Monday, April 4, 2016

Encouragement for the Hard Times

Well, this is a day and a date that always take me back.  It was Easter Sunday (April 3, 1983), my first Easter after ordination; but I was not with my congregation that day.   Before the dawn on the Easter morning thirty-three years ago, my dad died.  It was a long journey from the diagnosis of cancer to the ending--many hard months of change and decline.  Finally, like some cruel twist to the sacred story, death came on Easter Sunday.  There might have been comfort in that--dying in in the hope of resurrection--but such comfort only came much later.  Easter in 1983 was a hard time.

I remember how in John's Gospel, Mary Magdalene went to the tomb before the dawn and discovered the tomb was open.  She met Jesus was alive again--raised from death to life.  In 1983, we gathered in a dim hospital room before the dawn and discovered that death still came even in the season of resurrection and new life.  It was not fair.  I felt cheated, angry, and sad on that Easter morning.  I missed my dad.  I missed my congregation.  It was a very hard thing to experience.  There was disappointment and disruption.  This ending was exceedingly hard.

Endings are not easy--even when they come with blessings attached.  It takes a while before "blessing" applies to such a loss.  It should not be pronounced too quickly by those who seek to bring comfort and consolation.  Sometimes beginnings are hard to bear, too.  Starting over after one's world changes abruptly is not easy.  Taking steps by faith into an uncertain future may be more than we can do--at least for a time.  It takes a certain kind of courage to face into a new beginning--meeting, greeting, and befriending strangers.  Mary and the disciples before us had to find courage to face new beginnings.  The presence of the Risen Christ brought its own pain and its own fear.  It took a while for the reality of resurrection to soak into one's soul.  It takes a while for the reality of the resurrection to transform broken hearts and a broken world.  It still does.

Recently, I discovered a song by Carrie Newcomer.  In You Can Do This Hard ThingNewcomer sings words of encouragement--a pupil learning to do addition for the first time, friends parting so one can go on a journey, a late-night call in the midst of some crisis:  "You do this hard thing."  I think of the hard things that seemed impossible at some earlier seasons in my life.  I find encouragement in knowing that I finally did learn to tie my shoes, ride a bicycle, swim and face into harder challenges and disappointments.  I have discovered the encouragement of the gospel as the waves of grief have subsided.  I have picked up the broken pieces.  I have started over many times.

Endings will continue to come.  Beginnings will summon us to a new and uncertain futures.  Neither is easy.  But in the song I hear the proclamation of the gospel: "You Can Do This Hard Thing."  I know it is true.  Jesus--crucified and risen--is always near--even to the close of the age.  We are accompanied.  We are not alone.  We are never alone.  Thanks be to God.  Alleluia!  Amen.