Grace to you and
peace from God our Father and our Risen Lord and Savior, Jesus the Christ. Amen
The burdens of
this life had weighed heavily upon her, and the veil of death hung heavily over
her.
As she walked
toward the garden tomb that morning, every step was a challenge, as though she
carried on her shoulders and enormous load, which she did.
She could not get
the image of Jesus, hanging from the cross out of her mind. His agonizing pain. The labored breathing. Blood oozing from the welts on his skin, the horrific
reminder of the lashes that ripped at him one by one.
Father, into thy
hands I commend my Spirit!
And then
silence. A deafening silence. His body now hanging limp from the
cross. His head resting upon his breast.
Darkness covered
the land.
And though the
sun would set and rise again, the darkness remained.
Jesus.
Now lifeless
flesh, laid in a tomb, and a bittersweet memory of a love cut short.
Mary had hoped.
Mary, together with
all the disciples had hoped.
Jesus had talked
about the kingdom. He promised they
would see it. That it was very near.
Purple robes had
been draped over him in cruel mockery. A
crown of thorns placed upon his brow.
“This is the King
of the Jews”, the inscription that hung over him.
What went wrong?
How could love,
that love that had so touched Mary, have been so fleeting?
“Jesus. My Jesus.
I cannot let go. My soul
grieves. My heart aches.”
Step by step, she
inched closer to the tomb. Fear and foreboding
overwhelmed her.
And then. And then.
Nothing. Emptiness.
They had taken
him from the tomb.
Where had they
laid him? Where had he gone?
Mary had been
robbed of the love of her life, this Jesus.
Now it seemed, that they had added salt to the wound, not even allowing
her proper grief.
All that she had
hoped for was now gone with Jesus. Even
his body, taken from her.
One word changed
everything.
“Mary!”
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
We hope for many
things.
A child is
conceived. Hope abounds.
One wonders if it
will be a boy or a girl.
What will he or
she do? Who will they become?
But then there is
silence.
Listening for the
heart beat, there is silence.
“Come back next
week, and we’ll try again." Still
silence.
On a rainy day, we
gathered under a tree to bury that unborn child.
My Bible’s pages
still are wrinkled by the drops of water that fell as I read from Psalm 139 that
day.
13 For it was you who formed my inward
parts;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and
wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
15 My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the
earth.
16 Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.
And then Bill,
the dad, gently laid the small box containing the lifeless body of their unborn
child into the earth.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
If there is one
thing above all else that I regret about my years of ministry, it is that I
buried far too many children.
William Clark
Benton born too early to survive. They
took him early, before his lungs were adequately developed, to save the life of
his mother.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
Spencer and
Andrew Petrina.
Two brothers,
both who were born with Spinal Muscular Atrophy. SMA
Slowly from birth
they began the process of dying. About a
year each one lived. And then finally
the muscles simply did not work anymore.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
There was Paul, a
nine year old boy, killed while playing with his brothers in a cemetery. They had been swinging on the rope that hung
from the flag pole when the pole collapsed and crushed Paul’s skull.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
Alison and Jazz,
young girls, about fifteen, sixteen years old.
Alison in
Thompson Falls.
Jazz in Plevna.
Automobile
accidents cut short their lifes.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
And on the list
goes.
I remember Gary,
the young father whom cancer claimed.
He left behind
two wonderful kids, and a beautiful wife.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
In short order, over
the course of the first few years of my ministry, I had buried someone in every
decade of life, from birth till a hundred years old.
One by one.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
What does it mean
to be a Christian?
What is the hope
we claim?
We speak about
things like new life, and living in the Kingdom now.
We hope that the
love of Christ might transform this world.
We pray for
ourselves, our families, for one another, and for the world.
Oh how we pray.
One of my
vocations as a pastor has been to pray.
In worship, in
your homes, in hospital rooms, and in the silence of my own soul, I pray.
That we pray is a
confirmation of our hope.
And yet so often,
the hopes we have for this life fade with the passing of each day.
The final prayer
I offer is this:
“Into your hands, O merciful Savior, we commend
your servant. Acknowledge, we humbly
beseech you, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock, a sinner of
your own redeeming. Receive him/her into
the arms of your mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into
the glorious company of the saints in light.
Amen”
Ministry has been
for me, walking hand in hand with my parishioners through the trials and fears
of this world, to the gates of heaven.
And then, letting go, and saying those words “Into your hands, O
merciful Savior.”
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
Easter.
Flowers.
Bunnies.
Hunting for
eggs. (I truly have never figured out
what that is about. I have no clue what
it has to do with Easter.)
We have brunch. (Can you smell it now?)
Easter is a
celebration of the coming of Spring.
Or not. . .
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
“Mary!”
I’m increasingly
aware that I’ve lived more years already, than I have left to live.
And on numerous
occasions, I’ve faced heath issues that might have claimed my life.
Death looms.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
“Mary!”
That one word,
spoken by the Risen Christ, declared to the universe itself that death was not
the final word on life.
Eventually, death
will call our name, and we will go.
But that is not
the final word.
“Mary!”
Or John. Or Kathryn.
Karl or Rebecca.
Or Spencer, or
Andrew, or Gary, or Alison, or Jazz.
If
for this life only we have hoped in Christ, we are of all people most to be
pitied.
But
in fact Christ has been raised from the dead, the first fruits of those who
have died. For since death came through a human being, the resurrection of the
dead has also come through a human being; for as all die in Adam, so all will
be made alive in Christ. Amen
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