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Sermon by Marjorie Brown on 2nd November 2009
Bereavement hurts. When we are no longer able to see or touch or speak to a person that we love because we have been parted from them by death, we suffer. It would be false and silly to pretend that this doesn’t matter, because it does.
There is no human life that is not touched at some point by the loss of a loved one. All of us here know that is true. Some may be experiencing a recent, aching void. Others here today will be dealing with an older or gentler loss: the death perhaps of someone at a great age, or after a long illness, or a bereavement from many years ago. You will know that people don’t get over grief as if it were a temporary illness. No matter how long it was expected and prepared for, that loss will always be a part of your life.
Today we gather to speak about a subject that is often hidden, at least in 21st century Western society. We are a culture based on material success, and death feels like a failure. Something couldn’t be fixed. There wasn’t a happy ending. And so we prefer not to think about it.
In other cultures and in other times, this has not been so. Whole communities have found it natural to share the pain of the bereaved. People have not been afraid to talk about death, knowing that it is a universal experience. They have seen it as a meaningful part of the human story.
Some people believe that the story of the whole human race is what continues, and that the memories we hold in our hearts of our loved ones are the way that the story goes on. But religious believers want to say more than this.
Whether Jewish, Christian or Muslim, believers in the one God who made and loves the world have always had a firm conviction that our own personal stories do not end with our death on earth. This life is a very important part of our story, but it is only the opening chapter. In our life on earth from birth to death, we are a work in progress, and the fulfilment is yet to come.
Jesus says in the gospel of John, ‘And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life; and I will raise them up on the last day.’
When we speak of God’s will, remember, we are not speaking of a preference for one outcome rather than another. We are speaking of God’s settled purpose for creation, indeed of God’s purpose in creating in the first place. The reason we are here is that God made us to reflect his glory and to live with him forever, knowing God face to face. If God’s will is that nothing should be lost, what could prevail against that purpose?
God is at work to bring his purposes to fulfilment. His goal for us is not just a few years, however blessed and fortunate, of life on earth. God’s purpose is for a renewed creation where nothing good is lost or forgotten, where all that is broken is mended, where sins are forgiven and those we see no longer are restored to us.
Christians believe that the death and resurrection of Jesus guarantee that this is true. Like a grain of wheat, Jesus died, but he is the first-fruits of the new creation. He gives us a glimpse of what is in store for all of us. And it is not a ghostly or purely spiritual existence. It is a glorified human life.
You will remember that the risen Jesus met his friends on Easter Day. He broke bread with them, shared his peace with them, breathed on them and blessed them. They knew him, though not without some struggle and disbelief, and he knew them. He mended broken relationships and gave them fresh courage to proclaim the good news that we have just sung about. He forgave those who betrayed, abandoned and killed him. He showed that evil and death do not have the last word in God’s plan.
What was true for Jesus will be true for us. That is the heart of the Christian faith. We too will share his risen life and be brought to the fulfilment that was God’s purpose from the moment of our birth.
When we believe this, our human lives can be seen in the context of a much bigger picture. It changes not one jot of the pain of parting. The ache of loss is real. And yet we can see a further horizon, a longer perspective.
Like most priests, I have spent many hours beside deathbeds and been present often at the moment of death. These experiences have helped me to be sure that we pass into safe hands. Those who are left will grieve and feel pain, but those who depart are in God’s loving care. Again and again I have felt a sense of peace and safety descend at a deathbed as someone who has accepted the process is able to let go willingly.
Not every death is peaceful or painless, of course. Some are sudden and terrible, cutting off an earthly life that is full of unfinished business. But if God has a loving purpose for creation, that purpose is also personal. Each of us is part of the greater story. Each of us will have a place in that renewed and glorious creation. Jesus said just before his own cruel and untimely death, “Where I am, there will my servant be also.”
Where is Jesus now? Christians believe that he is in the heart of God, and that is our destination too. God’s glory and love surround us from birth to death, but we often fail to recognise that. In our mother’s womb, in our birth, in our brief earthly life, on our deathbed, we are in the loving and glorious presence of God, and when we have been born into eternal life, we will at last see God face to face. |