Tag Archives: death

Things That Time Cannot Mend, But Jesus Can

“How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep…that have taken hold.” ― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

“He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.”” (Revelation 21:4 ESV)

It is these two realities that I struggle with today. Today is the ninth anniversary of the death of my mother, Susan Peperkorn (nee Troy). There is nothing really new or different about this year. We are in California now, enjoying the gifts that God has given to us at this stage in our lives. My children are happy. My wife is, as usual, moving about three times faster than I am. It is sunny outside and warm. I have a wonderful, supportive congregation and staff. But I cannot get the feeling of stuckness out of my head, the overwhelming blanket of death which infects us all to one degree or another.

In the quotation from Tolkien above, Frodo is remembering the knife wound from the witch-king at Weathertop. It was an evil blade, and the would bothered him all the days of his life. Even though he was physically healed, the wound would remind him evert year that he was not whole, that in his journey there had been loss, and that time does not heal all wounds.

This is how it is for me and death. I feel sometimes that I could go from anniversary to anniversary. From death to death to death, and that Satan would drag me down until there is nothing left. Mom, Bruce, Nadia, Emmanuel, Grandpaw & Grandma,Uncle Bill, Grandma Ardis, Grandpa Wilbur. I can remember them all and more. And this does not include all those whom I have buried over the decades as a pastor. Signe and Margaret. Blackey and Ed. Anastasia and Gabriel. Sometimes it seems as though life is one big funeral, and that we simply go from one to the next without any break or even time to recover.

Time does not heal all wounds, but Jesus does. I do not mean this in a pious, syrupy way. What I mean is that Jesus heals all wounds in His resurrection. While we were yet sinners, Christ died for the ungodly. And in HIs death, all of our loved ones near and far were covered. They were covered with His blood, so that now as they arise in the waters of Baptism, their earthly deaths will have an end.

Only Jesus can heal the wounds of a broken soul. Only Jesus can heal the wounds of death which envelop us all. This side of the grave there are wounds that can never fully heal. But this side of the grave is not the end. Jesus breaks the bonds of death itself, so that there will come a time when there are no more tears, no more sorrow, no more morning. Indeed, there comes a time when death itself will be no more.

I, for one, cannot wait. My sadness will pass. The darkness will give rise to the dawn. I rest in Christ, just as all those who died in the faith rest in Him even now.

Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever, and love me, I pray;
Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care,
And take us to Heaven to live with Thee there.

On the Reason for Curmudgeonness

[Originally posted on Lutheran Logomaniac]

Curmudgeon

I often wonder why I get so, uh, curmudgeonly during Christmas time. It is one of the two highest feast days of the Christian Church. The music and Scripture readings for the season are sublime. In every measurable way, it is a time of great joy and happiness. Family gather together. There is festiveness in the air. All in all, it is a good time.

But then I remember.

Nadia. Emmanuel. Mom. The many people whom I have buried over the years who are no longer with their families. The families who now are at a loss of what to do because of this emptiness.

To quote the hymn, “In the midst of earthly life, death has us surrounded.” Or to quote St. Paul, “the wages of sin is death.” Death has a way of messing up and just bringing down everything around us. Some years or season are greater reminders than this of others, but the sad reality is always there, always present, always trying so very hard to draw us into the pit of self-pity and despair.

That is why I get curmudgeonly.

But that is also why I don’t stay curmudgeonly.

Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, to defeat death by taking it into Himself, and to wipe away the tears of grief which wet our faces year after year.

One hymn, perhaps more than any other for me, encapsulates this reality. I hope it brings you joy this season.

Oh, rejoice, ye Christians, loudly,
For your joy hath now begun;
Wondrous things our God hath done.
Tell abroad His goodness proudly,
Who our race hath honored thus
That He deigns to dwell with us.

Refrain

Joy, O joy, beyond all gladness,
Christ hath done away with sadness!
Hence, all sorrow and repining,
For the Son of Grace is shining!

See, my soul, thy Savior chooses
Weakness here and poverty,
In such love He comes to thee
Nor the hardest couch refuses;
All He suffers for thy good,
To redeem thee by His blood.

Refrain

Lord, how shall I thank Thee rightly?
I acknowledge that from Thee
Every blessing flows to me..
Let me not forget it lightly
But to Thee through all things cleave
So shall heart and mind receive:

Refrain

Jesus, guard and guide Thy members,
Fill Thy brethren with Thy grace,
Hear their prayers in every place.
Quicken now life’s faintest embers,
Grant all Christians, far and near,
Holy peace, a glad new Year!

Refrain

God’s richest peace to you this season. Merry Christmas in Jesus’ Name.

Pastor Todd Peperkorn

The Forgotten Emmanuel

[originally posted on LutheranLogomaniac.com]

December 21st is the anniversary of when Kathryn and I lost our son, Emmanuel. It was 2009. And, of course, right before Christmas. Who has time to grieve when there is so much stuff to do?

While the death of Nadia always makes me wish others would remember such days, Emmanuel’s death always reminds me how quickly I myself can forget. Some grief we bury. Some pain is too close, too much to bear at the time.

For pastors, of course, the Christmas season is always a busy time of year. Sermons, bulletins, calls, Christmas programs, caroling, there are always a thousand things to pull us away from our Lord, and from anything else. Pastors don’t have a monopology on this time, either. Mothers, it seems to me, are always full of things that need doing. And holidays or Christmas breaks and the like, well, they may actually be more work for mom, not less. But the list could go on.

How do we allow the business of our lives to interfere from what the point of our lives is in the first place? I forget what is important. I forget even big things, like life and death. I get distracted or I distract myself. I run and hide. I flee from such all encompasing realities.

How many of us hide ourselves from our pain? How many walk around, hurting and wounded, in fear of being found out? How many flee at the thought of being weak?

I think that is why a name like Emmanuel is such an important one for Christians. God is with us. There is no “if” behind the name. God is with us IF we behave. God is with us IF we are good. God is with us UNTIL we die. No. It is a statement of fact. God is with us. Period. The words from Exodus come to mind:

“During those many days the king of Egypt died, and the people of Israel groaned because of their slavery and cried out for help. Their cry for rescue from slavery came up to God. And God heard their groaning, and God remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac, and with Jacob. God saw the people of Israel—and God knew.” (Exodus 2:23–25 ESV)

God heard. God remembered. God saw. God knew.

That is the God of the Bible. That is the God who comforts me, even in the face of my forgetfulness and death. That is the God who would come as a little child.

-Pastor Todd Peperkorn

 

Nativity Giorgione 1507

Penacide or Suicide: Make the Pain Go Away

I’ve been thinking a lot about suicide lately. No, not in connection with myself (be not afraid). I’ve been thinking a lot about this pastor who took his life recently, and what this means theologically, emotionally, and for our common life together.

A doctor recently brought to my attention a word and definition that I believe is extremely helpful for the Christian in understanding suicide. The word is penacide. Penacide is the killing of pain. Here’s one definition of it:

Suicide and Suicide Grief: “‘Pena’ is from the Latin ‘poena’ (punishment or torment), the root of the word ‘pain.’ ‘Cide’ is from ‘cedere’ (to strike down). Penacide is ‘the killing of pain.’ It incorporates the reason, wanting to terminate one’s pain. It eliminates the notion that ‘wanting to die’ has anything to do with killing oneself. Penacide is not a kind of suicide. It’s what causes the deaths recorded as suicides. It is the true name of the beast.”

I would contend, and there is an increasing amount of evidence that bears this out, that most of the cases of suicide are really penacide. This is especially true when it comes to cases of clinical depression. Penacide means that you become so desperate to get rid of the pain inside you that you come to the point where you feel you must take your own life. You can’t take the pain any longer.

In most cases involving suicide, this is what is going on if it is connected to clinical depression.

How does this help us? First of all, it helps us to understand that dealing with clinical depression is not the same as sadness or assuaging guilt. Certainly guilt may and probably does come into play, but that is only one piece of the puzzle. But as Christians, we can easily fall into the trap of thinking of absolutely everything in terms of forensic justification. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say I don’t think that mindset is helpful when it comes to depression or suicide.

Let me explain.

Because the neurotransmitters are not working properly in the brain of someone suffering from clinical depression, they become curved in upon themselves. It is increasingly difficult to deal with other people. The noise, the din, the problems, everything is magnified and exaggerated. It becomes physically oppressive. I’ve commented here before on the physical effects of clinical depression. It is hard to explain to someone who hasn’t been there. The closest I can come to explaining it is a combination of claustrophobia and suffocation. It is physical. It hurts. It is terribly painful, because you don’t know what is really going on or why.

Tragically for some, the pain becomes too much. They take their own life because they can’t take that pain anymore. I understand that, and I thank God that my pain never got to that point. But I’ve looked over that edge and seen the other side. It isn’t a good place.

So where is hope? Hope lies in the One who endured all for us. Hope lies in the One who came into our fleshed, suffered for us, and went the way of death so that we need not go there ourselves.

Sometimes the pain becomes too much. When we look at brothers and sisters who are suffering, don’t lay them with guilt. Give them Jesus. Get them a doctor. Be a friend. Love them. Suffer with them. Pray for them and with them. Don’t leave them, especially if the pain looks like it is becoming unbearable. God will see them through, and you through.

So what happens when someone does take their own life because the pain becomes too much? Rev. McCain said it very well in his post on the subject, and it bears repeating here:

I remembered Martin Luther’s wise words when asked about the state of those who commit suicide. It is a shame these wise words were not kept in mind during the history of our church. At my first parish, there was a corner of the parish cemetery where suicides were buried, in unmarked graves, the view being quite a legalistic view of the situation, that a person who kills himself has no chance to confess sin and receive absolution and therefore is lost. Luther rather wisely points to the power and influence of Satan and how we must be on our guard and realize that there are those times when Satan will take one of us captive and overcome us on the road of life.

Here is what Luther said:
“I don’t share the opinion that suicides are certainly to be damned. My reason is that they do not wish to kill themselves but are overcome by the power of the devil. They are like a man who is murdered in the woods by a robber. . . . They are examples by which our Lord God wishes to show that the devil is powerful and also that we should be diligent in prayer. But for these examples, we would not fear God. Hence he must teach us in this way.” [Vol. 54:29].

Finally, if you know a pastor who is struggling, be sure to reach out to encourage him and support him. Don’t sit around thinking, “Oh, somebody else is going to say something.” No, you say something. Do something. Reach out in Christian love. If a congregation is aware that the pastor is suffering, don’t wait, help.

I don’t this is a little stream of consciousness. I’ll try to put my thoughts in a little more cohesive fashion later.

Rest well, friends. Be at peace.

-DMR

Suicide up among those in midlife

The NY Times just posted an article about the rather dramatic rise in suicide rates among those 45-54 years old.  It went up 20 percent in men and 31 percent in women in that age group.

Suicide is an ongoing problem in our culture.  We live in a world where the expectation of a perfect life is almost assumed.  On top of that, the increase of medications and other factors has made suicide rates almost epidemic in the United States.

How is a Christian to handle this?  Well, for starters, we do understand that suicide is a sin (5th commandment), but it is only a sin.  Jesus died for even that.  The notion of categorically condemning anyone who commits suicide is simple not in keeping with the Gospel.   Obviously some may commit suicide as the end of despair over the faith.  Others may do so because the pain becomes overwhelming.  For many, we never know the reasons for suicide.

I am saddened to hear of this trend, and will have to spend some time thinking about it.  Why the rise in this age group?  What has changed over the last decade in the United States that would warrant such a change?

God be merciful to us, as we remember those who have taken their own lives.  I have considered the same in dark hours of the night.  But God is merciful, and has spared me from that fate.  May it be so for one and all.

-DMR