“We do not want you to be unaware, brothers and sisters, about those who have fallen asleep, so that you may not grieve like the rest, who have no hope,” (1 Thes 4:13).

We’ve all read the above scripture passage many times. It’s one of the readings that are often chosen for funerals. On the surface, the message seems to be obvious. “We’re Christians, we believe in the resurrection, so cheer up, stop your grieving, act like you have hope.” However, I think that even for those of us who are strong in our faith, who love and trust God with all our hearts, this message just doesn’t ring true. We really do feel sad and are grieving very much the loss of Matty and Jared. Perhaps the above scripture, rather than offering comfort, actually makes us feel worse. “Maybe I’m feeling sad because my faith isn’t strong enough. Shouldn’t I be happy for Matty and Jared? Maybe I just don’t believe strongly enough in the resurrection. Maybe I don’t love and trust God as much as I thought.” Is this what Paul is trying to tell us? If we just had more faith we wouldn’t be so sad?

As I meditated on the above passage, I have come to the conclusion that I think we tend to misread what Paul is saying. He says not to grieve “like the rest, who have no hope.” Notice that he does not say not to grieve. I think you could rephrase Paul to say “when you grieve, grieve like those who have hope.” The physical loss of our loved one’s is indeed something to grieve over. We can believe with every ounce of our being that Matty and Jared are alive in heaven and that they care for us still and are even able to help us. However, we are bodily creatures and the loss of their bodily presence is indeed a great loss to be grieved. So, I think we can best understand Paul if we think about what our grief would be like if we had no hope, if their were no resurrection. As sad as we rightly feel now, imagine if there were no resurrection and this separation were permanent. That’s what St. Paul is talking about. We know through our faith that this separation is only a temporary one. We will see each other again! This is what gives us hope and enables us to grieve, not like the rest, but as those who have hope.

One of the passages that has given me great comfort lately is that of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. It’s not so much the fact that Jesus raised Lazarus that gives me comfort, but rather Jesus’ reaction when he first arrives. St. John tells us succinctly that when he arrived to find his friend Lazarus dead, “Jesus wept,” (Jn 11:35). Lazarus was one of Jesus’ best friends and he grieved over his death. Now, Jesus obviously had faith in the resurrection. In fact, Jesus knew that not only would Lazarus rise again, but that he (Jesus) was going to be the one to raise him from the dead in just about five minutes! Think about that. No one could be more sure of the resurrection than Jesus, and yet he grieved for Lazarus, and in this case even though he knew he would be alive again in just a few moments. This should give all of us comfort that our own grieving is perfectly appropriate and does not mean that our faith is lacking.

Even after I arrived at the above understanding, I still kind of questioned why Jesus would grieve, given his knowledge of future events. Was it just to give us an example? The grief of Jesus is in fact a very comforting example as I pointed out above, but there is another effect of his tears. When the crowds of people at the tomb of Lazarus see Jesus crying, John tells us they exclaimed, “See how he loved him!” (Jn 11:36). In the death of Lazarus, the love of Jesus for his friend was manifested in a way that it apparently hadn’t been while he was alive. The same is true of our love for Matty and Jared. While we are alive I don’t think we always tell the people closest to us how important they are to us. In truth, I don’t think we really realize how important certain people are until they’re gone, and even if we do realize it, we can’t really always express it well. As it did for Jesus, death allows our love to be manifested in a way that wasn’t even possible while our loved ones are alive.

As I reflect back now on the thousands of people that came to the funerals and the incredible outpouring of support, I can’t help but marvel and think, “See how we loved them.” But it’s more than that. Something is now possible that could never have happened before. Matty and Jared saw, from a different vantage point, the same things we all saw. For the first time they were able to see all the people whose lives they touched and see with unveiled eyes how special they were to so many people. I can only imagine the sense of great joy they had as they marveled, “See how they loved us.” This is something they were never able to know in this life the way they know it now.

These past weeks have been very difficult for many of us. Matty and I would regularly spend several hours together every day, in class and just hanging out talking. There is a definite hole there now that is not easily filled, either now and as I look to the future. Perhaps you are finding, like me, that this grieving process is a bit of a roller coaster ride; just when you think you’ve moved on you find yourself back where you were. That’s partly why I decided to post this now, three weeks later; to let other people know that it takes time, the process goes on, and I’m with you. Remember that grief is just the manifestation of our love for a person and we shouldn’t ever expect or want that to totally go away.

So, in the midst of all this, I think of the remarks of the crowd, “See how he loved him.” I know that Matty now sees, and whenever I start to get down, missing him, I pray “See how special you are to me, Matty; see how thankful I am for your friendship.” I know that our friendship continues and so I pray that I may continue to be of help to him and he to me as God allows. Our Father, who is love, rejoices when His children imitate Him, so I also take comfort knowing God must be pleased as he looks down on all this. “See how he loved him,” he must be saying. “See how he loved him.” God will not allow this love to be fruitless, even separated by death. I pray that these words will be a comfort to all of you as they are to me.