Deaths Sting?
Matthew 5:1-12
When Jesus saw the crowds, he went up the mountain; and after he sat down, his disciples came to him. Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.
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This morning we take time to reflect on this one saying of Jesus, "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." It falls within a more extensive series of blessings and teachings known as The Beatitudes in which Jesus turns conventional wisdom on its head. The words of Jesus that we hear this morning talk about mourning, loss, on a much more expansive level, but as we remember those who have come before on this day, we will take these words as they are. Words that we may find reassuring, but words that still remind of the complexities of life and everything that comes with it.
There is something sacred that occurs in the moments when we sit with the stories of those who have come before us. It could be the stories of those who have recently joined the heavenly ranks, or it could be individuals who went ahead long before we were born. On this day, All Saints Day, we recall those stories, because they are a part of the novel that we are writing together, the story of humanity. But when it comes time to end a chapter, that's when things become uneasy. We love to talk about new beginnings and fresh starts, but endings have never really been our specialty.
However, perhaps in our avoidance of talking about death, dying and resurrection hope, we have forgotten how to talk, to feel, about death. Ironically, in our aversion to confronting the sting of death, we have allowed ourselves to become even more susceptible to the pain by glancing over the hard conversations that often arise over the issue of our last chapters. That is why it is essential to talk about death, dying, and the resurrection in a way that holds the grief, loss, joy, and resurrection hope together. It is a package that cannot be piecemealed, but one that needs to be taken as a whole as we experience the fullness of who God created us to be.
During my time as a hospital chaplain, my supervisor never allowed us to say that someone had "passed" away. Whenever we talked about the loss of a patient, my supervisor encouraged us to say that they instead "died." Truth be told, it didn't feel right. The word never really wanted to roll off the tongue, nor was there any reason it should come so naturally. Looking back, though, I could see what my supervisor was trying to do, which was to instill a certain level of comfort when it came to how we talked about death. Because if we were able to take back control, we might discover that in the midst of grief and loss, there is something else waiting to be found.
I’m not sure if there is a right or wrong thing to be found, but I’ve come to believe that when we change our mindset in regards to death, there is something we will uncover in the process of working through our various feelings. In the last chapter of his book Being Mortal, which I highly suggest you read, Atul Gawande writes on the courage we need to embody when we talk about life:
I am leery of suggesting the idea that endings are controllable. No one ever really has control. Physics, biology and accident ultimately have their way in our lives. But the point is that we are not helpless either. Courage is the strength to recognize both realities. We have room to act, to shape our stories, though as time goes on it is within narrower and narrower confines. A few conclusions have become clear when we understand this: that our most cruel failure is how we treat the sick and the aged is the failure to recognize they have priorities beyond merely being safe and living longer; that the chance to shape one’s own story is essential to sustaining meaning in life; that we have opportunity to refashion our institutions, our culture, and our conversations in ways that transform the possibilities for the last chapters of everyone’s lives. (Gawande, 243)
It's a blessing and a joy to be able to be light-bearers, story-tellers, who carry the essence of those who have gone before them. It's a blessing as well to be ones who have control over the stories that are shared and to honor the gift of life that we have been bestowed. That is why we cannot squander the opportunities we have to take control in shaping how we want those last few chapters of our lives to pan out. It's not selfish, and it's not morbid, it's what we call being a responsible steward of the gift of life and making sure that that gift if preserved.
On this All Saints Day, we are posed with a peculiar question, "Will we let the sting of death win? Or will we overcome, by not only carrying the stories of others but shaping our own stories as well?" This morning we have time to pause, to reflect, and ask ourselves this question. As we celebrate, as we remember the lives of the many saints of God, we are given a moment to reflect on our own narrative as well. Not in a depressing downtrodden manner, but one that looks forward with courage, hope, and assurance that our lives are, and will continue to be, part of God's ongoing tapestry.
As we hear Jesus this morning, speaking a litany of blessings, we take to heart what it means for those who mourn to be comforted. And as we will soon name those whom we have lost, we remember those stories that have not been shared. We recognize this morning those who have perished at unjust hands and systems — those who have died in the darkened corners of political tyrannies. We remember the stories of those who have died in faraway places while serving either country of their fellow human beings. We honor the stories of those who have died in from others' ignorance and hate, the countless number of stories that have been silenced because of a person's race, creed, gender, or ideology.
The sting of death is only as powerful as we are willing to let it. The sting of death is real, and it is painful, it is something that we all have experienced. But there is something that is greater, something far more powerful than death, and that is the life that comes from God. It is sustaining life that we find in one another, and it is the wellspring of courage that we can draw upon as we look to the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us on a daily basis. "Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted." These words are more than a promise; they represent a reality that is manifested in the here and now. Each time we pay respects to those who have passed, each time we help the needy and stand up to injustice, and each time we provide a shoulder for someone to cry on, these words prove true.
Death cannot separate us from love. The love we find in God, the love that we witness in those who are near to us, and the love that we feel from the great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us. Death cannot separate us from those feelings and divine connections that bring us close to the heart of God. So on this day, and really every day, go out and embrace the gift of life. Take up the holy charge of living a life that tells your story, face death head on by not being afraid to talk about it, and when we do come to that time, be sure to provide comfort and care as you would hope for the same. And lastly, may you feel the love of God, if not now sometime soon, I pray. It manifests itself in our neighbors, friends, and family, and ties us all together with saints here in the present, past, and future. Amen.