Elizabeth Reardon ponders how Jesus' humanity allowed Him to undergo the very same emotions we do in times of loss.
And Jesus wept. (John 11:35)
The shortest verse in the entire Bible and yet so full: saturated with emotion and meaning. Weighted by the sheer fact that the Lord of all, in His humanity, experienced what it is for those who loved Lazarus to mourn the loss of a dear friend. How would He console Martha, who boldly expressed that things would have been different should He have arrived earlier? For, while we know the miracle to follow with the raising of Lazarus, we can so often overlook this verse and its significance. In doing so would be to forget that there isn’t anything that we could ever undergo in this life that God has not experienced or does not understand.
God understands our grief
And still, sometimes we set unrealistic expectations for ourselves and others, defining what it is to mourn and even the timeline that we feel is appropriate. While the only certainty is that it will take as long as necessary. Each loss itself is unique, both in terms of who died and who is left behind as well as the conditions surrounding the way that our loved one lived and died. With so many variables, how could we ever prepare ourselves to lose someone we love or eventually for our own death?
For the world in its present form is passing away. (1 Corinthians 7:31b)
We know that our world and everything in it changes every day, and yet we often cling to our known comforts, circumstances, and those around us as if that were not the case. Saint Paul in this passage isn’t discouraging us to love, but to do so understanding that life, and all within it, is a gift. In this way, we are invited to appreciate these gifts loosely, as if placed in our hands to love and gently hold for the time allotted.
And in so many ways, this kind of love is a magnification of the love we might have thought we otherwise possessed. For then, we are beckoned not to take for granted beyond what is provided in a day and look to love the most we can in that span of time.
Preparing to say goodbye to a longtime friend
The last few months, God has been preparing me to say goodbye to such a gift: a priest, friend and mentor who has served as my own spiritual director for more than 10 years. The first spiritual nudge came in prayer one day, when there was no other indication that he was ill. An extremely active retired priest, despite his age, I had all but pushed aside that his death would be anytime soon. Yet God, knowing that an aggressive form of cancer would soon be discovered, also knew the need to pray and to spiritually prepare and hope.
When I spoke with Father Jim, after this first hospital stay, to let him know that I was praying, he replied, “Well, looks like the Holy Spirit once again knew what He was doing, and already put you to work!”
And thus, I have, set to the task of praying, of holding lightly and trusting that God will lead us both through the journey ahead.
Forgetting what lies behind but straining forward to what lies ahead, I continue my pursuit toward the goal, the prize of God’s upward calling, in Christ Jesus. (Phillipians 3:13b-14)
Therein lies my hope. Here is the distinction for us as people of faith. We know that our lives will come to an end but that is not to be our final end. Christian hope is not transitory or fleeting, but eternal, resting in our life in Christ Jesus. This hope and the task of learning to love as Christ did is our life’s work. Today, while my heart hurts with Father Jim’s passing, I know that it does so because it has learned to love from the One who loved us first.
Therefore, we are not discouraged. … For this momentary light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to what is seen but to what is unseen; for what is seen is transitory, but what is unseen is eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:16a, 17-18)
[Editor's note: Father Jim passed away on July 10. Please pray with us for the repose of his soul: Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and may perpetual light shine upon him. May he rest in peace, and may the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.]
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Copyright 2024 Elizabeth Reardon
Images: (top, bottom) James Tissot, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons; (center) copyright 2024 Elizabeth Reardon, all rights reserved.
About the Author
Elizabeth Reardon
Elizabeth Reardon is Director of Parish Ministries and Pastoral Associate for the Collaborative Parishes of Resurrection & St. Paul in Hingham, Massachusetts; a wife and mother of three; certified spiritual director; and writer at TheologyIsAVerb.com. Her writing is an invitation to seek and create space for God in the midst of the busyness of everyday life.
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