I had the privilege of bringing the Easter sermon to a church we are close to last Sunday. Early in Holy Week I received news that a family in the community had lost a son. He had taken his own life. I struggled with how I should present the Easter sermon. I didn’t think it was the time for some triumphalistic rah-rah that didn’t respect the deep pain the family and their friends must be going through.
I started the sermon by sharing a few experiences of deep loss in my life. I don’t flaunt such stories but if it helps to build a bridge with people, I share them. It still takes something out of me and I still feel a bit tired when I share such stories from my past.
Then I tried to make a case for the resurrection from Mary Magdalene’s experience in John 20. I emphasised that no one expected Jesus to come back from the dead. They had become convinced of the resurrection even though they didn’t expect it. Jesus’s tomb was empty, and people had testified to having met the risen Christ and having their lives transformed as a consequence. Therefore, we have every reason to believe in the resurrection and the hope of life after death that comes with it.
I closed with a few thoughts about grief: that grief is the pain we experience when we lose someone we love and this is true of all of us, Christian or not. It is so wrong to try to rob people of their grief — to say, for example, that one shouldn’t grieve because one’s loved one is with the Lord. The person may be with the Lord but he or she is no longer with me. I miss this person terribly. Paul does not tell us not to grieve. He only says that we shouldn’t grieve without hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14).
By some divine appointment, after the service I met the father of the boy who had died. We exchanged a few words. He thanked me for the sermon and the fact that we can grieve but that we grieve in hope. I could barely speak. What words would be adequate? He also said that he and his family were receiving a lot of support from the church. I was glad.
This side of heaven, there will be painful losses and there will be grief. No shortcuts there. But we can gently point people to the hope of Easter. And we can walk with them.