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For those out in blogland that did not know, Hope's great grandfather passed away this past week and she and I have driven to North Carolina for the funeral. I must tell you, it was quiet amazing. It's been a while since I've seen people at a funeral shouting and speaking in tongues... but I saw it here. I must say, it was quiet a beautiful experience to be a part of too. It was life at the convergence of joy and pain. After thinking about this for a while, I was reminded of a previous thought which I posted on a message board. I thought I would post it on this blog as well, just for some additional feedback. Please, keep in mind, this post was conceived several months ago... and I am copying it on here without edit... if you would like a copy of the comments from the website, email me.
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So, I'm driving home today, thinking about Nic's question on another post. What does it mean to live? Or, in other words which I was using, how do we know we are alive? Now, what follows is not intended to be an exhaustive reply, or even anything close. It sounds very fatalistic and depressing, even. I just pray that everyone will bear with me.
It seems to me that to live means to experience pain, hurt, suffering and even death. When else are we more aware of our existence than we we are in pain? This includes, but is certainly not limited to, physical pain (I'm sure everyone is aware they are alive when they stub their toe.). I know you might be thinking, what about joy? But i must ask, how do you know joy without first knowing pain? It is the pain that proves the joy, or in other words, its the shadow that proves the sunshine. If you haven't experienced the shadow, then perhaps you do not know what I am talking about. But if you have, if you lived life in the midst of the shadow of death, you know exactly what I'm saying. Think about the incarnation. What is so amazing about the incarnate God living among us? What do we see Jesus experiencing in the gospels? Joy or pain? The metaphor for nearly all followers of Jesus is the cross, an emblem of suffering and shame. Why isn't it something that symbolizes joy and happiness? Because those were not the kind of people Jesus hung out with? It was these who "got" Jesus. Nicodemus just fades away, leaving us unsure whether he ever "got" Jesus. Yet when we look at other characters, like the women at the well who was so ashamed of her life that she went to the well at a time when she was sure no one else would be there, she got it. Why? Could it be that she knew pain, and therefore, she could "get" Jesus? Who, in the Gospel of John, just can't shut up about Jesus? And this leads to my next thought.
What does Jesus offer, in this life of suffering, pain, hurt and even death? It seems to me that Jesus tells us that while this life is characterized by these things, they do not have the last word. Death does not have the last word on life. Pain will not be the ultimate destiny of our existence. There is coming a day when there will be no more tears, because the one who suffered ultimate shame and pain will wipe those tears from our eyes, telling us to cry no more forever. (This is not to say that those hands will be scarless... its not that our pain is erased or forgotten, but overcome) The kingdom, filled with those who (with Jesus) experienced pain, hurth and death, will be a place characterized now by the life of God, a life which shatters all the previous pain. That kingdom is available even now, as we hope for that which is unseen we can receive a foretaste of the life that will overwhelm us then. This, then, propels us into the world of pain and death, not as escapists who are only looking for a "there after" but as those who have experienced this life after death. Its the same spirit that propeled Jesus into this world, even to suffer and hurt, and it is the same spirit that draws us into the world, to continue the mission of Jesus.
