For Crying Out Loud!
Sermon
Out From The Ordinary
First Lesson Sermons For Sundays After Pentecost (First Third)
My dog really wasn't much of a dog, but he was my dog. His name was Jack II. He was named after Jack I. Jack I was a magnificent seventy-pound solid white registered collie with whom I was reared until about age eight. Jack II was a pale comparison to Jack I. Jack II was brownish in color, not a pretty color, and had warts all over his mouth. He was just a mutt. To be honest with you, he was a little wild and at times he could be mean. There were times when even I was afraid of Jack II.
Kathy, our neighbor across the street, was also afraid of Jack. One day she was terrified because Jack was in her front yard. She interpreted that to mean that Jack would not let her off the front porch. Her parents called the dog pound. When the dog catcher arrived, they did not even try to catch Jack. They just shot him with a rifle while I watched. He ran to our backyard and died beside the garage. My family was going to town that Saturday morning, but I didn't feel much like going. My father, realizing the situation, said, "It's okay, son, you can just sit in the back seat." He knew I needed to cry for Jack II and to cry for myself.
A few years later our senior class was sponsoring a luncheon on Easter Sunday at the Sardis High School cafeteria to raise money for our class trip. Just as we were beginning to serve everyone, someone burst through the door and exclaimed, "Marcus and Pat have been killed!" Marcus was in the military and had just recently returned from the maiden voyage of the U.S.S. Enterprise. They had just found out that Pat was pregnant. Marcus and Pat were on their way to church when they were struck head-on by a drunken driver.
Marcus and Pat both had brothers in the senior class of which my wife to be, Sharlon, and I were members. That funeral and its grieving process was one of the most influencing factors on my young life. It was poignant to notice the way Pat's parents handled their grief. Pat's father was a deacon in the church my father-in-law served as pastor. My father-in-law conducted a double funeral. Before they left the home, Pat's father said, "May I have a word of prayer?" Then he proceeded to pray for the man who took the life of his daughter, son-in-law, and unborn grandchild. But the grieving process was more difficult for Pat's mother. After school I worked at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store and it was not uncommon months later to see her wandering down the aisle hardly noticing where she was because of the tears in her eyes. It is certain that different people handle grief in different ways.
David was ready to go! Anointed king of Israel many years before, now all the obstacles were removed. King Saul was dead. Jonathan, the rightful heir to the throne, also was dead. David was ready to claim the God-given destiny that was his. But, no! First, he stopped and called an entire nation to mourn for Saul and Jonathan. He called an entire nation to express grief for their fallen leaders. David knew that grieving was an important step in getting on with life. He led an entire nation in a lament. He taught the army and the people to sing it, to pray it, and to weep it. In doing so he reminded a nation and he reminds us that the expression of feelings is important for the progression of life. We need to express our grief in order to move on with living.
I have heard that women are more emotional than men, but women are more emotionally healthy. If that is true, it is possibly because they usually are more able to talk out their emotions or even cry them out. I remember as a young boy being told, "Don't cry! Be a man! Don't be a sissy!" It was as if the expression of emotions were a weakness or less than manly.
We don't talk very much about death today. Years ago no one talked about sex, but now everyone talks about sex and no one talks about death. We try to disguise death. We watch our fat grams. We do our exercises. We have our cosmetic surgery and much of this is good. Sometimes we joke and say, "Oh, I'm going to die at age 95, shot by a jealous husband." But as much as we try to camouflage it, the truth is we all live in a tent. Our bodies are losing their faculties more rapidly than we want. We all are on a journey through life and in the process of dying.
As we get older, we lose jobs, relationships, friends, and loved ones. Any time there is a loss there is a corresponding reaction called grief. But in many ways grief is our friend. Grief is a gift from God that allows us to express our emotions and feelings. Someone has said that grief is the price we pay because we love; but it is better to love and grieve than never to have loved at all. Grief is natural. Grief is okay. It is okay to cry. The expression of these words and feelings are vital to getting on with life and for the personal preparation for our own death.
Tom Thurman, a dear friend of mine, tells what he did when he began noticing that his father was aging rapidly. Each time he visited his father, he would sit in his lap, kiss his bald head and tell him how much he loved him. His father would respond. "Oh, leave me alone! Get out of here!" But you know that the father loved it. When his father died, don't you think Tom was glad he did that? The expression of our deepest feelings can be a vital preparation for death and a comfort to those experiencing grief.
The family huddles in the funeral home seeking refuge from the shock of the loss of a mother. Do they wish for the pastor to enter glibly spouting off pat theological answers to questions for which there are no real answers? Of course not! They probably wish he would just join the huddle with his presence and his own tears. Is there anything more important he could do?
David reminds us in our text that the outward expression of our grief -- to cry out loud -- is often necessary for the experience of grief and for getting on with life. But grief also gives to us a perspective on how to separate the things that matter from the things that do not.
David could have been angry, even resentful with Saul. Saul had hunted him and haunted him for years trying to take David's life! But in Saul's death David was able to move outside of himself, set aside his personal feelings of hostility, and open a heart of forgiveness to Saul. Instead of bitterness, David expressed honor, gratitude, forgiveness, and love. It can help us to dwell on the memories that are good.
Grief enables us to separate the significant from the marginal. I remember two families; one was able to work through its grief, while the other tragically was not. I performed the funeral of the mother for one family many years ago. The two sons, both wealthy, had a dispute over a small but sentimental piece of furniture. Their anger grew and they have not spoken to each other since. On the other hand, I saw a family that was able to forgive and love when the patriarch of the family died. The daughter and her husband were going through a divorce. But during the funeral process they were able to put aside their personal hurts, and the son-in-law actually took care of the funeral arrangements. Sometimes grief can enable us to get outside of ourselves and overcome grudges and resentment and experience grace and forgiveness. David never stood so tall as when he displayed this dynamic to an entire nation.
Our text also reminds us that it is important to some to express grief publicly. A couple of years ago when I was studying in Boston, I visited the John F. Kennedy Library and Museum. I was watching a black and white videotape of Walter Cronkite as he announced to the nation that its president was dead. After he made the announcement, he turned and choked back a tear. Walter Cronkite cried on public television! It was as if in that moment he expressed something that an entire nation wanted to say. That public display of grief may have expressed for some that which they could not express.
I wonder if we as a nation have dealt with the grief of Vietnam and the many thousands who were slain on both sides. Have we as a nation ever dealt publicly with that grief or the grief of the Gulf War? Have we ever publicly dealt with the grief of Oklahoma City? To publicly express our grief might be an important step in our healing that trials and sentences cannot accomplish.
One of the reasons David was able to become the most successful king in Israel's history was because he had the wisdom to allow himself and the people to cry. Read the lament again. It is a literary masterpiece. As we look at it closely, we see that it is not a prayer. There's no mention of God or Jesus or an afterlife. We must remember that David was not a Christian. He lived on the other side of Easter. But if David, in his limited knowledge, could effectively express grief, how much more effectively can grief be expressed through the Christian perspective? A Christian's grief can be so much more effective because we know Jesus. We know the story of the empty tomb. We know he lives and that we, too, shall live.
In 1979 Jimmy Carter began his bid for re-election as President of the United States in Tuscumbia, Alabama, where I served as pastor of the First Baptist Church. The rally was held at Spring Park. Seventy thousand crammed its boundaries. The most memorable thing about Carter's speech was the last three words, "We will win!" Not even the President of the United States can always guarantee victory; but God can, because he has already won the victory through Jesus our Lord. Jesus has already conquered death, hell, and the grave for us. Because he lives, we shall live also.
I once asked my friend and mentor, Dr. Fred Craddock, if he felt that Jesus had a governing metaphor for his ministry. He was quick to respond. He said, "I think that it could be that he preached that the very presence of God can live within you!" Jesus said in Matthew 4:17, "Repent, for the kingdom of God is now." The kingdom of God is now, today, not just then, but now! God's living Spirit, forgiveness, and grace can live in you now. Eternal life doesn't begin when we die. Eternal life begins when we accept Jesus Christ as Lord. It is now that we begin to live eternally. It is now that we claim the quality of life that is ours through Jesus Christ. It is now that we begin to know to live in the image of Christ.
Several years ago Merv Griffin had a group of bodybuilders on his television talk show. They were all pumped up and looking great! In their conversation Merv asked, "Tell me, what do you do with those muscles?" One by one they got up and started posing. He said, "No! No! Let me ask again. What do you do with those muscles?" Again they started posing. He said, "No! Read my lips, 'What do you do with all those muscles?' " It is a pertinent question. What are we doing with the life that is already ours through Jesus Christ?
Bernie Seigel said, "The worst thing is not dying. The worst thing is living life without love." In the movie Braveheart, William Wallace says that all men will truly die, but not all men will truly live. What are we doing with the love that is ours through Jesus Christ our Lord? What are we doing with the life that is ours through Jesus Christ our Lord?
Kathy, our neighbor across the street, was also afraid of Jack. One day she was terrified because Jack was in her front yard. She interpreted that to mean that Jack would not let her off the front porch. Her parents called the dog pound. When the dog catcher arrived, they did not even try to catch Jack. They just shot him with a rifle while I watched. He ran to our backyard and died beside the garage. My family was going to town that Saturday morning, but I didn't feel much like going. My father, realizing the situation, said, "It's okay, son, you can just sit in the back seat." He knew I needed to cry for Jack II and to cry for myself.
A few years later our senior class was sponsoring a luncheon on Easter Sunday at the Sardis High School cafeteria to raise money for our class trip. Just as we were beginning to serve everyone, someone burst through the door and exclaimed, "Marcus and Pat have been killed!" Marcus was in the military and had just recently returned from the maiden voyage of the U.S.S. Enterprise. They had just found out that Pat was pregnant. Marcus and Pat were on their way to church when they were struck head-on by a drunken driver.
Marcus and Pat both had brothers in the senior class of which my wife to be, Sharlon, and I were members. That funeral and its grieving process was one of the most influencing factors on my young life. It was poignant to notice the way Pat's parents handled their grief. Pat's father was a deacon in the church my father-in-law served as pastor. My father-in-law conducted a double funeral. Before they left the home, Pat's father said, "May I have a word of prayer?" Then he proceeded to pray for the man who took the life of his daughter, son-in-law, and unborn grandchild. But the grieving process was more difficult for Pat's mother. After school I worked at the Piggly Wiggly grocery store and it was not uncommon months later to see her wandering down the aisle hardly noticing where she was because of the tears in her eyes. It is certain that different people handle grief in different ways.
David was ready to go! Anointed king of Israel many years before, now all the obstacles were removed. King Saul was dead. Jonathan, the rightful heir to the throne, also was dead. David was ready to claim the God-given destiny that was his. But, no! First, he stopped and called an entire nation to mourn for Saul and Jonathan. He called an entire nation to express grief for their fallen leaders. David knew that grieving was an important step in getting on with life. He led an entire nation in a lament. He taught the army and the people to sing it, to pray it, and to weep it. In doing so he reminded a nation and he reminds us that the expression of feelings is important for the progression of life. We need to express our grief in order to move on with living.
I have heard that women are more emotional than men, but women are more emotionally healthy. If that is true, it is possibly because they usually are more able to talk out their emotions or even cry them out. I remember as a young boy being told, "Don't cry! Be a man! Don't be a sissy!" It was as if the expression of emotions were a weakness or less than manly.
We don't talk very much about death today. Years ago no one talked about sex, but now everyone talks about sex and no one talks about death. We try to disguise death. We watch our fat grams. We do our exercises. We have our cosmetic surgery and much of this is good. Sometimes we joke and say, "Oh, I'm going to die at age 95, shot by a jealous husband." But as much as we try to camouflage it, the truth is we all live in a tent. Our bodies are losing their faculties more rapidly than we want. We all are on a journey through life and in the process of dying.
As we get older, we lose jobs, relationships, friends, and loved ones. Any time there is a loss there is a corresponding reaction called grief. But in many ways grief is our friend. Grief is a gift from God that allows us to express our emotions and feelings. Someone has said that grief is the price we pay because we love; but it is better to love and grieve than never to have loved at all. Grief is natural. Grief is okay. It is okay to cry. The expression of these words and feelings are vital to getting on with life and for the personal preparation for our own death.
Tom Thurman, a dear friend of mine, tells what he did when he began noticing that his father was aging rapidly. Each time he visited his father, he would sit in his lap, kiss his bald head and tell him how much he loved him. His father would respond. "Oh, leave me alone! Get out of here!" But you know that the father loved it. When his father died, don't you think Tom was glad he did that? The expression of our deepest feelings can be a vital preparation for death and a comfort to those experiencing grief.
The family huddles in the funeral home seeking refuge from the shock of the loss of a mother. Do they wish for the pastor to enter glibly spouting off pat theological answers to questions for which there are no real answers? Of course not! They probably wish he would just join the huddle with his presence and his own tears. Is there anything more important he could do?
David reminds us in our text that the outward expression of our grief -- to cry out loud -- is often necessary for the experience of grief and for getting on with life. But grief also gives to us a perspective on how to separate the things that matter from the things that do not.
David could have been angry, even resentful with Saul. Saul had hunted him and haunted him for years trying to take David's life! But in Saul's death David was able to move outside of himself, set aside his personal feelings of hostility, and open a heart of forgiveness to Saul. Instead of bitterness, David expressed honor, gratitude, forgiveness, and love. It can help us to dwell on the memories that are good.
Grief enables us to separate the significant from the marginal. I remember two families; one was able to work through its grief, while the other tragically was not. I performed the funeral of the mother for one family many years ago. The two sons, both wealthy, had a dispute over a small but sentimental piece of furniture. Their anger grew and they have not spoken to each other since. On the other hand, I saw a family that was able to forgive and love when the patriarch of the family died. The daughter and her husband were going through a divorce. But during the funeral process they were able to put aside their personal hurts, and the son-in-law actually took care of the funeral arrangements. Sometimes grief can enable us to get outside of ourselves and overcome grudges and resentment and experience grace and forgiveness. David never stood so tall as when he displayed this dynamic to an entire nation.
Our text also reminds us that it is important to some to express grief publicly. A couple of years ago when I was studying in Boston, I visited the John F. Kennedy Library and Museum. I was watching a black and white videotape of Walter Cronkite as he announced to the nation that its president was dead. After he made the announcement, he turned and choked back a tear. Walter Cronkite cried on public television! It was as if in that moment he expressed something that an entire nation wanted to say. That public display of grief may have expressed for some that which they could not express.
I wonder if we as a nation have dealt with the grief of Vietnam and the many thousands who were slain on both sides. Have we as a nation ever dealt publicly with that grief or the grief of the Gulf War? Have we ever publicly dealt with the grief of Oklahoma City? To publicly express our grief might be an important step in our healing that trials and sentences cannot accomplish.
One of the reasons David was able to become the most successful king in Israel's history was because he had the wisdom to allow himself and the people to cry. Read the lament again. It is a literary masterpiece. As we look at it closely, we see that it is not a prayer. There's no mention of God or Jesus or an afterlife. We must remember that David was not a Christian. He lived on the other side of Easter. But if David, in his limited knowledge, could effectively express grief, how much more effectively can grief be expressed through the Christian perspective? A Christian's grief can be so much more effective because we know Jesus. We know the story of the empty tomb. We know he lives and that we, too, shall live.
In 1979 Jimmy Carter began his bid for re-election as President of the United States in Tuscumbia, Alabama, where I served as pastor of the First Baptist Church. The rally was held at Spring Park. Seventy thousand crammed its boundaries. The most memorable thing about Carter's speech was the last three words, "We will win!" Not even the President of the United States can always guarantee victory; but God can, because he has already won the victory through Jesus our Lord. Jesus has already conquered death, hell, and the grave for us. Because he lives, we shall live also.
I once asked my friend and mentor, Dr. Fred Craddock, if he felt that Jesus had a governing metaphor for his ministry. He was quick to respond. He said, "I think that it could be that he preached that the very presence of God can live within you!" Jesus said in Matthew 4:17, "Repent, for the kingdom of God is now." The kingdom of God is now, today, not just then, but now! God's living Spirit, forgiveness, and grace can live in you now. Eternal life doesn't begin when we die. Eternal life begins when we accept Jesus Christ as Lord. It is now that we begin to live eternally. It is now that we claim the quality of life that is ours through Jesus Christ. It is now that we begin to know to live in the image of Christ.
Several years ago Merv Griffin had a group of bodybuilders on his television talk show. They were all pumped up and looking great! In their conversation Merv asked, "Tell me, what do you do with those muscles?" One by one they got up and started posing. He said, "No! No! Let me ask again. What do you do with those muscles?" Again they started posing. He said, "No! Read my lips, 'What do you do with all those muscles?' " It is a pertinent question. What are we doing with the life that is already ours through Jesus Christ?
Bernie Seigel said, "The worst thing is not dying. The worst thing is living life without love." In the movie Braveheart, William Wallace says that all men will truly die, but not all men will truly live. What are we doing with the love that is ours through Jesus Christ our Lord? What are we doing with the life that is ours through Jesus Christ our Lord?
