“Remind the people… to be obedient, to be ready to do whatever is good, to slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate, and always to be gentle toward everyone.” (Titus 3:1-2 NIV)
For five days now, we have been grieving. Christmas has come and gone, but the aching place in our hearts has not yet felt alleviation. As we wait on plans outside our hands, we might flare up with one another. When everyone is wounded, everyone is sensitive. I still remember the maimed deer on my drive to church years ago. Wounded frames are so consumed with their hurt that they can’t hardly see the world around them. They may, unwittingly, cause crashes.
You’ve probably already come to this conclusion, but my brother was a challenging character. He was charming but manipulative. Delightful and devious. Brilliant and unopposed. He was a Tony-Stark-like presence: he loved you but at the end of the day he was going to take care of Number One. He always did.
Living like a hotshot leaves a lot of wreckage. You were really important to Chris as long as you served his purposes, and then you weren’t. And my brother couldn’t just leave the old bridge of relationship standing, he had to throw a molotov cocktail on the structure. I don’t say all this as slander, this is just who he was. As a result, there is lot of carnage surrounding the loss of my brother: for me and Rob, my kids, his friends and caregivers, his ex-wife and their children. There is enough hurt to go around. Loving Chris was never easy, letting him go won’t be, either. We are all trying to make sense of our part of the story.
This morning all these complicated relationships were heavy on my heart. And then I remembered a private message I received i the first few minutes after Chris passed. A long-time pastor friend of mine (we served at youth camp together in the 90’s) had sent a Star Wars something because he knows us well. I responded with an urgent prayer request knowing I could trust him to take it right into the throne room. He responded almost immediately:
“Please be gentle with each other as nerves are raw.”
Such wise words from a man who has lived a lifetime with loss. His son (my peer) passed away in an apartment arson two decades ago. My friend remembered vividly how prone we are to hurting one another and warned me against inflicting even more damage.
Today, as we finally begin to make plans to lay my brother to rest, my friend’s wise words have returned to my heart. See, every person at this funeral has a personal history with my brother. And if their story is anything like mine, it’s complicated, leaving more questions than answers. As believers in attendance, Rob and I have an opportunity to be agents of grace: ready to do good, slander no one, to be peaceable and considerate and gentle. It’s going to require love and strength, but thankfully we are promised these assets as Spirit-filled believers.
“Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.” (Ephesians 4:3 NIV)
Lord, please help us be honoring of one another as we grief. Make us gently when we feel sharp and cross. Give us extra grace to extend to all this around us. May we be aware of their wounding, too, and teat each other with care and compassion. Amen.