Until the Dawn Appears

My daughter introduced me to Matthew Perryman Jones. That led to a birthday gift to see him at a classic, small venue in Atlanta, Georgia. Jones grew up in the greater Atlanta area and got his start where we saw him. We arrived early and managed to get a table that was about 3 feet from the stage. Early on, he sang a song entitled "Until the Dawn Appears". He said it was a song about hope. Ironically, it is a song about sorrow and suffering.

I like how the song does not tie up all the confusing realities around suffering, while still capturing a Christian vision of wisdom and hope. It is also one of many ways that God comes to us in our sorrows. Songs and lyrics touch someone at a level that mere words sometimes do not. Poetry is intended to capture the whole person.

Before listening to the lyrics, here are some thoughts on the song's content:

1. Stanza one encourages the listener to take a good look at one's sorrows. This is helpful because the inclination is to avoid and not grieve.

2. "How Long"....is the cry of the Psalmist. It is also the appropriate cry of the believer. "How Long, O Lord, will you allow this to go on and on?"

3. Stanza two is a wise calling to avoid any form of bitterness or self-medication in an attempt to kill one's sorrows. If you do, they will take over your entire life and soul.

4. Stanza three introduces the Man of Sorrows and a Crystal Sea. Crucifixion, Resurrection and complete Cosmic Restoration. This stanza moves you through these epoch aspects of the Christian faith. No other world religion can offer this kind of hope.

5. Ending Chorus: Words of comfort for the child of God. He will not let us go!

I’ve been turning up the stones in my own discontent
And I’m finding out where all my hidden sorrows went
They’ve been laying there for years,
I kept them out of view
But it's time I dust you off and take a good look at you

Oh how long?
Oh How long?

Well it's easier to clench your fist and grind your teeth
Then to look into the sadness that lives underneath
You can kill off all those feelings
They’ll just turn to ghosts
They will take over your house and become the host

Oh how long?
Oh how long?

Well the Man of Sorrows walked the shores of Galilee
And his eyes were cast with joy towards the crystal sea
Well the shadows will be gone and all these bitter tears
And my heart will hang on that until the dawn appears

Oh how long
Oh how long
Oh You, You won’t let me go
Oh no, no. 
Oh no You won’t let me go
Oh no, oh no, You won’t let me go
Oh no, oh no You won’t let me go

Copyright © 2014 Timothy S. Lane

Thoughts on a Funeral at Christmas

In the midst of a season of the anticipated appearing of the Son of God, I attended a funeral where we reflected upon the sudden disappearing of a minister and friend. These two feel juxtaposed. But maybe not. Maybe the two are connected in some glorious way.

This funeral was unique in its apparent tragedy. He died unexpectedly of a heart attack at age 64, just as he was retiring from pastoral ministry to begin a new season of mentoring young church planters. This was his true passion. Why now?

While the family mourned the loss of their husband, father, and grandfather, I left sorrowful yet deeply edified at the same time. That may seem a bit insensitive, considering what the family was experiencing. But I think a good funeral should do exactly that. And, knowing the family, I suspect that they might be encouraged by the impact of the funeral on non-family attendees. I am confident, as this pastor watched on with that great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us, he was heartened as well.

What stood out?

1.     The auditorium the church rented was filled to capacity with hundreds of people, many who did not attend the church he pastored. His ministry reached far beyond the four walls of the local church he led.

2.     On the Friday night, just after his death on Thursday, I was one of several hundred members of the local church who gathered to mourn and share some thoughts about his ministry. What struck me was who came forward to share. To a person, they shared how this man made them feel welcomed and loved. It was eerily Christ-like in the way he ministered to all people without favoritism.

3.     The local church he poured his life into mobilized the care team to provide meals and childcare, plan a glorious funeral and host a large reception in a short few days. In addition, other churches provided volunteers so those who were members of this pastor's church could attend the funeral.

4.     The participants on stage were made up of a dozen younger pastors who said they had entered ministry because of him. These young men were just a representation of many more pastors and church planters who were in ministry because of this pastor but were not able to attend.

5.     The service began with hope, moved through moments of grief, punctuated by humor, and then ended with comfort, hope, and renewed tenacity to be about the work of the kingdom.

6.     The pastor and his legacy were rightly celebrated but everyone connected this legacy to someone other than the pastor. This someone was this pastor’s Redeemer and King. We had an opportunity to get a glimpse of Jesus through the life of this man.

7.     At least 2 of the funeral participants confessed that they had been unkind to this pastor and went on to speak of how he had offered forgiveness and grace.

8.     In the midst of the celebration, the pastor’s foibles, sins and weaknesses were mentioned appropriately but not in a way that overshadowed God’s gracious work in his life. I left sensing that he was a normal human being, not a super saint that was beyond reach.

As a pastor, I have officiated many funerals and attended even more. For the reasons above, I left strengthened in my faith instead of questioning why God would take a pastor in his prime. I woke up the next day thinking about areas in my life where I need to personally grow in grace and how I might best use the gifts God has given me to point others to Christ.

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