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THE GOD WHO CRIES AT FUNERALS #2

BAD NEWS FOR JOHN-JOHN, GOOD NEWS FOR JESUS

Certainly one of the most colorful characters in United States history — and other countries share a vested interest in him — would be the incomparable Ben Franklin. Known for many more things than his Poor Richard's Almanac and his electric kite, this unique man was crucial in helping to forge the miracle of democratic government and, of course, the liberty of this fledgling nation in the New World.

But the thing I want for us to notice today is this. On two separate occasions, Mr. Benjamin Franklin departed from his Philadelphia home and sailed to England on diplomatic missions. In 1757 he went as a kind of ambassador for the Pennsylvania people, representing the colony in matters like taxation. He was there for a full five years, returning home in 1762. Then just two years later, in 1764 — get this — he went back to London again, and this time he was there for ELEVEN years, trying to broker a peace and stave off a Revolutionary War. Unfortunately, or fortunately, as you may look at it, there was just no stopping these events. He arrived back home in Philadelphia on May 5, 1775, and found out that the battles of Lexington and Concord had already been fought.

But I think of those two stints away from home: five years and then 11 more. Now, I don't know if his teen sweetheart and wife, Deborah Read, went with him on either of these trips. But there were certainly times when Franklin and other heroes of the American revolution were away from wives and children and friends for long years at a time. The Atlantic Ocean was a cold, wet barrier to love and friendship, with very little mail going in either direction, and not too many satellite cell phones or those red telephone booths you see all over London today. And these great ambassadors had to experience tremendous loneliness, as the solitary months and years trickled past without much word from those they loved. I'm sure the wives in America and the husbands over in foggy London had to both shed tears on many occasions.

Well, today we think about the tears of another ambassador. The Bible describes the tears of Jesus, who wept at funerals, and who cried over rebellious cities. Even Christ, the Resurrection and the Life, felt grief when friends died. But for a moment, let's think in terms of one of those Ben Franklin trips which lasted 11 years. Because here was a Man who had a family too; Jesus had a heavenly Father and angels and holy beings who loved Him. I have to believe that they missed Him, and that He missed them in return. And friend, 33 years apart is a long time. Was Jesus enough like us that He got lonely for heaven? Did He miss His Dad? Ever since the age of 12, there in the temple in Jerusalem, this unique Boy named Jesus knew that He had a heavenly Father, and that He needed to be about THAT Father's business. Now after 33 years of separation, did Christ ever feel loneliness?

But let me turn the question around and ask it in a direction that is probably more interesting to us. How does Jesus feel NOW — up in heaven, trillions of miles removed from us — about His separation from US? Does He miss the human race? Does He long for the reunion? When He said goodbye in Acts chapter one to His eleven faithful disciples, and to His other friends and followers — and to His own MOM — and ascended to heaven, did His heart break just as theirs did?

Well, of course the answer would have to be yes. If Jesus grieved, as we read last time in John 11:35, over a very brief separation between Him and His friend Lazarus, how does He feel about the gulf that exists today?

I guess we all can take at full face value His wonderful words expressed in the last book of the Bible, Revelation 22. Three times He says: "Behold, I am coming soon!" Friend, if we're longing for the Second Coming, just imagine how HE feels! The same God who could weep at funerals is even more wistfully and eagerly anticipating the reunion He'll enjoy with each of His redeemed children.

But now let me ask a second, Ben Franklin-type question. And it forces us to address a vital Bible doctrine, so I approach it with great caution and humility. So I ask here: how does God feel today, right now, about our Christian funerals? When we say goodbye at the cemetery and are weeping, filled with grief, does God join us in that grief, just as Jesus did at the funeral of Lazarus?

A couple of anecdotes come to mind here. Maybe you've read the wrenching story going back to November 22, 1963. And of course, here in America, almost every citizen of the nation knew, 99.8% of us, along with most of the world, that President John F. Kennedy had been killed by a sniper's bullet. I knew and you knew and within minutes, it seems, we all knew. Except for two small children who didn't know. Caroline and John, Jr. — John-John — had not been told. Jackie, of course, was on her way back to Washington, D.C. on Air Force One with the body of the President in a coffin. She couldn't do it. And finally it fell to the children's White House nurse, Miss Shaw, to break the news to the kids. One at a time. And very carefully, with her heart breaking, the nanny took six-year-old Caroline on her lap and explained that a bad man had shot her daddy. The doctors had tried to make him better, but had failed. And then she put it like this: "Your daddy went up to heaven to be with Patrick." The Kennedys, you remember, had lost a son at childbirth back in August. "Patrick needed your daddy so bad, and now he's with him."

Here's anecdote #2, and this comes from a book I haven't read yet, entitled Letters From Heaven. A wonderful hope-filled volume, I'm sure, but the one blurb in the mailing advertisement has a letter from heaven which begins like this:

"Dear child of God, Today we welcomed your father into heaven! I wish you could have seen his look of wonder and joy. Still, I know how deeply grieved you and your mother are at this time."

And friend, these anecdotes seem to tell us that while our hearts are heavy with grief here on earth, heaven is in the opposite mode — one of celebration. What is parting for us is reunion for heaven. We cry and God laughs. We are shedding tears, but Jesus, up in heaven, is not shedding tears because the soul of the one we miss is immediately up there with Him.

Now friend, I have to proceed for these next moments with such respect for the beliefs each of us bring to this study time. I honor your Bible convictions; I praise God for what you may have studied or how you might have been taught. But allow me to suggest — just prayerfully suggest — that the Bible's teachings don't paint a picture of grief here, and joy there. Or that our separation is heaven's reunion.

And let's stay right here in this Lazarus story: John 11. Jesus doesn't say to His disciples: "Lazarus has died and gone to heaven." No, He simply remarks: "Lazarus has gone to sleep, and I'm going to wake him up." And after His wonderful, life-giving prayer, after the miracle, which you find in verses 43 and 44, does Lazarus come out of the tomb and give a report of four days in Paradise? Has he been to a homecoming celebration in heaven? If so, he misses a golden opportunity to give Mary and Martha and the news reporters all the details about streets of gold. No, Jesus says very simply: "Take off the grave clothes and let him go." And it seems very clear that Lazarus was simply sleeping, unconscious in the grave, for those four days.

Go with me to First Thessalonians four, which is the clearest teaching we can find about death and tears. Jesus will come down from heaven with a shout, we read in verse 16. That's the Second Coming, of course, a future event. Not TOO future, we all hope. Those who are alive then will rise up, be lifted off this death-scarred old world. But FIRST, notice in verse 16, the dead in Christ will rise. The dead rise FIRST. When? At the Second Coming. All this time they've been sleeping in the grave. And Paul says with absolute clarity that they — and us too — will MEET the Lord in the air. We've missed each other so much, but now, at long last, we meet. If someone you love has died, friend, the Bible says they will meet Jesus on that wonderful day, the same as you. Not before. Not at the moment of death. No, we all meet Jesus at the very same moment.

Now, I fully acknowledge that there are other verses to consider, and our time is gone. But if this scenario is true, what does it mean? Friend, it means that when we grieve at funerals because we miss someone, Jesus misses them too! When we cry in our loneliness, He too sheds tears. We're deprived of that laugh, that wonderful friendship, that personality, that loved one . . . and so is He! He has the same Ben Franklin wistfulness we do: the memories, the mementos of happier times gone by, and the INTENSITY of longing for the morning when sailing ships or cemeteries will never again take a loved one away.

In this wonderful Lazarus story, we find a God who is touched when we are touched. He cries when we cry. And friend, someday soon, we all WILL celebrate in unison.