Dear Rose Park,
One of my favorite authors is C.S Lewis. Lewis wrote in a variety of genres. He had theological works, children’s stories, and even science fiction on his resume. One book in particular that I’ve found helpful in ministry is entitled, “On Grief.” In this work, he reflects on the death of his wife Helen. He writes, “I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me”… “And no one ever told me about the laziness of grief…Not only writing but even reading a letter is too much. Even shaving. What does it matter now whether my cheek is rough or smooth? They say an unhappy man wants distractions - something to take him out of himself. Only as a dog-tired man wants an extra blanket on a cold night; he’d rather lie there shivering than get up and find one.”
I’d imagine many of us can empathize with Lewis. Many of us know this feeling of grief and the dread that comes when the house is empty. In a similar way, I feel this grief when I see the emptiness of our sanctuary. I’m overjoyed to be able to see you all on Sunday mornings on the lawn and in the parking lot, but it also feels as if something is still missing. It’s almost as if the sanctuary is another member of the body; I keep looking for her on Sunday mornings and wonder whether she’ll come in and sit down.
In another way, I feel this grief with the loss of plans. It was my hope, in this first year of ministry at Rose Park, to spend more time with you. I hoped to invite you over for dinner. I hoped to have coffee in your kitchen. I hoped to see you at the Little League baseball game. I hoped to serve at your side at vacation bible school. I grieve the loss of those plans; I’d imagine there are plans that your grieving as well. Perhaps it’s a graduation party, a wedding that’s now been rescheduled, an anniversary trip to Europe, or a family reunion. Like Lewis, when we see the emptiness of the house it seems as if grief becomes a bit heavier.
However, while we grieve we must be reminded of Paul’s encouragement to the Thessalonians. Paul writes, “we do not grieve as others do, who have no hope.” It is healthy and natural to grieve our losses, however as followers of Jesus we do not grieve as those who have no hope grieve. We grieve and yet cling to hope. So, I am clinging to hope even when I see the emptiness of our sanctuary. I cling to hope that we’ll gather for dinner. I cling to hope that you’ll stop by and have coffee. I cling to hope that you’ll be able to gather for your reunion, wedding, anniversary, and birthday.
And I cling to hope that though the house might be empty, we are not.
Grace & Peace,
Pastor Mark