Lord… if only… if only: When Jesus Meets Us In Our Grief with Rev. Jacky Gatliff

Good morning. My name is Jacky Gatliff, and I am grateful to be with you here today. For more than ten years, Ward Church was the Gatliff family church home, as my husband Mike served as an associate pastor. Those were such important years for our two children who are now definitely adults with their own families. And it wasn't solely the church that was important with everything that it had to offer, as you all well know.

It was the group of other families and adults who were attentive and cared for them in important ways for which we will always be grateful, and so will they. In recent months, the leadership of Ward Church recognized that there was something important that God was doing in this church as you witnessed and heard from pastor Scott each Sunday. Ever the shepherd pastor, Scott was visually and verbally showing you how it is possible for a Christ follower to approach the end of his life. You could not see it, but Scott had two arms out. One, defiantly saying, oh death, where is thy sting?

And all that that meant. And the other, with his hand open, reaching out with confidence of what was ahead for him, to be welcomed into the presence of God with all great joy that just as you and I will be in our own time. I was invited to come and do pre grief work, if you will, to prepare the staff, the elders, deacons, and other lay leaders for what the anticipated experience of grief would mean for you, the congregation, as well as for themselves individually. Grief care ministry has been an important part of what I've been doing for the last twenty five years. One of the things that I am intent on in this work is to encourage Christians and to guide them to grieve fully and well.

To not try to take shortcuts by using cutesy phrases, having false expectations as to what grief should look like, and then slapping bible verses, usually out of context, onto their grief, thinking that it will fix it, so they can put it in a box, and put it over here out of sight, and make it all better once and for all. Some of you know what I'm talking about with those things. I was here for three very full days of meetings with leaders and staff in late January to guide them in what grief looks like and where God is in all of it. When I woke up the morning after those days were finished, I did what many of you would have done. I was asking myself whether the time had been helpful in any way.

Had really the grief care that I was hoping to have happened, did it happen? And then I noticed on my phone that I had a text, and it was from pastor Scott. And this is what it said. So this is Scott McKee. I'm sorry I missed seeing you this week.

Thank you so much for serving our leadership so well. Sounds to me like your teaching and coaching was exactly what we needed. My response. Thank you, Scott. It was a special time for me to be with people who have been important to the Gatliffs.

You and Angie and your kids are much loved. Scott's reply: You and Mike are remembered fondly at Ward. I hope you will always feel a sense of home here. It is indeed a gift to come home and to be with you during these days. This morning, we're about to take a look at a familiar story of Jesus that shows us the real and important ways that God invites us to be with him in our grief.

Yes, you heard this passage last week at at Easter, and it was beautifully preached by pastor Terence. But let me assure you that God's word is alive and active, and whatever we need to be hearing today, you'll be hearing a whole different thing that God is doing, you know, as he reveals his truth to us. No doubt, there are some of you who are saying, enough already. Can we just move on from all this talk of grief? So let me say this.

Let me strongly suggest that you don't want to just move on. Ward Church is not the same church that it has been because it has witnessed and experienced something transforming in the death of your beloved pastor. You can't go back to the same old same old, not as individuals and not as a church body. You want to slow down, take a deep breath, probably take several more deep breaths, and say, okay, our presence at Six Mile and Hagerty remains strong. But more church, we are different now, and we need to see who we are together as a church who has faced hard grief.

You are not just the church whose senior pastor died. You are the church who wants to both experience and bear witness to this community and beyond all that has meant for you. And it is so important to say that while much focus in the last days and weeks and months has been on Scott, I know that at the same time, there are those here right now who have had their own experience of the death of a loved one, or who have known up close and personal the suffering and grief of another. So, I encourage you to listen for one, maybe two or three things that will be walkable for you as you leave this sanctuary and continue to experience the grief you may know today, but that you will certainly have another point in your life. Let's pray together.

Lord Jesus, here we are before you resting in your presence even as we worship you this day. We want to hear your tender and caring voice that calls us to know you in ways we had never known was possible. Speak Lord, we are listening. In the name of Jesus, we pray. Amen.

So then, as Christ followers, where do we even begin? To know how to grieve well. It actually begins with seeing that throughout the revelation of God, from Genesis to the Psalms, from Job to Ecclesiastes, from Jeremiah to Habakkuk, from Matthew to John, even through to the revelation, that God is intent. He's so intent on personally interacting and guiding those who face what feels like relentless sorrow and grief. Some have argued that the Bible is about suffering and grief as much as it is about anything.

And across the overarching biblical revelation, the central figure you already know is Jesus Christ, the man of sorrows who was acquainted with grief. In the scripture reading, the gospel writer John invites us to be attentive to who Jesus was to those who were grieving so that we might find who he is for us in our own. The story of Martha and Mary, the death of Lazarus, is one that we are almost too familiar with. We know the final line of the story when Jesus stands outside the tomb and calls Lazarus to come out. But we usually miss what has taken place with these two sisters and Jesus before that moment.

Let me even remind you further to what happened with it even before that day. When last we saw Martha and Mary, one was being invited by Jesus to stop fretting and focus solely on what was truly helpful but not completely necessary, while the other was praised for sitting and putting every everything aside to sit at Jesus' feet to absorb everything he had to say. And now these sisters, here they are in this incredible moment of heartbreak. We would be remiss if we didn't know this, that something has happened with Martha between that time and this moment when she goes out to meet Jesus when he arrives. Martha has been waiting, and she's looking down the road to see Jesus when he comes.

Use your imagination, if you will, as to what that would that scene would have looked like. When once she sees him, do you think that she just stood there waiting for him to come to her? No. She surely would have rushed out to meet him as she had a few things she was bursting to say. All her questions, her disappointments, her hurt, her anger, her frustrations, all her fears, they all rush in her as she approaches Jesus with her grief and pain.

Just imagine the tone of her voice. It was probably loud and even forceful. What did her face look like? She didn't look like herself because in deep grief, you don't look like yourself. Were there tears?

Surely. Some of you here don't have to imagine what that looked like because you remember it. And Jesus had let her down in an unspeakable way. Lord, where were you? If only, if only, if only, if my faith and your faith is to have any meaning at all, then we need and we want to embrace the truth that Jesus does not just float above the chaos of our grief, nor does he live among us as an invincible superhero who keeps us safe from suffering and pain as much as we wish that he would.

Our faith goes to new places when I find that Jesus knows my pain, he knows my suffering, and he knows my grief intimately, and that changes everything. And Jesus responds to her with words that don't immediately appear to connect with what she is saying. Martha, your brother will rise again. And Martha says what she knows in her head, yes, he will rise when everyone else rises in the last day. And then Jesus speaks the truth that will soon be understood by Martha in hindsight.

Martha, I am the resurrection and the life. Anyone who believes in me will live even though he dies, and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this? Yes, Lord, Martha said. I have always believed you are the Messiah, the son of God, the one who has come into the world from God.

You see, we may know with our head, but we believe with our heart. And Jesus is really asking her a heart question. And that's what Jesus does with us as we grieve. He invites us to draw close with all of who we are. We may wonder about Martha's tone in that moment, but I am also convinced of the kind and tender way, even while being direct, that Jesus spoke with Martha.

What does Martha do next? In an incredibly kind and gentle moment, Martha goes to her sister Mary, who is literally sitting in the darkness of her grief. That in itself should be curious to you. Remember when we last saw Mary, she was sitting at the feet of Jesus soaking in every word. And here is something that is so important to know and understand.

A vibrant life of faith is no guarantee that the crisis and heartache of loss and grief will not disrupt our faith no matter how mature our faith has been. When we grieve, our perspectives may easily become distorted, and a sense of God's presence with us might come only from a place of memory. The windows of their home where Mary was would have been covered, and it would have been very loud with the wailing of the professional grievers that were an important part of the expression of grief in their culture. Mary, the teacher is here, and he's asking for you. And Mary takes off running to get to Jesus because quite honestly, where else would she go, where else will we go in her heartache and grief?

Martha had provided her a life giving reminder. An identical exchange takes place. Lord, if only, if only, if only. Do you remember when you had that feeling and expressed those same words either verbally or silently? Such are honest questions, honest thoughts for anyone who has ever looked to Jesus in faith.

You see, it's one thing to say we believe in Jesus. It's another thing to experience belief in Jesus. Believing Jesus means that we can say that he is good and he can be trusted. But experiencing belief in Jesus means that in our darkest moments, in our greatest fears, in times of confusion and even pain, we find in real ways that he is good and that he can be trusted. Let me just step briefly into a grief care role with thoughts about what you can do to care well for another in grief.

I will ask those who are in the middle of their grief, what has been the most unhelpful thing that anyone has said to you? Actually, I kind of ask, what is the most ridiculous thing anybody has said to you? And a question like that gets a quick and very energetic response. So let me give you a few ideas that I have been repeatedly told by those who are grieving about what not to say or do. Now, before I say some of those things, I really want you to not feel badly because you certainly have said at least one of them.

I know I have. But now you will know. So here it goes. Number one, he or she is in a better place. Yes.

Yes. But they aren't right here, and that's where I am. And along the same line, heaven must have needed another angel. Well, that's not possible because we don't become angels when we die. I'm here for you.

Let me know if I can do anything for you. You need to remember this. People in grief usually don't know what they need or when they will need it. So offer something concrete. Make specific suggestions.

I will come by on Thursday afternoon at 2PM, and we can either just sit outside or go for a walk or maybe go to the new coffee shop. How does that sound for you? Oh, you'd rather not? That's okay. Don't take the momentary rejection personally.

Just try again at some other point. Three. How are you doing? That seems harmless, doesn't it? We ask that all the time of each other, even though we know it really is a generic and meaningless question in so many ways.

Narrow it down. How are you doing this morning? How are you doing this afternoon? How's that going for you? How old was your mother or father?

It does not matter how old anyone is, it's the relationship they are grieving. Here's one. I know just how you feel. No, you don't. You may recognize certain aspects of their grief, but it's their grief and it's not yours.

This one's gonna be hard. I am sorry for your loss. What does that even mean? We all say it. That's what we put on social media when we hear something.

But be honest, doesn't it kinda sound empty to you even after you say it or type it? So, what do we say? I have no words. That's what we say. I have no words.

But do whatever you can after you say that to make it personal. I know you will miss her presence. I know you will miss his laugh. I know you will miss how she cared for you and her family. And if you want to know how they care for each other in grief, you can begin by actively listening to stories over and over and over.

People in grief need to talk about the person or what happened around the death on repeat. Listen fully and completely, and see if there are stories that you have of the person that perhaps they do not know. But before you offer your own story, make sure you listen to them completely first. This one sounds like a no brainer. Mention the name of the person who died.

That seems obvious, doesn't it? But we avoid it over and over. One of the greatest fears held by those who are grieving is that the person will be forgotten. We hesitate to say the name. Why?

We don't want to make them cry. But we miss the connection when we neglect something as simple as saying their name. And the last one I'll offer you this morning is to express no judgment to anyone else as to how you may think someone is doing in their grief. It is their grief on their time. There can never be a pressure or a competition as to how we may think someone is experiencing their grief.

You surely have gotten an idea, one or two, from that. Caring for those who are grieving, it's really not complicated, but it is always going to be tender and uncomfortable. But don't let your moment of being unsure in what to say or do keep you from connecting and caring. Now back to Jesus. Myra has brought her great grief to Jesus, and when he sees her weeping, you know that two things happen.

A deep anger wells up in Jesus, and we're told that he weeps. Jesus is not just being teary. He is boldly weeping at what death has done, not just to Lazarus, but to those who love him. Did you hear the response to Jesus from those who had gathered at the tomb? Some said Jesus cared deeply.

See how he loved him. But others questioned as to why Jesus didn't keep Lazarus from dying. What are they really asking? It's the very same thing that you and I want to ask. Jesus, are you really who you say you are?

What does it mean that you are the resurrection and the life? Jesus, I'm just confused. Who are you really? I then listen closely again to the words of Jesus. Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?

How is it even remotely possible that the glory of God will be seen in the death of the one that I love? That right there that right there is where the possibility of new hope cracks the door open. John recounts a scene for us that takes us beyond the immediate. When Jesus tells Lazarus to come out from the grave, he is telling us what it means that he is indeed the resurrection and the life. Jesus is the only one that brings life to those who are dead.

Jesus is the only one who sets those who are dead free from the bindings of death so they may step into new life. But is there hope to be found in that for you and me as we grieve? You see, Lazarus was wrapped in the bindings of his death. But when we are grieving, you and I find ourselves wrapped in the bindings of our grief. When Jesus says to those gathered at the tomb, unwrap him and let him go, just as Lazarus needed to have others unwind him, you and I, we need others to unwrap the bindings of our own grief.

That's what our people are for. Our family, our friends, our church, others who know the same experience of grief. Your experience of grief is your very own, but in it, you need to bring in others to help you remove the grief bindings in your own time. And let me also tell you that some days, and you all know this, that some days the bindings will feel as though they are tightening up. In other days, you will find that you are breathing more easily.

And here's the important thing to remember. Not all the bindings will be completely removed. There will always be a peace that will remain reminding you that Jesus continues to be present and is still with you in what is painful and times still feels unbearable. Whatever your circumstances and whatever your grief, the most important thing you can do is to lean in to see if the hope that Jesus offered to Martha and Mary that day is the same new hope he offers to you. I know it is.

I have seen the hope of Jesus transform a grieving person right before my eyes, not just once, but dozens and dozens and dozens of times. I am confident, even now more so, in our God who becomes real to us in the pit of our experience of grief in ways we never have known before and could never even imagine as he leans towards us, chasing us when he needs to so that he might draw us more closely and intimately to himself. But I can't just tell you that. You need to know and experience it for yourself. So continue to ask your hard, your painful questions of the one who will bear it with you.

Seek others who can validate and help you understand your grief and who will help you listen for the voice of Jesus. Earlier, you heard about an opportunity you have to connect with others who are experiencing the grief, either from the death of pastor Scott or from the death of someone in their life, no matter how long ago it was. Through the time that will be offered here next Saturday, April 18, A Guide Through Grief will be led by Rick Gatliffsen, who will continue to offer an understanding of how grief works, along with practical tools to guide you in your experience of grief. If you want to know more about that time, you can connect with Rick, who will be right out that door at the connection center. Just going out the door and turn right.

You don't have to decide today, but it will be helpful if you register so that you can be hosted well. But you can also wake up next Saturday morning and say, no, yes, that's where I need to be today. So we finish with the words and promise from the psalmist. You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing. You have taken away my clothes of mourning and clothed me with joy that I might sing praises to you and not be silent.

O Lord my God, I will give you thanks forever. Morning turned into dancing. Not just dancing, but joyful dancing. Clothes of mourning to clothes of joy? Can you even imagine that?

Does it even sound possible? It may even sound trite, depending on what you are experiencing today. Others may be thinking, those words help to explain what Jesus is continuing to do in me as I grieve. But our God has never and will never make a promise or offer hope that will not be realized. That's who he is.

Turning our mourning into dancing is not something we do for ourselves. It is the very thing that our good God does for us and for his glory. Are you ready to allow and invite Jesus to come to you in your hard grief? Any hesitancy or reluctance you may have today does not change the certainty of the promise that has no end date. You've already seen and even experienced a taste of joy that could not be taken from pastor Scott.

Can we agree that Scott's parting gift to this congregation was that at his service, you witnessed and experienced a rich embodied glimpse of the glory and joy that he has now stepped into. Friends, that hope and that promise, it is firm and secure and it will eternally remain an anchor for our souls. Thanks be to God.