(“A Time To Stop Weeping”)¹

Genesis 49:33; 50:1-14 (NKJV)

with him to bury his father.” (Genesis 50:14)

NOTE: This message is based almost entirely on chapter 176 of James Boice’s expository commentary on the Book of Genesis, Volume 3, pages 1243-1249.

(A) TO EVERYTHING THERE IS A SEASON

(1) Life must go on. That thought offers little comfort to people in the early stages of grief because parent, spouse, child, or a good friend has died. Nevertheless, it is true – God does not intend for us to go on grieving forever.¹ To paraphrase a passage from the Book of Ecclesiastes: “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die … a time to weep, and a time to (stop weeping)” (c.f. Ecclesiastes 3:1-2a, 4a).

(2) Joseph did not grieve forever. He had grieved over his father nearly four months. But eventually the time for grieving passed, and Joseph returned to Egypt, as he had promised Pharaoh (c.f. Genesis 50:5b). Hence, tonight’s text says: “And after he had buried his father, Joseph returned to Egypt, he and his brothers and all who went up with him to bury his father” (c.f. Genesis 50:14).¹

(3) Was it hard for Joseph to return to the land where he had experienced so much suffering? Did he find it difficult to leave the place where so many of God’s covenant promises were to be fulfilled? The last time Joseph saw the land of Canaan he was only seventeen. We can only imagine the memories this visit (a lifetime later) must have stirred up. But now he was returning to Egypt.¹ One commentator said: “It must have been like a second selling to the Midianites – a second going down to captivity. It’s as if he were being asked to exchange Canaan’s bright promise for Egypt’s dark and bitter slavery a second time.”²

I’m not sure I agree with that assessment. It seems to me God’s grace had enabled Joseph to accept his life in Egypt (c.f. Genesis 41:50-52) … that he had even come to understand God’s sovereign purpose for his being there (c.f. Genesis 45:5-8). So, although his hopes were in Canaan, his life was in Egypt (much like our hopes are in heaven, even though our present life is here on earth – c.f. Philippians 3:20). Even though his life was in Egypt, he believed God would one day give Jacob’s descendants the land he was now leaving behind, just as He had promised (c.f. Genesis 50:24-25).

(4) Anyone who has experienced the death of someone very close to them must do a similar thing. Not today perhaps – or next week – or even next month – for it takes time do properly deal with our grief. But eventually we must resume the life God has given us² – eventually we have to go back to work, back to school, back to our home, back to our divinely appointed place of service – and that knowledge, along with the awareness we are moving in that direction, is part of what we call “the healing process”.²

(B) DEATH AND DYING²

(1) Over the last several decades, a great deal of research has been done on how people with terminal illnesses deal with the prospect of their own impending death. These studies have concluded that such people go through five general stages.²

(a) The first is denial. When people learn they have an illness that’s going to take their life, the typical response is, “No, not me!”² – “This can’t be true” – “This can’t be happening to me”. This stage is characterized by shock and disbelief.

(b) The second stage is anger. Now the response is, “Why me?”² – “I don’t deserve this!” – or, if they believe in God, they may ask: “Why is God letting this happen?” – “Why is He doing this to me?” This anger can (and does) lash out in many different directions – i.e. toward doctors, hospital staff, family, friends, and sometimes even God.²

(c) The third stage is called negotiation, where the person attempts to postpone the inevitable. This is the point at which many try and make deals with God, promising to change the way they’ve been living, and/or serve Him faithfully from now on, if He will just give them a little more time.²

This may have been what King Hezekiah did when the prophet Isaiah told him he would not recover from his illness – for the Scripture says he turned his faced toward the wall and prayed: “Remember now, O Lord, I pray, how I have walked before You in truth and with a loyal heart, and have done what was good in Your sight” (c.f. II Kings 20:1-3). When faced with the prospect of death, those who are familiar with the Bible sometimes rationalize that if it worked for Hezekiah maybe it will work for them (c.f. II Kings 20:4-7).

(d) The fourth stage is called withdrawal. Researchers describe this as a time of preparation where the person begins cutting themselves off from relationships that are going to be ultimately severed by death.²

(e) The final stage is acceptance. This is where much of the earlier emotional turmoil subsides, and is replaced by what researchers call “a certain degree of quiet expecta-tion.”² For non-believers the word “resignation” might be more accurate. For those trusting Christ, it’s a time of hope as the truths of God’s word regarding the resurrection and eternal life begin to take on a whole new meaning.

(2) Some think people who are grieving over the death of someone they love also go through certain stages. James Boice suggests there are four such stages to the grieving process.²

(a) First, he says, there is the shock of death itself. Sometimes, as in the case of an extended illness where the outcome is not really in doubt, the shock extends from the time the survivor first learns the one they love is going to die, until death finally comes. Other times, as in the case of an accident, the shock is sudden, intense, and shattering. This stage is often characterized by a turmoil of conflicting emotions. One person said, “it was like having an egg-beater thrust into the mixing bowl of my emotional life.”²

Those emotions include fear (of the unknown), anger (that the person they love is leaving them), and guilt (as in they are somehow responsible).² Often times there’s also a great deal of bewilderment – as in, “What should I do?”³ – “Where can I turn for help?” – and/or, “How will I ever be able to deal with this?”

Our emotions will eventually settle down – but it does take time. Meanwhile, our family and friends can help – not by avoiding the obvious, but by telling us the truth (albeit with a measure of compassion and sensitivity): “Mary is dead, John.” “It’s time to go home.” “We need to get some rest.” “You need to get something to eat.” James Boice says: “Friends can encourage the shocked survivor to cry, or begin to express their thoughts in words as much as possible.”³

(b) The second stage of grief is numbness, in which nothing seems quite real and/or the person who is grieving withdraws. C. S. Lewis wrote on the first page of a journal he kept in the months following the death of his wife, “There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in. It is so uninteresting. Yet I want the others to be with me. I dread the moments when the house is empty. If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”³ Boice says: “in this stage the person is aware of what is happening but is detached from it. The numbness is like that of a wound healing.”³

(c) In the third stage of grief there is renewed activity – an attempt to get back into things. This is what Joseph was doing in tonight’s text by returning to Egypt (c.f. Genesis 50:14). He was picking up the threads of his life once more – he was returning to the work that had been properly interrupted³ – he was resuming the life the Lord had for him to live.

(d) The last stage of grief is adaptation. Life is never the same after someone we love dies – but there can be (and should be) an acceptance of this, along with the recognition that there are still good experiences ahead³ – that the Lord has things for us to do, and we need to get busy doing them. James Boice says: “This last stage may be delayed. Some never reach it. But by God’s grace most Christians come through the grief process, and find their life has actually been enriched by the close presence of Christ, along with the prospect of serving Him once again.”³

(C) HELP THROUGH THE VALLEY³

(1) The question, of course, is, “How?” “How do we get on with living after someone we loved so deeply for so long dies?” Knowing what the stages of grief are can help. Friends, if we have them, and they are perceptive, can aid our recovery. But in many ways, the path of grief, like death itself, is something we have to walk alone.³ Others can go with us part of the way – but there are some parts of this path we must walk by ourselves. What is it that helps us move from the initial shock of death to the fullness of life again?³

Elizabeth Elliot, who suffered through the death of two husbands, has some helpful things to say in this area. Her first husband, Jim Elliot, was killed by Auca Indians in Ecuador while trying to reach them with the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Her second husband, Addison Leitch, was slowly consumed by cancer. Here are some Scriptural things she learned.³

(1) First she says, be still and know that God is God. This response to death or some other tragedy is based on Psalm Forty-Six, where the author describes the earth giving way, the waters roaring, and the mountains quaking and falling into the heart of the sea.⁴

That’s not a bad description of the way we feel when the first shock of a loved one’s death sweeps over us. Everything that once seemed so firm gives way. Its as though mountains are falling on us, the earth reeling under us, and the waves of the ocean pounding over us. In moments like these, it’s a great comfort to know that even though our world seems to be coming apart, God is not shaken. Hence, verse one says: “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (c.f. Psalm 46:1). Since that’s true, it only makes sense to do what He says in verse ten: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” (c.f. Psalm 46:10).⁴

Mrs. Elliot writes: “Stillness is something the grieving often feel they have entirely too much of. But if they will use that stillness to take a long look at Christ, to listen attentively to His voice (speaking to them from/through the Scriptures), they will get their bearings.”⁴

(2) Second, she says we need to give thanks. We may wonder how we can be thankful for things like death, grief, and loneliness. But even when we struggle to be thankful for those things, we can be thankful for the promise of Christ’s presence found in Psalm Twenty-Three, which says: “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me” (c.f. Psalm 23:4).⁴ As one of God’s redeemed children, we can be thankful we aren’t alone after all – we can be thankful for Christ’s promise that “(He) will never leave (us) nor forsake (us)” (c.f. Hebrews 13:5b) – and, as James Boice adds, we can be thankful that in face of life’s terrors God is still sovereign, and therefore still in control.⁴

(3) Third, we must not give in to self-pity. Self-pity is one of the most destructive, paralyzing forces of life. Elizabeth Elliot says: “It is a death that has no resurrection, a sink-hole from which no rescuing hand can drag you because you have chosen to sink.”⁴

By the grace of God, self-pity must and can be resisted. When some great sorrow enters our life we tend to think it’s a greater burden than we can bear, or should have to bear – a greater sorrow than anyone before us has ever borne. But of course, that’s not true. Death, and suffering, and grief are the common lot of all mankind.⁴

Failing that line of thought, we argue that we do not “deserve” such suffering. But is that really true? Do we really “deserve” better? Do we really “deserve” anything? No true Christian can think that way for very long. The fact is, we deserve nothing. We stand where we are solely by the grace of God in/through Jesus Christ. And if we suffer, it’s only what our Lord and Savior endured before us – albeit in a far more intense manner than we will ever know. Besides, Scripture tells us we are not called to escape suffering, but to suffer as Christ did, following in His steps (c.f. I Peter 2:21)⁴ – we’re not called to escape grief, we’re called not to grieve like those who have no hope because they are still separated from Christ and lost in their sins (c.f. I Thessalonians 4:13).

(4) Fourth, we must learn to accept our loneliness. This may be the hardest thing of all, in part, because God has made us social beings and our hearts naturally long for social interaction. However, loneliness has uses and graces of its own. For one thing, it makes us aware of just how helpless we really are – but it also enables us to become increasingly aware of Christ’s comforting presence, and be drawn to Him more closely than ever before.⁴

(5) Fifth, we must offer our loneliness to God. Loneliness is not something most of us would normally choose for ourselves. But if God gives it to us, the only reasonable thing to do is give it back to Him to use as He sees fit (in our life, and/or the lives of others), just like we would offer any other gift He gives us back to Him.⁴

“But,” someone may say, “my loneliness is such a little thing. It is such a ‘nothing’ thing.” That may be true – but so is everything else we have to offer Him.⁴ What makes something useful is not the size or importance of the thing itself, but the placing of it in God’s hands. The small boy’s five loaves and two fish were nothing compared to the need of the moment – but in Jesus’ hands they were able to feed a great multitude of several thousand people (c.f. Matthew 14:15-21).⁵

Think how many have been helped in their grief by people like Elizabeth Elliot, who offered their loneliness to God, who, in turn, used it for the benefit of others.⁵ It is, as the Scripture says: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God” (c.f. II Corinthians 1:3-4).

(6) Finally, Elizabeth Elliot says, do something for somebody else. Specifically, she writes: “There is nothing like definite, overt action to overcome the inertia of grief … an old piece of wisdom says, ‘Do the next thing.’ Most of us have someone who needs us. If we don’t, we can find someone. Instead of praying only for the strength we ourselves need to survive this day or this hour, how about praying for some to give away? How about trusting Christ to fulfill the promise that says, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect (through your) weakness’ (c.f. II Corinthians 12:9)? Where else is His strength more perfectly manifested than in a human being who, well-knowing his or her own weaknesses, lays hold by faith on the strong Son of God, (who is) Immortal Love?”⁵

Elliot continues: “It is here that a great spiritual principle goes into operation. Isaiah 58:10-12 says (in part): ‘if you give yourself to the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted, then your light will rise in darkness and your gloom will become like midday. And the Lord will continually guide you, and satisfy your desire in scorched places, and give strength to your bones; and you will be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water whose waters do not fail … you will be called the repairer of the breach, the restorer of the streets in which to dwell’ (NASU).” Elliot says, “the condition on which all these wonderful gifts (i.e. light, guidance, satisfaction, strength, and refreshment to others) rests is an unexpected one – unexpected, that is, if we are accustomed to thinking in material rather than spiritual terms – the condition is, that we ‘give ourselves’ (v 10) to those around us who are in need.⁵

Boice writes: “Not only grief, but most of the troubles of our lives would be utterly transformed if we would learn to think of others first and serve them before trying to minister to ourselves.”⁶

(D) DEATH AND RESURRECTION⁶

(1) For us Christians, the ultimate answer to death is the resurrection. Hence, we look forward – not only to our own resurrection – but also to the resurrection of those we love – indeed, we look forward to being reunited with them in heaven. This is intended to be a strong source of comfort for us, as Paul’s words to the Thessalonians clearly indicate: ^{13“But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. 14For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. 15For this we say to you by the word of the Lord, that we who are alive and remain until the coming of the Lord will by no means precede those who are asleep. 16For the Lord Himself will descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of an archangel, and with the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. 17Then we who are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And thus we shall always be with the Lord. 18Therefore comfort one another with these words”} (c.f. I Thessalonians 4:13-18).

(2) There is another kind of resurrection, however, that is no less a part of our hope as Christians, and no less a source of comfort. It’s a resurrection that takes place right now, in this life,⁶ after someone we love has died.

When someone we love dies, there is a sense in which a part of us dies with them. Joseph and his brothers buried part of themselves “in the cave of the field of Machpelah, before Mamre, which Abraham bought with the field from Ephron the Hittite as property for a burial place” (c.f. Genesis 50:13) … Joseph and his brothers buried part of themselves in that cave when they buried their father’s body next to Abraham and Sarah, Isaac and Rebekah, and Jacob’s wife Leah (c.f. Genesis 49:31).⁶

In a similar fashion, part of us lies where we buried a beloved spouse, or child, or some other person we loved. Hence, there is a part of us that needs to be resurrected. As we stand at that grave, and hear God’s word assuring us the one who died “in Christ” will rise again (c.f. John 11:25-26), let us not only hear them as a promise applying to the one we love, but a promise that applies to us as well. By God’s grace, grief will be overcome – sorrow will be conquered⁷ – life will resume, and the Lord will continue to pour the riches of His blessings into our lives. Hence, we say with the psalmist: “I shall yet praise Him, the help of my countenance and my God” (c.f. Psalm 43:5d).

“And after he had buried his father, Joseph returned to Egypt, he and his brothers and all who went up with him to bury his father” (c.f. Genesis 50:14).