Daily Devotions

Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also. For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away.

I am the scorn of all my adversaries, a horror to my neighbors, an object of dread to my acquaintances; those who see me in the street flee from me. I have passed out of mind like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel. For I hear the whispering of many— terror all around!— as they scheme together against me, as they plot to take my life.

But I trust in you, O Lord; I say, “You are my God.” My times are in your hand; deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors. Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love.

Do not let me be put to shame, O Lord, for I call on you; let the wicked be put to shame; let them go dumbfounded to Sheol. Let the lying lips be stilled that speak insolently against the righteous with pride and contempt. Psalm 31:9-18

Last night I spoke at a memorial service for the brother of a friend who has become part of the Faith Lutheran community. It was a different kind of memorial service and, as I prepared for my part, I found myself choosing a Bible reading that I have never used before. And as I spoke, I said some things that I have never said before at such a service.

There are two things that I have always heard people say about funerals. People appreciate when funerals are very personal. And people can sense a difference if the pastor really knows, or seems to know, the person around which everyone has gathered.

I can appreciate those thoughts and I don’t disparage them. However, regardless of how personal we attempt to make memorial services, the reality is that death is the great equalizer. Death shows no preference for gender, class, race, religion, region, or any of the other humanly created illusions of difference. As a Christian I can only believe that when anyone dies, anywhere, I have lost a brother or a sister and I trust that God has prepared a place for us to meet again. A place without tears in eyes or tears in the fabric of God’s beautiful creation.

As for “knowing the person”, I get that. It is one of the most emotionally wrenching aspects of my job. I can’t win at that one. Sometimes it is hard to contain my own grief, either because of my relationship with the person who died or my love for those left behind. And when I don’t know anyone in the room, let’s say the funeral home just called looking for someone to help a family because “they think their loved one used to be Lutheran or something at some time”, I feel a different sort of pain. It hurts to know that a funeral is just a moment in time – that real grief is a community endeavor and I know that the conversation that needs to happen might not happen as this might be my only time to be with that particular family before everyone goes their separate ways.

So last night I talked about how much more important it is, not that I know the man who we have gathered to remember, but that God knows him. Not only do I believe God knows him, I believe God knows him far better than any of you knows him, better even that he knew himself. And that God loves him, not for HOW he was, but for WHO he was. Another broken, sinful, beautiful, complex, work of human art wrought by the loving creative hands of the Author of the Universe.

So no, I didn’t know the people we are praying for this week. The police officers and the men whose lives were taken far too cruelly and far too soon. I don’t know their families, their children, and their friends. But God does and they are my brothers and sisters.

The great equalizer has reminded us all again that life on this planet does not last forever. So how will we use this time, so often marked by a sense that “my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away.”?

Could we do any better than speaking the truth in love? In seeking first to understand rather than be understood? In asking for the grace to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute us, in forgiving others and in that in finding ourselves forgiven? Is there a better, more hopeful, way to live than that?

Rest in peace, my sisters and brothers. And the rest of us? Could we do better than loving God and loving our neighbor?

Let us pray: Gracious Lord, today we pray for wisdom and discernment, for truth and integrity, for hope and for hopefulness. We pray that the lost not be forgotten and that our hearts not turn to stone. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

This entry was posted on July 21, 2016 at 3:44 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.