These words of wisdom were written to me in a Facebook comment many years ago, and they changed my life. I was upset about something - I can't even recall what now - and had expressed my guilt at feeling upset. Then my cousin came out with this. It resonated because guilt was, at the time, a common reaction to my own emotions. Can you relate?
"I know I shouldn't feel so upset about this, but I do..."
"I know there are others out there who have it way worse than me, but I'm still devastated..."
Just yesterday one of our neighbours told us he was car-jacked a couple of weeks ago by saying, "I was lucky really," because they didn't physically injure him. His sense of gratitude is admirable. Nevertheless, car-jacking is wrong and traumatic and that is something it's okay, nay necessary, to acknowledge.
Then there's our reaction to other people's sadness. "Chin up!" we say (especially in Yorkshire) when someone's having a down day for perfectly legitimate reasons.
"At least..."
"But just think of the silver lining..."
"You can't think negatively..."
"Stay positive!"
"Don't be upset..."
"It'll be fine!"
I've been on the receiving end of these a fair few times, as I'm sure all of you have too. And we've probably been the ones to utter these words too, that squirming discomfort inside us giving birth to a trite phrase when we witness someone's tears.
Why are we so uncomfortable with sadness and hurt?
The reality of pain in the world is one that none of us question. We don't labour under the illusion that life is perfect and the only emotions we experience are happiness and fulfilment, so why do we so often try and bat away sadness in a futile attempt to push it away, push it down, push it out of sight, that only leaves us mentally and emotionally contorted and guilty?
No one can deny we are living through difficult times. We are all in an unnatural situation - deprived of human comfort and connection, living in fear of the disease and of loved ones dying, many without food on the table and with children trapped in a tiny space at home with no outside access. Times are hard. It's also a time when many are feeling guilty for finding it hard because they have the sense that others are worse off. We desperately need to learn how to readily acknowledge and meet our own sadness and that of our communities, not with a glib platitude but with truth and compassion.
The Bible has a lot to say about sadness. Back in Genesis 6:6, not long after God had created the world, it was already messed up enough that "his heart was filled with pain". The same God, come to earth as the man Jesus, is found weeping by the grave of his friend Lazarus in John 11:35.
God is all-knowing. There is no bad news that can catch him by surprise.
God is perfect. He cannot sin in his grief.
God is all-powerful. There is no wrong he cannot right.
But God still weeps. He still grieves. His heart is still filled with pain.
This tells us that pain in itself is not an indication of our feelings being mis-directed. Sadness in itself is not a symptom of us being selfish, or ungrateful, or controlling (more on this in a future blog). Because it is possible for the almighty God, who can calm a storm with a word and who is sovereign over every atom in this universe, to grieve.
When Jesus wept at Lazarus' grave, he knew he was going to raise him from the dead. He knew that Lazarus would be 'reclining at the table' with him just one chapter later. Yet he still weeps. He weeps at the grief of his friends and he weeps at the sheer abhorrence of death in the world He made.
Would you have told Jesus to think positive, offered the cold comfort that at least Lazarus died with his family by his side? Told Jesus he'd gone to a better place? Or pointed out that Jesus himself had the power to raise him from the dead so why didn't he just get on with it?
If the man who possessed the power to undo death stopped and let his tears fall to the ground for his dead friend and the broken world around him, then we can too. We don't have to talk ourselves out of our pain. We can let ourselves grieve and know we are in good company.
We find sadness uncomfortable because it is not what our bodies were made for. We were designed to live in perfect relationship with our creator God, in harmony with the earth we inhabit and with each other. But that's been messed up. Our natural state is now at loggerheads with our Creator, our planet and each other. A glimpse at a daily newspaper provides ample evidence for that. And so sadness and pain and death have entered the human experience and they feel plain wrong.
But just like every other symptom of a sin-sick world we encounter, we mustn't try and explain away the hurt and pain but instead view it through a Gospel lens, seeing it through biblical eyes because they are the only eyes that can truly make sense of life.
So what does the Bible say about sadness?
1) We grieve, but not as those who have no hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13)
Our grief is real - it is a part of life - but it is not hopeless. Our grief is always shot through with the sure hope of our eternal life in Jesus, who will come back again.
2) Our pain is always underpinned by joy and thankfulness (1 Thessalonians 5:16)
There is a deep, unshakeable joy that springs from our salvation and the promise of eternal life that cannot be moved by even this world's strongest assaults. Our souls are saved; our bodies may be wracked with pain, but our souls are forever safe, stamped with God's image, bought by Christ's death and resurrection and sealed with the guarantee of the Holy Spirit.
3) We are not alone in our sadness (2 Corinthians 1:7)
Paul writes, "...we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort." Human beings are designed to live in community, and the church of Jesus Christ is no different. We are not called to suffer alone; we are called to share each other's burdens and joys. Humanly speaking, we know this helps - it helps both the giver and receiver of comfort.
4) Sadness is not permanent (Revelation 21)
Sadness is not a problem to be solved - yet. Jesus wept at Lazarus' grave, yes for Lazarus and his bereft sisters, but surely also because he was faced with the bitter foretaste of his own imminent death on the cross. Jesus willingly went to his death, in order to buy our souls back from our brokenness and win a permanent victory against sin and death and pain for all time. This act was God's first instalment of "righting the wrong" in our world. The second instalment, after Jesus returns, is found in Revelation 21 which tells us "God himself will be with them and be their God. He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."
5) Our trials are achieving for us an eternal glory (2 Corinthians 4:17)
Paul says that we don't lose heart because although outwardly we are 'wasting away', inwardly we are being 'renewed day by day'. The devastation wreaked on our planet and our lives by sin and all its ugliness only serves to lift our eyes towards our eternal home. When we are wracked with grief, we see all the more clearly the world to come that is free of grief. When we are filled with pain, we look to Jesus who took all the pain of his people upon himself so we have a place in a pain-free heaven. How we endure our trials refines us, makes us more Christ-like and pushes us further into the unending well of love and comfort we find in our Father God.
If this is what the Bible has to say about sadness, we can seriously up our game when it comes to how we meet it in ourselves and our loved ones. A trite "chin up" just won't cut it because the struggle is devastatingly real. Instead, we can acknowledge that our sadness is real and legitimate because God himself grieves over our broken world. We can share it with others, knowing that we comfort each other. We lift our eyes to the new creation to come and encourage each other that our biggest problem, sin, has been taken away by Jesus and our souls are safe. We can look to Scripture to see that every shed tear and hurt heart is a signpost towards our perfect, loving Father and the joy-filled eternal home he has prepared for us. It might not come easy, as most worthwhile endeavours do not, but it will be worth it.
