next week because I knew how hard it would be for me to lead this All Saints service if she had just died. Yet, despite all that, I couldn’t be more excited to preach on this Gospel reading because it is one of my favorites. If anything, I’m feeling the impact of it even more deeply this year, as Jesus and I have both been doing a lot of weeping.
I love this reading because it does a decent job of encapsulating our experiences with grief. We open with Mary and her anger at Jesus, because she knew that he could have done something, and he didn’t (John 11: 32). So many of us have had this experience, of praying and hoping only for our loved one to get better and they still die. So, of course Mary is angry with Jesus; she knew what he could do, and she trusted him, and he didn’t come through in the way that she wanted and needed! Then, we get Jesus weeping as the reality of the situation hits home for him to (John 11: 35). And we get the confusion of the crowd and of Martha, as she looks at him and reminds him that Lazarus has been dead for 4 days… you’re a little late, Jesus and he’s going to smell (John 11: 36-39). Ugh, I just love this reading so much because it gives us permission to feel however we need to feel when we are in the midst of grief. Even the people in this story, including the sisters, are not having the same experience of their grief because they are different people, and they process differently! Even within the same day, our experience with grief can change. That’s the thing about grief! Even though we want to try to rationalize it and quantify it, grief isn’t linear. And it never really even disappears, it can just sometimes lessen over time.
And, I want to hate that about grief. It is frustrating, and painful, and often shows up when we least expect it and least want it. I cannot even begin to describe how times I’ve cried in the last fifteen years when I’ve hit all these big milestones in my life, and the people I most want there aren’t able to be physically there anymore. From graduations to planning my wedding, there are so many loved ones that I wish could be sitting in the seats on that day. It makes me want to scream and cry and rant about how none of this is fair. To be honest, I do those things a fair bit too. And, as I think about all those times, I wish they could still be with me, I also can’t help but give thanks for grief too because it is this tangible sign that we have loved and been loved in return. If the option is to lose that to save myself from grief, well, then, I think I’m going to have to pick the grief.
The reality though is that even with these Scripture readings and liturgy responses about the destruction of death through Christ’s death and resurrection, it says nothing about the destruction of grief. It’s why verse 35, “Jesus began to weep” is one of my favorite verses in Scripture. Not just because it is short, but because it shows that through Christ, God intimately knows the pain of grief. Jesus was close to Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. By waiting these four days to show what he can do, Jesus is hit with grief over Lazarus’ death, even knowing that he is about to raise his from the tomb. But, unlike Jesus’ resurrection, Lazarus is going to die again someday. And, I think that Jesus recognizes that in this moment too. That no matter what he is about to do, this miracle of resurrecting Lazarus, he can do nothing to protect this crowd and Mary and Martha from the pain of grief when Lazarus eventually dies again. That includes protecting himself from the grief too; Jesus wasn’t immune to feelings just because he was the Son of God.
What is so powerful to me about Jesus’ weeping is that it helps us to see the way that God sits with us in our grief too. And, when we get all of these other experiences of grief within the story, I think it helps to show that God is big enough to handle the full spectrum of human emotion. So, whether you need to yell and be angry with God or you need to weep and trust that Jesus is sitting in that weeping with you, may you hear that no matter how you grieve, it is valid. There is no perfect or right way to grieve, except the way that we need to most in that moment. And, may we know that when we grieve, we do not do so alone, but instead we are surrounded by both God and a whole community of people who also know what it means to feel grief. Because death is a guarantee in life, which means that grief is a guarantee also.
So, as we gather on this All Saints Day, may we collectively sit together in our grief and truly sit with it. We aren’t trying to move through it or make it better, but we can allow ourselves this moment to feel the way we need to feel without shame or judgment. Because, honestly, there aren’t many times, even in the church, when we are able to do that. But, we all have our experiences with grief and loss, and I don’t want to do us the disservice of dismissing that. May we remember those in our lives and in this community who have died, who quite frankly we aren’t the same without, and honor the fact that we had the privilege of knowing and loving them here on earth, whether it was only for a short time or for many decades. That is what All Saints is about. Yes, there is promise of God wiping away every tear and destroying death, but there is also the promise that we get to show up as our true selves, with all our emotions, and none of that can separate us from the love of God. God will be with us in our weeping, our laughter, our anger, and our pain. This is the promise I want you to remember this day.
But this is also the promise that I want you to remember for the rest of your days. Grief isn’t something that we have to neatly box up and put away on the shelf only to take it out on All Saints Day. Grief isn’t something that we have to apologize for feeling even when it seems like no one understands because I can guarantee you that so many more people understand it than you can even imagine. Grief will try to break us, and sometimes we even let it do so in order to be reformed into something new. Even with the promise of grief, may we go out into the world with our hearts tender willing to take the risk of loving the world that God created, as painful as that might be some days. And, may you remember that when grief tries to single you out and make you feel like you are the only person who could have ever felt this way in history, that there are others going through that too. When grief tries to isolate us, may we always remember that we share the load, that we do not have to carry the full weight of our grief alone. This promise is something that I am so passionate about because my grandpa once told me that I could never be a pastor because I cried to much at my Beloved uncle’s funeral. I remember how he tried to shame me for my grief because pastors shouldn’t feel that when we have all of these other promises from God. This has stuck with me for over eight years, as I have made it my mission to walk with people in grief, which often means that I feel it too. So, if you ever want to apologize for your tears or someone tries to shame you for them, remember that Jesus wept too.