Monday, June 8, 2009

Why it hurts

I just got back from Makenzie Stocker's funeral... it's funny how that word "funeral" sticks on my fingers as I type. The service was more of a worship event than it was like any sort of "funeral" I've been to before.

For those who don't know, Makenzie Stocker was a promising young ballerina (18 years old) who died in a car accident last Wednesday night. (She's the granddaughter of our choir director and the daughter of a new and dear friend to me personally.) More than a promising dancer, however, Kenzie was a beautiful daughter of God and unashamed follower of Jesus Christ.

One of the things that struck me today (in addition to the hundreds upon hundreds that attended the service) was a quote shared by one of Makenzie's teachers during his 'remembrance.' It's from C.S. Lewis' Four Loves:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell."

One of the things that troubles me at funerals is all of the curious platitudes we slip off to one another in an effort to avoid the brokenness of our hearts. And then we don't stop at that - we start putting the same words on the lips of God such that he becomes a sort of numb and distant deity who doesn't really have a clue about what life down here is like.

Nothing could be farther than the truth.

I'm glad that the same creator and sustainer of the universe of which Paul speaks in Colossians 1:15-20 is the same One who joins the uncontrollable sobbing outside the tomb of his friend Lazarus (John 11). Ours is a God who loves and in doing so has become vulnerable.

Perhaps in our effort to "get over" grief and help others do the same, we race past a God who would weep along with us in the brokenness of his own heart?

Thanks Lutheran South Academy teacher, whoever you were, for allowing me permission to stand in the mess of my grief and in doing so to be met by God.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I agree. We seem to be in such a hurry to get on with it that we forget to experience the loss. There are so many things that happen to us that we need to take time to grieve. For me, if I don't I begin to get numb and not truly live and experience my life. And yes, that can mean tears and sadness for a season. Let's remember to be good listeners and just allow people breath to express how they really feel instead of what people want to hear.

Anonymous said...

When we do experience a loss it can turn into a selfish expression. Why? When OUR loved one's pass, WE grieve OUR loss, with OUR tears, OUR cries. WE have a sense of something being taken away from US.

Instead, we should rejoice that our loved one is home with the Lord! They are no longer suffering in our world. They are in a place without sickness or wickedness and they stand in the presence of God. Hallelujah!!

Let us all live the way Christ has prescribed. So instead of saying "Goodbye" we can say "See you later".

Lord Bless.