Oak Chapel United Methodist Church

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A person's life is sometimes measured in years, sometimes in tears. We are crying from our mothers' wombs, and for some (it seems) the crying never stops. Some, in fact, are born with their sadnesses, with limitations of body and mind that may rob them of a full and happy life. "Your baby will never walk, Mrs. Jones." "I'm sorry to tell you this folks, but mentally little Johnny will never get past two years old." Born without sight, without arms or legs, with some congenital illness. Plenty of room for weeping. Others, not born to sorrow, find it soon enough. Parents who have checked out. Violence in the home. Impossible expectations. Family secrets to hide. Plenty of room for weeping. Then there are the tears that flow later: bitter disappointment in love, the early loss of a parent, a marriage that fails, a child that doesn't turn out as we had hoped. A spouse that dies. Yes, you can measure people's lives in tears. Plenty of room for weeping. Sometimes, when things get really bad, people weep on the outside. More often they weep within.

 

God Knows our Sadness and Remembers our Pain

Using a beautiful word-picture, the Book of Psalms tells us that God keeps all our tears "in his bottle." That is the Old Testament's way of saying that God knows about our sadness and remembers our pain. But, for consolation, nothing in God's Word compares to this morning's lesson, from the Book of Revelation. At this point in the author's vision time has come to an end. History is over. The fat lady has sung. He sees the whole family of God, dressed in white robes and waving palm branches, singing God's praise around his heavenly throne. "Who are these people," he asks one of the heavenly elders? "They are the martyrs," those who have come out of the great ordeal. "Their robes are washed white in the blood of the Lamb," the old man adds. And then, in the words of our funeral service (the same words, incidentally, which the chaplain recites to the passengers, in the movie, "Titanic," as the great ship goes down), the heavenly elder adds, "They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away all tears from their eyes."

 

Some People Seem Disconsolate

We speak often today of things being "dysfunctional" -- unable to function. There is an old hymn that speaks of people who are "disconsolate" -- unable to be consoled. People whom sadness overwhelms. For whom no earthly remedy brings relief. Whom only the great promises of God can assuage. Communion is for such people.
 

Come ye disconsolate, where're ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish.
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.

Here see the bread of life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come ever knowing
Earth has no sorrows but heaven can remove.
 

Communion is Especially for Those Overwhelmed by Tears

Communion is a last-ditch thing to do. It is for everyone, of course, but it is especially for those whose tears have overwhelmed them. Here we come, miserable, to our own upper rooms, knowing that the powers of evil have won (at least, for a time), and our Master -- who is the only good we know -- will be killed and taken from us (at least, for a time). Like the aging relative who ruins Christmas dinner by saying, "I guess I won't be with you next Christmas," Jesus ruins Passover by telling his disciples that he will soon die, and how he will die -- by the treachery of one of them. And then, when hope has reached bottom, he does this last-ditch thing: holds out to them the bread and wine, "my body", "my blood" -- "broken", "poured out" -- "for you and for many" -- "forgiveness of sins." "A new covenant." New hope.

Inside tears are more bitter, more toxic, than those that flow for all to see. If we are crying inside about abuse others have heaped on us, or abuse we have heaped upon ourselves (it doesn't matter), know that God wipes away all tears.
 

God Will Wipe Away Your Tears

There is an antidote for the poison of sadness, depression and despair. It is hope in the promises of God. That is why communion is so popular, I suppose, why it is still received gratefully by millions after all these years! It is hope in a hopeless world. It is the wiping away of tears. It is God kissing our hurt to make it better. It is our Father's love in bread and wine.