'Wanting the manger to stay empty"

"This year, as I journey toward the pulpit on Christmas Eve, I do so as a pregnant woman. I am due in May, and holding my breath that this baby will make it and be healthy. I approach worship knowing that in my longest night, which ended up lasting for about two months a year ago, I was not alone. The people in my congregation, too, need to know they are not alone. I approach Christmas with new sensitivity to the pain of the people in the pews who may be faking their way through the joy of the season. But isn’t that really the way it is for all of us who observe the Christian year? Even as our Advent journey comes to a close at Christmas, we know that right around the corner is Lent. Our journey is beyond the stable and toward the cross. Joy tinged with pain, but also always surrounded above and beneath, behind and before, completely hemmed in by hope."

This beautifully written paragraph is the final one in a blog entry written by Emily Peck-McClain, an ordained Methodist minister who had, just the year before, miscarried 6 days short of Christmas (her second miscarriage).  Shared through the website www.youngclergywomen.org, her piece was entitled "Wanting the manger to stay empty."  

It is her gift to all who have walked this or a similar path.  A Blessed Christmas to all.

In the face of great sorrow

In the face of great sorrow, people of faith
          grieve
          cry out
          are uncertain of the future, its path and its obstacles
          doubt their own strength and ability to carry on.

They also
           lean into Jesus' promise to be present
           cling to the hope of God's future
           reach out to others who also sorrow
           rely on the fellowship of believers to carry them for a little while
           trust in God's ultimate love.

People of faith commend our loved ones into the hands of God thus:

 Into your hands merciful Savior we commend our brother Mark....

a sheep of your own fold,

a lamb of your own flock,

 a sinner of your own redeeming......

Remember in your prayers today those who face great sorrow.  If you can't think of anyone in particular than consider the victims of sexual assault, the parents of suffering children, the spouses of those killed in military service, those who love someone with debilitating mental illness. 

If today you are not facing great sorrow, then your task is to pray for them and hold them up. As people of faith we are not only claimed by our Lord and called into his living body, we are called to act as the body for the sake of others.  So, just like a sore toe will cause you to carry more weight on the other foot, we as members of the body bear the weight of others who, in this moment, are weaker.  Some of us make casseroles; some of us offer rides or do some babysitting; some of us run errands.  All of us are called to pray.

We pray not that our desires will win out but rather that our desires might intersect with God's will, and in the act of praying we learn to walk with God, trusting that whatever the outcome, God's great love is at work.

This is how you will learn to face great sorrow yourself. 

Thanks to all for your constant prayers for Mark.  He now rests with God.  Remember his family.

Why?

When faced with great loss, Why? is often the first question.
It is neither a request for information nor is it a request for an explanation.  Applying the laws of logic to a situation of loss only serves to minimize and objectivize the wrenching hurt.

Why? is an existential question.  Why is there such pain in this world?  Why has the world conspired to bring such tragedy to this person at this time? 

And, How?  How am I going to go on with my life: washing dishes, and getting gas, and mowing the lawn with such a great sorrow on my heart?  When?  When will I be able to breathe freely again?  When will I laugh again?

Theologians will discuss and explain knowing that their explanations will bring no comfort.  Comfort comes from God - and from all those in this world who reach out in love and offer to hold the one who sorrows until they can see the sun rise again.  That was one of the gifts of Easter morning: the sunrise at the Son's rising.

We weep; we sing

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

This is one verse of the hymn, O Come O Come Emmanuel.  David Lose, professor of preaching at Luther Seminary reflects on his experience when it came time to sing this hymn on the Sunday following the events in Newtown, CT.

“[This is] the verse based on Isaiah’s promise that “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shown.” (9:1), and it’s appointed… for December 21^st, the winter solstice and darkest day of year.

“It was very difficult to sing this past Sunday. But over time I’ve learned… that songs are powerful. Laments express our grief and fear so as to honor these deep and difficult emotions and simultaneously strip them of their power to incapacitate us. Songs of praise and thanksgiving unite us with the One to whom we lift our voices. And canticles of courage and promise not only name our hopes but also contribute to bringing them into being.

“Songs are powerful. But at times also difficult, and the violence of the last days has robbed many of us of our voice. But it will not always be so. We will catch our breath, hold onto each other, remember that we are not alone, and lift our voices once again in lament and praise, promise and defiance.

“Mary sings (Luke 1.46-55) of God’s mercy, promising that God lifts up the lonely, the downtrodden, and the oppressed, not just of her day, but of our own as well. So as we take up her song, we call upon God to remember those families whose children did not come home from school on Friday, those families who already wrapped Christmas presents that will never be opened, those families who will struggle not just this holiday but for many to come. And we beseech God on behalf of all those who mourn, or are lonely, or do not have enough food, or live in places of strife and war, or who struggle with mental illness or care for them, and so many more.”

This is our calling as people of faith; to hold fast those who cannot stand on their own and to bring their cries before God.  As the baby Jesus is born yet again, we look into the cross and give thanks that this world does not have the last word.

David Lose’s column can be found at www.workingpreacher.org