"And God Will Wipe Away All Tears"

Revelation 7:9-17

Last year, we experienced a number of deaths in this congregation. I suspect that this year we will also experience some. We also experienced other tragedies: broken homes, broken lives, people who have lost their jobs, people dealing with debilitating or life-threatening diseases - the list goes on and on. That appears to be the nature of life, and the brick walls of the church cannot alter that fact. When it happens, we feel alone, numb and empty - the sting of what Luther called, "sin, death and the devil" will not be removed this side of eternity.

You may know from personal experience.

Sometimes it comes to us in another way - not the grief of losing someone, or something on which we had depended. Sometimes, just growing older, we realize that our dreams will not be realized, we face a diminishing future, we come to realize that we will never be the successful business person we had hoped to be, that our dreams are idle fantasies, our hopes beyond our grasp, our life seems to be running on empty.

In our world, loss is a real and ever-present possibility. When it happens, we can be crushed by grief, it can snuff out our hope, our reason for living. Someone once told me, "You don't know what hope is, until you have lost it." Most of us will face that "Valley of the Shadow of Death" our Psalm talks about sometime in life. Even Jesus did.

We are told of one instance, recorded in the gospels, when Jesus' friend, Lazarus died. Friends called him to come and participate in the funeral. The Bible says that, when Jesus arrived and saw that his friend was dead, he wept, "so that the Jews standing by said, 'See how he loved him.' But others said, 'Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept his friend from dying?'"

We know that experience as well, don't we? Isn't that the first question we always ask: "Why, God?" Isn't it God's fault, after all? How could God allow it to happen? This child, who never had a chance at life? This man or woman, whom we have loved so dearly. This marriage, once so full of love and light?

Our world gives us cheap answers. Things will not be alright. Time does not heal all wounds. This body or this marriage is not merely a faded flower that will bloom again come spring. "Hearts and Flowers" is not enough to assuage our grief. It is not what we need to make us whole again.

The answer to our question is not really, "Why?" but "Who?" Who can understand my grief? Who can stand with me and share my overwhelming burden? Who can give meaning to a life that has lost so much? Who can make sense of it all?

We need a hand to hold on to. We need a heart that can comprehend our heart's brokenness. We need someone who can accept our questions, our hurt, our suffering, and not turn their back on us when we need them most. We need one who is not embarrassed by our sorrow. We need one who will listen and not judge, who can be with us, and bear some of the pain for us.

Without such a one we quickly lose hope, we become faithless and bitter. As we are faced with these overwhelming questions, we might easily conclude that there is no meaning to life at all, no one to walk with us, no one who can truly understand, no one who can bear our burden and our questions. We can easily become despondent and despair.

As John speaks to a church which has faced and will continue to face unspeakable losses, he lifts up the One who is the answer to our needs.  He is not fortune-telling.  He is proclaiming the Gospel.  He says, "There is one who shares our grief, even when we are not aware of his presence. There is One whose promise has been, and will continue to be, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you,' and is good for his promise. There is One who assures us, 'Come to me, for I am meek and lowly of heart; in me you can find rest.'" Jesus knew suffering. He knows our grief and forsakenness.  It is the sacrificed lamb of God who reigns.  He suffered for us. He suffers with us. In baptism, he has melded his life to ours. Our grief is his own.

Beyond that, however, he not only suffered and died, but was raised so that, even in our feelings of despair, we might also experience hope. His resurrection signals victory over death - all kinds of death. In him, death is never the end, but simply the beginning of a new kind of life.

John writes to this church undergoing persecution, and to us who face "sin, death and the devil," that we might have hope, that we might have faith in God's promises.

Henri Nouwen used to compare our lives to a cup. In grief, he says, that cup is filled with pain, it is filled with a sense of our aloneness and hopelessness. If not emptied, the cup becomes a cup of festering infection, overflowing into bitterness and despair. By contrast, faith allows the cup to remain empty, as we pour our grief at Jesus' feet, trusting that he can take care of it, that he will remain true to his promises, that nevertheless, his kingdom will come and his will shall be done, and that he will never forsake those whom he loves. The empty cup is one which awaits filling with faith, with hope, with new possibilities for living. The empty cup seeks a new future with God, and trusts that he will fill it with good things. It is not without its questions, not unfaltering, not even unbroken - but it is always empty, pouring out its contents, so that it may receive fresh from the source.

The Epistle lesson and our Gospel lesson today both belong together, because they both talk about an eternal life that does not just come at the end of life - at the end of our suffering and pain - but in the very middle of it all.  To those who have faith, he gives life even in the midst of death.  And to those who die, eternal life in him.

"But now thus says the Lord, he who created you. Fear not, for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord - your God - your Savior."

Isaiah 43:1-3a

Amen.