Category Archives: Grieving

With a Passion

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The Passion of the Christ.“The Passion of Christ,” Mel Gibson’s movie about the crucifixion, is extremely difficult to watch, but it’s the least I can do in trying to think seriously about Christ’s intense suffering. This year while watching, something new occurred to me.

 

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In the opening scene as Jesus agonizes in Gethsemane just before being arrested, we’re shown 3 sleeping disciples who Jesus had brought with him for support during his darkest hour. I’ve always thought of Peter, James, and John as being irresponsible in their untimely napping while their teacher and friend suffered so terribly.

This year I checked my Bible for more information. Luke says that their sleep came as a result of “exhaustion from sorrow.” Untimely napping, then, isn’t an accurate description of what was happening.

Earlier that night Jesus had given these men a boatload of bad news. They were in the process of internalizing it when they’d been asked to accompany him to the garden, and when they got there, they watched him fall apart. Confusion, fear, and sorrow mixed together to overcome them completely.

Jesus’ response to finding them sleeping was interesting. Although he was “a man of sorrows” himself and knew how they felt, he instructed them to “get up and pray.” He didn’t tell them what to pray about, but he did add, “Pray so that you don’t fall into temptation.”

What temptation was he talking about? Could he have meant the temptation to get stuck in their debilitating sorrow? He needed these men to remain strong, not only to support him but to cope with everything that lay ahead. Even so, Jesus wasn’t harsh with them. He said something like this: “I know your spirits are willing to stay awake, to watch, to pray, but I also know the human side of you has been weakened right now.”

Even during his most excruciating hour, Jesus was still teaching them. Maybe he was saying, “Don’t be tempted to get stuck in your sorrow. I’m fighting the same temptation right now, but I will not give in. My spirit is willing to endure whatever my Father asks, and I want you to do the same.”

Anyone who’s been swamped with grief, even a grief much lesser than that of Jesus, knows the temptation to get stuck in it. Deep sorrow is exhausting and can immobilize us, despite our spirits not wanting to succumb. But sometimes we’re too weak to resist it.

Jesus gives his disciples (and us) the way to successfully resist: watch and pray. He implies we won’t suffer in our grief longer than necessary if we’ll follow those instructions. And when we look at how he victoriously overcame tremendous temptation in the garden that night, how can we do any less?

Sleeping in the garden

“When he rose from prayer and went back to the disciples, he found them asleep, exhausted from sorrow… ‘Get up and pray so that you will not fall into temptation.’ ” (Luke 22:45-46)

Between the Lines

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Historically the headliners in genealogies have been men rather than women, but as is true with the numbers of all genealogies, we can read between the lines.

While still studying my father’s ancestry, several memorable bits of information have come to light. My great-grandmother, Anna Stina Johansdotter, lived an interesting and full life, though she certainly had her share of woe. Born in 1827, she willingly married a man 8 years her senior who was already a widower with two children under 5 years old. He needed a new wife, and Anna Stina committed to him, eventually giving him 6 more children.

According to genealogy birth and death dates, though, her first daughter died one month before her first birthday, and her fifth child, a son, died shortly after delivery. Such heartbreak surely drove her to the Lord for sustenance and encouragement, but do we know for sure?

Of her 4 remaining biological children, 3 left Sweden for America in their late teens/early 20’s, knowing they’d probably never return. Surely this, too, was difficult for Anna Stina. But God blessed her with 8 grandchildren through her step-daughter alone, all of whom remained close-by.

Death notice, Anna Stina

Her husband, Johannes Andersson, died after just 24 years of marriage, leaving Anna Stina a widow for 31 years. We get a glimpse into the heart of this strong woman, though, by reading her death notice, translated from Swedish:

…that our dearly loved mother, Anna Stina Johansdotter in Hol Berget, after patiently bearing suffering, peacefully went to sleep with her faith in her Savior, Nov. 13, 1913, at an age of 86 years, 1 month and 24 days, deeply mourned and missed by children, grandchildren and many other relatives and friends. It is our sad duty to make this known.    

In the words of her obituary we see how she was able to cope: it was her Savior. Her personal Savior. His name was Jesus Christ, and she trusted him in life, in death(s), in disappointment, and through her own final illness.

Carl Johansson and bride, 1898

And so the journey through my father’s father’s father’s father’s side of our family ends, though much more could be told. To see God’s maneuvering of events and relationships in order to walk alongside them was deeply satisfying. And it’s something he eagerly does for anyone willing to let him be involved.

Linking up with the Father, Son, and Spirit didn’t guarantee my ancestors worldly prosperity or protection from hardship, but it did promise both prosperity and protection in the living they would do after dying.

Today all of them have taken delivery of those things. No more babies dying. No more children leaving without returning. No more youthful widowhood, no hardscrabble lives. Because they lived with the Savior back then, now they’ll live with him forevermore.

“If we live, we live to the Lord, and if we die, we die to the Lord. So then, whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord’s.” (Romans 14:8)

With or Without Vision

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One of the lastThis is one of the last pictures taken of Nate and me before we learned about his deadly diagnosis. I’m thankful for it, since it represents life before terminal cancer. Key word: represents, and an inaccurate representation at that. His life already did include cancer, and as I look at the picture today, I see it there.

Nate’s smile is not his own. Though he’s doing his best, his face can’t hide his physical pain. I didn’t notice it at the time, but today, in hindsight, I see it. Even his posture tells of something unusual going on by the stiff way he’s putting his arm around me, something that had always been easy.

I remember that picture-taking moment well. Relatives from North Carolina were visiting, and we’d just finished a lavish brunch at my sister and brother-in-law’s home. Even during the meal, Nate had had to get out of his chair and stand behind it to “take a break” from the back stress of sitting. “It feels better if I stand,” he had said. But a backache isn’t cancer, and we’d already known about that. After all, he was already scheduled for corrective spine surgery.

But hindsight is 20/20, and because I now know what we were about to learn then, I look at the picture and see it coming. But on picture-taking day, we were still blissfully ignorant of that life and death crisis, which in a sense left us standing in a place of blessing.

But what about the pictures that are being taken now, during these days? Not knowing what’s ahead, when I smile for a camera do I acknowledge that I’m currently standing in a place of blessing? Am I appreciating that I’m not in a life and death crisis today?

God has ongoing 20/20 vision both in hindsight and foresight. He sees the complete lifeline of everybody at all times rather than looking at each of us one way this year and another way the next. He has no regrets about what he has allowed to happen to each of us and can’t think of a single change he might have made to how he’s acted in the past. He doesn’t want to redo any decision he’s made and never thinks, “I wish I’d done such-and-such back then.”

In other words, he’s the complete opposite of us.

I’ll never have 20/20 vision toward the future like God does, but I can learn a few things through my 20/20 vision backwards. And what I’ve learned today from studying this picture is how important it is to acknowledge, in the here and now, that I’m standing in a place of blessing.

“Always be zealous for the fear of the Lord. There is surely a future hope for you.” (Proverbs 23:17-18)