When, on Christmas Eve, I first heard about Janet’s untimely, sudden and tragic death, like all of us here I’m sure, I was shocked and shaken. Though I don’t think I ever met her personally, Janet had been in contact with the church just the week before asking us to do a registry search and issue a duplicate certificate. I signed the documents.
It seemed almost eerie that her life was ended so abruptly and so soon after that otherwise unremarkable contact over some routine paperwork. It adds to the sense of it all feeling unreal.
We are probably all in the stage of grief where we haven’t yet fully taken it all in. We feel numb. We can’t quite believe it has actually happened. What if it’s a bad dream and we’ll wake up? Maybe we can just press the “undo” key on the computer and get back to where we were before? We know it is real and that we can’t undo it – but we find ourselves thinking such things.
When I first learned that I would be taking this funeral I wondered which Bible reading I should choose to speak on.
The Bible contains a song book that we call the Book of Psalms; it’s a collection of 150 songs; songs of happiness, songs of longing, songs that narrate a story, songs about love and songs of grief - what we call laments.
There are dozens of lament Psalms written not just funerals, but also about suffering a great injustice, or a battle with deep personal depression and other sorrows too.
And all the laments in the Psalms take a familiar form. There is a description of what has gone wrong. There are lines expressing the raw feelings of those bearing the grief. There are searching questions; “Lord, why? Lord, how long will this go on?” And finally, there is a change of mood when the Psalm writer says: “And yet, despite everything, I will trust in God because he is faithful.”
I said they all follow this same pattern; in fact, all but one. Instead of finishing on the usual upbeat note, Psalm 88 just leaves the questions unanswered and ends abruptly with no glimmer of light.
I’ve sometimes wondered why this is. Did the Psalmist have no faith? Is there some kind of mistake? Was the Psalm unfinished?
Let me read a few selected lines of the Psalm to you…
I am overwhelmed with troubles...
I am like one without strength...
I am… like… those whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care.
You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.
You have taken from me my closest friends…
I call to you, Lord, every day.
Do you show your wonders to the dead?
Do their spirits rise up and praise you?
Is your love declared in the grave?
Are your wonders known in the place of darkness?
Why, Lord, do you… hide your face from me?
All day long [your terrors] surround me like a flood; they have completely engulfed me.
You have taken from me friend and neighbour - darkness is my closest friend.
It’s not exactly light reading, but it articulates what people actually think when they’re not having to be polite and how people actually feel when they aren’t putting on a brave face - at times like these.
There are eight questions for God in Psalm 88 - but no answer from him recorded. There are several instances of finger pointing addressed to God; “You have taken my closest friend from me.” But not once does God explain himself in the Psalm.
We find ourselves here today asking “Why?” Why Janet? Why so young? Why did she make that particular journey? Why didn’t she fill up with fuel? (If indeed she did run out, we’re not sure). Why so near to Christmas?
We find ourselves probing God and doubting his goodness. “You took my closest friend, my daughter, my wife, my mother, from me.”
And at this moment in time there are no satisfactory answers to the questions we ask. At this moment in time there is no definitive reply for our complaints either.
I carry with me in my Bible a bookmark. It was a gift from a couple who have suffered much and whose strong faith is an inspiration to me. It’s a beautifully weaved design with birds, flowers, leaves and ornate patterns. The name of the country where it was made from is embroidered at the top.
But on the back it’s an abstract mess of coloured threads, with untidy loose ends. It is impossible to tell looking at the back what beauty and clarity is on the other side.
Perhaps this reverse side is life as we observe it from our perspective; a seemingly arbitrary mess of tangled threads. And perhaps this tapestry is life as God sees it from his perspective; everything makes sense.
In fact, the Bible says this is so in 1 Corinthians 13.12:
Now we see things imperfectly as in a cloudy mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All that I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God now knows me completely.
I don’t think there is a mistake about Psalm 88; God knows there is a time when, for us, nothing adds up or makes sense.
We are like Thomas in our Gospel reading. "Do not let your hearts be troubled" says Jesus. Why? Because he knew that Thomas’ heart was troubled.
“Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?” says Thomas. He is confused, bewildered, perplexed… He is trying to think about life and death and how he never seems to understand spiritual things.
“How can we know the way?” he asks.
We maybe expect Jesus to reply, “This is the way” and give an explanation of how to get to heaven.
But he doesn’t. He says “I am the way...”
May we all, in our confusion, our anger, our shock and our sorrow find the path of peace in him; the Way, the Truth and the Life.
Sermon preached at Saint Mary's Long Newton 10th January 2012.
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