July
27th is not a welcome day in our house. So much about this time of year-- whether the
length of the long summer days, the sunshine, the humidity, and even the
relative calm of a mid-summer schedule, bring back memories we wish we could
escape. It was on this date in 2009 that our son Micah, a happy little 9-month
old boy, died as a result of a confluence of events. Many people in grief, or
who have endured great suffering, are said to “live in the past.” Because
current circumstances create such pain in their lives, some people who have
endured great hardship try to avoid current circumstances and hold on to
everything about the past that provided them joy. In that vein, we might look back at a particular
event and consider its worth, to us, based only upon the joy or usefulness it
brought to us in that particular moment.
For the nine years that have past since that awful July day in 2009, we
have come to painfully associate the attributes of a midsummer day in Minnesota
with the memories of our son’s death.
But God does not view
history the way we do. God is working
out our redemption through our framework of time. In his book, A
Grace Revealed, theologian Jerry Sittser describes the importance of using
“redemptive memory” so that we can be encouraged by how God is using our
history to shape us. Sittser writes, “We
see the scope of the biblical story unfold before us, situated, as we are, some
two thousand years after it ended. But
the characters we read about did not have the vantage point we have not because
they were inside the story. They chose
to trust God and follow him into an unknown future, however slim the evidence
of a bigger story that could make sense out of their little ones.”
I want to offer three observations about how I
have struggled with having a “redemptive memory” related to my own grief.
·
Embrace
Our Temporality. First, while God is above and outside time, God
fully expects us, as temporal beings, to only be able to comprehend life
sequentially. Joe Rigney writes that our
temporality is not sinful; that it is at the essence of who were created to be,
and who we will be for all eternity. The
author of Hebrews writes, “These [the patriarchs] all died in faith, not having
received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar,
and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” Hebrews
11:13. To believe we can possibly understand all of the purposes that God
has achieved in our suffering is to misunderstand our temporality. But God is
calling us, nonetheless, to trust that He is using time as a key ingredient in
the recipe he created for our sanctification and His own glorification.
·
Patiently
Bear the Sufferings of Others. Second, we must patiently bear patiently
with others as God works in their lives, in His time, just as He works in us,
in His time. The Apostles rejoiced in
having suffered for His name, and that they bore each others’ burdens and
shared everything in common. Acts 5:41. We
as members of Christ’s body are called to suffer with one another, and to
encourage one another. God’s
multivariable calculus is such that, with regard to any one particular source
of grief or suffering, He might be using the suffering in one matter for one
purpose, for a second person for a second purpose, and to a third person, at an
altogether different point in time, for a third purpose. Heather and I have been so blessed by those in
the Body of Christ who, having endured a similar type of suffering at a time
well before our own suffering, are able to speak words of truth and
encouragement to us at the point in time when it was most needed. As members of the Body of Christ, we are
called to share our sufferings with others, as well as our encouragement,
knowing that God can work both suffering and encouragement together for our
common good. 2
Corinthians 1:6.
·
Live
in the Joy & Suffering Paradox. Third, we are called to live in a joy and
suffering paradox. We are admonished to respond
in
joy to what God is doing in our lives in light of all eternity. James
writes, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various
kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness …”
James 1:2-4. But even while living in
joy in our eternal future, we can take great solace in how Jesus showed us how
to embrace the grief of temporal suffering.
In John 11, we read that Jesus was so moved by the death of his friend
Lazarus that, even with the knowledge of how He would shortly raise Lazarus to
life, Jesus embraced the grief with his own tears. While God is above and outside of time, he is
somehow also in it, and can commiserate with us now, in our own grief. We can therefore live in an ongoing and
continually paradox of emotions—with both great grief in earthly loss, and yet
great joy in the hope of the coming redemption of all things, including our
greatest of sufferings. As Paul says in
2 Corinthians 6:10, we are “…as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”
The great news of the gospel is, among many other things,
that we are part of the larger redemptive story and that no one event, however,
tragic, can and should define us. The cross, in itself, is the most
egregious event every perpetrated on another human. But the
testimonies of millions of believers across the span of two thousand years,
including our very own, demonstrate that the legacy of the Cross is not just
the unjust sentence, torture, and death endured by God. It is the
redemption of those who are called by God.
In our case, the idea of “redemptive memory” does not mean that we should try to forget the great grief. We think of how Micah died and how if in any one of a number of things would have gone differently, he would still be with us today. But at the same time, it is far too early for me to write a definitive account of Micah’s life and legacy. The way in which Micah died cannot be viewed as a self-contained event having meaning within itself. It must be viewed along with the various and numerous grace-filled blessings that have arisen in our lives by reason of it. Just as the Cross of Christ cannot be viewed outside of its redemptive impact on human history, so also we should view our sufferings in light of what God has done, and continues to do, by reason of our son’s death.
In our case, the idea of “redemptive memory” does not mean that we should try to forget the great grief. We think of how Micah died and how if in any one of a number of things would have gone differently, he would still be with us today. But at the same time, it is far too early for me to write a definitive account of Micah’s life and legacy. The way in which Micah died cannot be viewed as a self-contained event having meaning within itself. It must be viewed along with the various and numerous grace-filled blessings that have arisen in our lives by reason of it. Just as the Cross of Christ cannot be viewed outside of its redemptive impact on human history, so also we should view our sufferings in light of what God has done, and continues to do, by reason of our son’s death.
