Lent 2022 | Day 36: Tears

One of the most remarkable moments in Jesus’s ministry is when he arrives in Bethany to see about his friend Lazarus.

One of the most remarkable moments in Jesus’s ministry is when he arrives in Bethany to see about his friend Lazarus. It is remarkable because it is the only time where Jesus is recorded to have wept about anything or anyone. This is not mean that it may not have happened at another time. However, because this is the only instance recorded in the Gospels it serves to highlight Jesus’s response to the loss of a close friend.

There are many reasons for which we might find ourselves shedding tears. And what makes the act of crying so interesting is that it may be the result of great joy or deep sadness. The fact that tears may be caused by such a varied range of emotions makes it an interesting phenomenon in the human experience.

In the case of Jesus’s weeping over the death of Lazarus, we can see that the instance was that of deep sorrow. We see in the story how both Mary and Martha knew that Jesus could have prevented Lazarus’s death. But Jesus remained where he was for a day longer. We know now Jesus did in fact raise Lazarus from the grave. But at the time there was a lot of uncertainty in the minds and hearts of all those involved.

So what are we to make of the tears Jesus wept over a friend he had the power to resurrect? It could be tempting to make more of it than is warranted. We do not know what was going through Jesus’s mind at the time. But I think if we consider that Jesus’s love for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus was genuine then we must grant that Jesus’s tears were as much for the loss the sisters endured as it was for Lazarus’s death.

Anyone who has experienced the physical death and loss of a loved one will know the pain which I am speaking of. There is an emptiness felt because of the finality of the person’s absence. And while we hope in the coming time of the resurrection when Jesus returns, few of us will ever know the joy of having someone who has passed being brought back to life.

Mary and Martha had to face one of the darkest moments of their life and then had the opportunity to see their brother returned to them. And in those days and events, they experienced both the deep tears of sorrow and the excited tears of unexpected joy.

The human experience that we all must journey through will afford us the opportunity to experience both of these extremes. The question is will we be able to hold on to our faith regardless of where or why we might find ourselves weeping.

As we prepare to celebrate the glorious resurrection of Jesus Christ in just a few short days, may we not fear the tears of sadness or anticipate those of joy that this moment elicits in us. Regardless of the reason, may the tears of sorrow and of joy serve as a cleansing expression of the oftentimes unutterable realities we encounter in life.

Lent 2022 | Day 34: Life

Often times comes when life is lost. It is only when contrasted against death that the precious nature of life becomes easier to see.

Any discussion about life requires a greater appreciation for what it is. The insight required to make this assessment often times comes when life is lost. It is only when contrasted against death that the precious nature of life becomes easier to see.

According to Christian teaching, putting our faith in the sacrificial work of Jesus Christ on the cross produces an effect in our experience of life. We come to realize how sin has fractured our relationship with God and distorted our understanding of self. In the sacrifice of the son of God on the cross of Calvary we see how seriously God saw our sin. And in this clarifying understanding we can make sense of why the life we now have in Jesus is to be cherished and valued.

It can be difficult to understand the method God use to provide for our salvation. Everything involved in saving those who are separated from God and lost in their sin would require countless lifetimes to fully grasp. And yet it is possible to see, from an experiential point of view, that death is the end of something that cannot be undone. This is why those of us who trust in Christ lean so intentionally into the promise that our salvation has neutralized the damning effects of sin.

We may still have to endure the process of transitioning from this life to a new life but we have reason to hope that what awaits us is truly there. The totality of the Christian experience hinges on Jesus’s fulfillment of his word to prepare a place for us (John 14:1-3). And so we wait until the time when we transition or Jesus returns.

Life is a precious gift. And it is one we should never take for granted. Even when the journey gets hard and the obstacles seem to be unending we can choose to look forward and hope. And it is a choice we have to make. It can be hard. And sometimes it may feel impossible. But in moments like that I am reminded of God’s gracious gift both in the life I now have an in the new life Christ has given to me.

As we enter the final week of Lent, let us look with both anticipation and joy that God has provided a way for us. I think it’s important to remember that this way is shared by all who put their hope and trust in Jesus. And so as we travel this road we do not have to travel alone. I encourage you to take heart in that.

Death 150 Yards Away

Late last year, a young man I’ve never met and of whom I know nothing about died in a car accident. The reason I’m even writing about it; the reason for bringing it up at all is that it happened yards from where I live.

From my vantage point, I knew that it was not a good situation. As the reports finally hit the news wire, it became clear that another life had ended far too soon. Sooner than he and his family and friends expected.

There were so many thoughts and emotions I had that night and even today as I write about it. Many of which you can imagine. But the one that lingers and hovers over them all is this: was he ready?

Not in the sense that he could have anticipated that that day would be his last day on earth. But more in the sense of what was his spiritual life like? Did he have someone who had shared the truth of the Gospel of life with him? The beautiful news that assures us that regardless of the seeming randomness of life, we can live in and with hope.

Was he ready? I don’t know. And in some ways, I am afraid to know. His death saddened me then and it saddens me now. But, it challenges me to do more to speak with those I encounter in my daily journey to consider Jesus and to trust in him.

I guess wondering if he was ready, really makes me wonder if I am ready. Ready to say and do what the Gospel demands and requires of me.

Reflection Prayer:

Almighty God, conform my heart and mind to your will, to be sensitive to the promptings of your Holy Spirit, that I may have eyes to see and ears to hear when you may need me to speak to a wandering soul the Gospel of salvation, in the name of your son Jesus Christ, Amen.

On the Death of Kobe Bryant

The loss of any person to tragic circumstances is hard. Even when they are not well know. But there is something about the death of a person whose name many recognize that makes it more shocking. There is the feeling that there was something of us in them.

As the news of Kobe Bryant’s death spread yesterday, the reaction from social media to my family’s living room was actually quite similar. Shock. Surprise. Sadness. The loss of any person to tragic circumstances is hard. Even when they are not well know. But there is something about the death of a person whose name many recognize that makes it more shocking. There is the feeling that there was something of us in them. That is why there is something else we mourn when a hero dies.

I am not a basketball fan. So, I don’t have much to say about the accolades that Kobe Bryant earned during his career in the National Basketball Association. He has been lauded as one of the greatest of his generation to play the game. Maybe one of the best ever. I will leave that determination to those who know better.

In total, there were nine individuals who perished in the crash. While accidents happen all of the time, when a famous person dies, something happens to the collective consciousness of those who recognize the name. The more recognizable the name, the greater the shock. There is something within us that struggles to let go of the ideas and images of the famous. Their legend possesses an immortality that far exceeds the truth: Famous people die too.

All who bear the mark of the human image must live under the weight of our finitude. We all have an expiration date. We just don’t know when that will be. I think this is what shocks us most.

As a pastor, there were two aspects of these events that cause my heart to grieve. Both of which have to do with the fact I am a father.

Reports indicate that the helicopter was heading to a basketball game for one of his daughters. I can only imagine the joy he had in being able to participate in this moment. To have a child who enjoyed the very game you gave so much of your life to. And to be able to share in it with them. It is a beautiful testament to the great responsibility we who are parents feel for our children. I grieve for his other children who will grow up without the love of their father. I grieve for all the other children who lost parents in the crash as well.

Second, I grieve for the loss of the children in the crash. No parent should bury their child. That is not the way it should happen. But, we live in a world where it does. I don’t know how I would feel if that were my story. I’m not sure anyone really does. I know I looked at my children and was thankful for one more day with them. And that is something we all should do when things like this happen.

Every loss is an opportunity to remember what we still have. The greater the loss, the greater the opportunity. It may not happen in the moment, but I hope and pray that eventually, we can look and see that we are more blessed than we ever thought in spite of the loss or the pain.

I will pray for the families of all who lost a loved one in the crash yesterday. I pray that the love of God find them and comfort them in this time of mourning.

The 7 Last Words of Christ | “Hands”

⁴⁴ It was now about the sixth hour, and there was darkness over the whole land until the ninth hour, ⁴⁵ while the sun’s light failed. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two. ⁴⁶ Then Jesus, calling out with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” And having said this he breathed his last. ⁴⁷ Now when the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God, saying, “Certainly this man was innocent!” ⁴⁸ And all the crowds that had assembled for this spectacle, when they saw what had taken place, returned home beating their breasts. ⁴⁹ And all his acquaintances and the women who had followed him from Galilee stood at a distance watching these things.

Meditation on the Seventh Word

Death, the final enemy, no longer has the power to terrorize or torment us. The only power death has over us is the power we give it. Those who have placed their trust in Christ can follow His lead into the presence of God. These are words of comfort; words of peace; words of instruction. The journey that Jesus has traveled has been long and, at times, difficult. But we see here in the final moments that the reward is worth the cost. “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit!” Jesus is dead. The hope of Glory seems to have been lost. We are left now with the heavy charge to contemplate these things.

Song of Contemplation

Were You There When They Crucified My Lord

“The High Cost of Love” | Remembering Frank Thompson

julie and frank

Frank LaDon Thompson

August 19, 1969 – October 14, 2015

Yesterday afternoon I was sitting at home watching a baseball game when I found out that my friend Frank’s journey here on earth had come to an end. He died due to complications related to his heart and kidney transplant surgery.

The sensation of numbness washed over me like a wave. And then another came. And then another.

It is always surreal to hear the news of a death. There is the finality of it all. Knowing that the next time you think about them, all you will have are the cherished memories you made with them. Knowing that you will not be able to call or text or message them. Knowing in a way that, quite literally, takes your breath away. Where you voice catches in your throat and you experience that waves of sadness wash over you again.

It’s always worse at the beginning. The power and weight of the waves seem to not let up. You struggle to find your bearings or even catch you breath. You feel like you are drowning, even wondering if that would be better than this. Anything would be better, or so it feels at the moment.

I met Frank and Julie while I was serving as the youth pastor of the First United Methodist Church is Cordele, GA. I did not know them all that well. Cordele First was Julie’s family’s home church. I had known her youngest sister from college, something I found out later. And one day while at the church Julie asked me if I would be interested in officiating their wedding. Honestly, I cannot remember why they asked me to do their wedding. We had crossed paths at the church during their visits but, I don’t remember doing or saying anything that impressive or memorable. Nonetheless, they asked and I accepted.

We did their marriage counseling over Skype and I knew that these two were good people. The kind of people who make you feel accepted and cared for. The kind of people who know how to love. They loved deeply, sincerely. With every fiber of their being they gave of themselves to each other and to those who accepted what they offered.

I knew they were going to make it as a couple and a family because of the way they laughed, both individually and together. I have always been an observer of laughter. What we laugh at tells a lot about us. But, how we laugh says even more. And Frank and Julie knew how to laugh. Those laughs, both distinct and unique. Both memorable. Both true expressions of the souls that saw the joy of life and love.

When I found out about Frank’s heart problems I began to pray. Many of us who loved them did. We saw the changes. We knew it was serious. So we prayed. We prayed because that is what we are supposed to do. And through it all Frank remained positive. Burdened by the reality of his situation, and yet resolute to love and lead his family through it. This he did like the man I remember. He promised to be there for Julie through it all. I was there when he made that promise. But Julie made a promise too. A promise she made to which she has remained true.

It may be something bred into the Adams women because they are strong. In Julie that strength is more like a fire. It looks calm and tame. But look long enough and you will see it. In meekness she fought the fight for life with her husband. She fought with him and for him until the end. There was no surrender, no backing down, no letting go. Not until it was time.

This is the high cost of love. To give of yourself until there is nothing left. To give to those who have captured your heart and whose lives have become indistinguishably intertwined with your own. When you love like this there is a price to be paid. And we pay it gladly. We recognize the risk and accept it because we would rather feel the pain on the other side of our present joy, than to have never felt the love at all.

The depth of our mourning is a measure of the quality of our love. Frank is being mourned by his wife, children, family, and friends today (and for days to come). We mourn for him because he gave us a part of himself and, now that he is gone from this world, we do not want to lose what he gifted to us.

I will continue to pray for Julie and the girls. I will pray for all of us who knew him. And, in the midst of the sorrow, I will find a way rejoice because Frank was a man of faith. He loved others with the love he himself had come to know. So, while I mourn, I want to also rejoice and remember my friend, not just because he died, but because of the way he lived his life.

This post has been updated.

In Memory of Pastor Ray Burnette | A Shepherd has Fallen

The Reverend

Ray Burnette

1953 – 2015

Yesterday I learned that Pastor Ray passed from this life into eternity. I served in the same community as he did for four years and interacted with him on a several occasions. I am grateful for his service to his family, the Crisp County community, and to the great family of faith at Penia Baptist Church.
Continue reading “In Memory of Pastor Ray Burnette | A Shepherd has Fallen”

Death, Mourning, and Pastoral Care

Today was one of those days when you just don’t know what to do. This morning I received word that a friend’s father had died suddenly. Within an hour of that message, a member of my church also faced the same reality. I shared with my wife that there is never a good time to hear news like this. As the person receiving the news about the news I was reminded again of how fragile, transitory, and temporary our journey upon this orb called Earth really is.

Death is a violation of our Souls

I hate death. It is the greatest enemy of our peace of mind. Those who do not think of death–either their own or that of others–live with a carelessness that is both unhealthy and dangerous. Then there are those who cannot get away from a morbid and fatalistic way of thinking about life. Both of these extremes are not helpful. We have to find a way to find balance when contemplating the finality of life.

I did not always believe what I am about to say. But, my thoughts have been impacted by my own experiences and being a witness to how my time on earth is being marked by the growth of my own children. If we are going to make the most of this life we must live in light of our own mortality. I may not like the idea that I will not live forever, but this should not be a hindrance to evaluating my life and making priorities based on the finitude of the same.

What this means is that we must make honest evaluations of who we are, who we want to be, and what we have to do to reduce the discrepancy between the two. Death is the grand equalizer. It puts all of humanity upon equal footing. There is no escaping death’s grasp or results. One day death will take us. The one question that lingers in my mind on days like today is this: When my time is up will I have lived in a manner meriting thi great gift of life?

We all have to ask ourselves this question. If we do not we risk squandering our lives on things that are vacuous and limited.

The truth of the matters is that death is a violation of our souls. It grips us and threatens to hold us captive. This does not need to be so. The Bible offers us a powerful reminder that God has dealt death a death blow. Death has been defeated. It has been stripped of its power and emptied of its venom. Our hope is not found in our ability, but in Christ’s capability to infuse our lives with his own. A mortal life must be sustained by the eternal life of the Son of God. Without his life in us, there is no life for us.

Mourning is a process

I want to offer a word of advice to those who, like me, are hearers of the news about the news. Please stop saying stupid things to those in mourning. The depth of sorrow felt is, at the very least, in proportion to the love felt for the one who was lost in death. If the one who has experienced the loss loved someone for three decades of life, do not expect them get over it or move on in a month, or a year, or whatever other time frame you think is appropriate.

Please, just shut up! Mourning is a process and the emptiness that is left is not something that can be quantified or timed. Yes, we should be on the look out for signs of prolonged depression and sadness. We should stay close enough to know when the one mourning is struggling to make sense of what has happened. We should offer words of comfort and reminders of our love for them. What we should avoid are assumptions of how long the wound a death makes will take to heal in a person’s life.

We should stop and listen more than trying to think of something to say. There is nothing to say. The death of a loved one cannot be truncated into the trite and religious platitudes so many times offered because we don’t know what else to say.

Pastoral Care is doing more by doing less

In my first official church job, I learned some valuable lessons regarding pastoral care that have helped me in the years since. My job as a pastor is just to be present when everyone else just wants to leave. One of the unspoken truths of ministry is that we will encounter people on the worst days and most difficult moments of their lives.

This is not a call to be a superman. This is a call to humble sacrifice. To mourn with those who mourn. It truly is one of the most difficult aspects of ministry. There will be time to speak the truth about salvation and heaven; hope and joy; peace and God’s promises. There will be time to be the “preacher”. The truth of the matter is that in times of mourning what most people need is just another fellow traveler willing to stop.

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I have been thinking about these things all day. I just wanted to put some of my thoughts down before the feelings dissipated.

How have you learned to deal with death and mourning?

What advise would you give to a pastor about caring for those grieving a loss?

The Lingering Effect of Death’s Assault

In Memory of

Jacob Carlyle Davis

August 20, 1986 – December 28, 2010

Two years ago my family experienced one of the most devastating events we had ever faced. Two years ago my brother-in-law died in a car accident. The “facts” of what happened simply do not have the ability to communicate the emotions that I feel this morning as I remember him and how much I miss him. His mom and sister (my wife) feel a different kind of pain. Their knowledge of him was intimate, personal and began from before Jacob entered into the world. When I met him, Jacob didn’t even know who he wanted to be. He didn’t know that he was supposed to become anything. He was a chubby kid struggling to make sense of the inhumanity of middle schoolers. I knew Jacob for more than half of his life. I think that’s what hurts the most. There is no more time for us.

I know what I believe about death. As a follower of Jesus I know Jacob is with our Savior. I know. I know Jacob loved Jesus and never missed an opportunity to share this with those around him. I know he loved helping others get over what ailed them. He was good at that. But, he is no here to help me! He is gone and I miss him.

All of the cute things that we say sometimes really don’t help. “He lives on in our memories.” Yeah, well memories have a tendency to fade. “His love will carry you through.” OK, thanks but, I’d rather feel the warm embrace rather than the cold recollection of a time gone by.

I woke up this morning and saw some of the comments of those who loved Jacob as they remembered him. I was overwhelmed by the flood of emotion that I felt as I read them. I have heard that the depth of our pain is a reflection of the love we had/have for those now gone. I guess I loved/love him more than I realized. This is the realization I didn’t expect.

Two years, and I still feel the lingering effect of death’s assault on my heart. Jacob may not have been my flesh and blood, but we were family. I have come to realize that I still miss him and that will be OK. There is no expiration date on love. For this I am grateful.

Previous Reflections

2011: An Anniversary I Do Not Want To Celebrate

Remembering James Bailey Bodrey | “Too Short A Life”

James Bailey Bodrey

April 1, 1994 – October 20, 2012

I found out about James’ accident this morning as I was getting ready for a meeting. I was shocked by the news that his accident required him being taken to Macon. In the span of a couple of hours the news was not getting better. The sinking feeling in my stomach increased as word began to spread. By mid-afternoon, the worst outcome from this entire ordeal was realized. James had died, and part of all of the hearts of those of us who cared for him felt as if it had died too.

There are so many emotions that come over you when someone you know dies. But, those emotions are intensified and are even worse when that person is younger than you are. My first reaction to the news was anger. I was angry that another young man had died before the prime of his life. I was angry because it just did not seem fair that James died. I was angry at all the crazy things that would be said in an attempt to make the family “feel better.” There is no feeling better about this. This event, these moments are horrible and none of us wants to even think about them for another second!

But, as the day went on I became angry at myself. I realized that I made the mistake (once again) that I promised I would never make. I was angry because of all those moments and days that I had taken for granted. Life is far too short to allow ourselves to drift through it. I was upset about all of this, but then something else struck me. What struck me was all the young men and women at James’ alma mater, Crisp Academy, who knew and loved him. I thought of them and to them I direct these next words.

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Dear Crisp Academy Student,

I do not pretend to know how you are feeling. For many of you, the shock of this will take some time to think through. My prayer is that as you think about James and his life, that you would also take a look at your own life. And think about never taking any day for granted again.

How do you take a day for granted? When you complain about what you would rather be doing, instead of enjoying what you are doing (even when it’s homework or sitting in a classroom). When you are wondering about what somebody else said and then waste all that time worrying and plotting. You will never get that time back, and it was spent on something that will not make your life better. When you are so preoccupied with what is coming next in life that you will completely miss what is happening now. These are all ways that we take the gift of each day for granted.

Every time someone younger than me dies I am reminded that life is a precious gift. Tomorrow is not promised to any of us. Every morning is an opportunity to give thanks to God for opening our eyes. I want to remind you, in spite of your young age, to remember that each minute of life is given to us to enjoy. Don’t waste another day doing anything that you will regret.

My memories of James come from going to Crisp Academy every Wednesday and seeing him walk into the lunchroom with that goofy grin on his face and those bigger than life ears sticking out from the side of his head. I can hear him cutting up and talking trash about some rival team or the “other school in the county.” I remember him enjoying being who he was. He didn’t really try to pretend to be someone else. That is what I will remember.

Take care of yourself, strive to truly live everyday, enjoy every moment and may God bless you.

Victor Scott
Youth Pastor
Cordele First UMC