Fletcher Presbyterian Church
A Congregation in Mission
| Fletcher Presbyterian Church • 1578 Cow Camp Road • PO Box 493 • Newland, NC 28657 • Rev. George Gunn Design By: Old Paths Web Design • All Rights Reserved |
By George!
Love as Compassionate Friend
The tragic events of April 16 and the
death of 30 students at Virginia Tech
leave us sharing the grief most of us
have experienced in the loss of a
young friend or family member, a
death we call “untimely.”
The Psalmist sings of a trustworthy
God under whose wings we may find
refuge. The assurance to the faithful is
that “you will not fear the terror of the
night, or the arrow that flies by day, or
the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
or the destruction that wastes at
noonday.” (Psalm 91)
The tragic events of April 16 and the
death of 30 students at Virginia Tech
leave us sharing the grief most of us
have experienced in the loss of a
young friend or family member, a
death we call “untimely.”
The Psalmist sings of a trustworthy
God under whose wings we may find
refuge. The assurance to the faithful is
that “you will not fear the terror of the
night, or the arrow that flies by day, or
the pestilence that stalks in darkness,
or the destruction that wastes at
noonday.” (Psalm 91)
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
That’s what one might call “complete coverage!” By day and by night, in
darkness and in sunlight God’s sheltering love surrounds us. This is especially
comforting when death takes from us one in his or her prime. When a death occurs
which we speak of as untimely, it is hard to understand God’s providence and
purposes.
Where there is love, every death is an early death, but when parents lose a child and
when an accident or an illness strikes down a bright and promising young life, and
especially when the death is at the hands of another, our faith is sorely tested. This is
aptly described in Psalm 91 as “the destruction that wastes at noonday.”
How can we respond but with compassionate love for those whose hearts
are broken? Only the assurance of God’s love and the reality of friends reaching out
and speaking their love in the darkness will touch the hurt and bring wholeness and
healing.
A while back I lost a young friend and, as I dealt with that loss, I found
comfort in the “LOVE chapter” (I Corinthians 13). I heard its affirmation of God’s love
and our love for each other in the context of our losses, in what I call Love As
Compassionate Friend.
Put your broken heart on pause and I will show you a way to hope again.
If I speak in reasoned arguments or in passionate outbursts, but voice my pain and
grief without love, I will sound cool and collected or simply shattered. And if I have
power to look into the future and to explain how life cannot be measured by its length
in years; and if, by faith, irrational death is put in perspective and its pall removed, but
I apply reason and embrace loss without love, I am left empty handed.
If I spend my days now involved in serving others and offer my energy sacrificially in
good causes, but make that a gesture without love, it will offer small comfort, ultimately.
Love, in awe before an early death, waits for kind words and gentle touches; it does
not covet an escape nor does it boast of blind trust.
Love in every tragic loss does not insist on sympathy, does not get irritated by
fairness Love, in awe before an early death, waits for kind words and gentle touches;
it does not covet an escape nor does it boast of blind trust.
Love in every tragic loss does not insist on sympathy, does not get irritated by
fairness questions, nor is it resentful of the living;
Love does not harbor a grudge; it does not whine, but voices joy for all that has been
given.
Love, when life is wasted at noonday, finds the courage to bear up, believes in all that
proves timeless, hopes for better days to come, endures every long lonely night.
Love is never dying. As for heavenly hope, it shall wear thin; as for friendly advice, it
shall fail;
For we know so little and our sense of what the future holds is as fleeting as morning
mist; but when we get the full picture of life as God sees it, the bits and pieces will
come together.
Once, a long time ago, I thought I knew how to speak and think and reason about life’s
mysteries, but that was before my heart was broken, before I gave up trying to be God.
When I gave up such childish pursuits and saw the meaning of life reflected in my own
brokenness, I began to experience the wholeness of true maturity.
Now I have only a fleeting glimpse into God’s purpose within our days and years, but
in time to come I shall behold it fully even as I am being held by a love that is eternal.
Thus these things remain for us, the living: faith in the God who is acquainted with
grief, hope for the healing of our sorrows, and love that binds us to each other.
These three abide, but the greatest of these is compassionate love.
Make love your friend
From Love’s Letters: A Poetic Book of
Confessions by George Gunn
(Library Lane Press / Copyright 2001)
darkness and in sunlight God’s sheltering love surrounds us. This is especially
comforting when death takes from us one in his or her prime. When a death occurs
which we speak of as untimely, it is hard to understand God’s providence and
purposes.
Where there is love, every death is an early death, but when parents lose a child and
when an accident or an illness strikes down a bright and promising young life, and
especially when the death is at the hands of another, our faith is sorely tested. This is
aptly described in Psalm 91 as “the destruction that wastes at noonday.”
How can we respond but with compassionate love for those whose hearts
are broken? Only the assurance of God’s love and the reality of friends reaching out
and speaking their love in the darkness will touch the hurt and bring wholeness and
healing.
A while back I lost a young friend and, as I dealt with that loss, I found
comfort in the “LOVE chapter” (I Corinthians 13). I heard its affirmation of God’s love
and our love for each other in the context of our losses, in what I call Love As
Compassionate Friend.
Put your broken heart on pause and I will show you a way to hope again.
If I speak in reasoned arguments or in passionate outbursts, but voice my pain and
grief without love, I will sound cool and collected or simply shattered. And if I have
power to look into the future and to explain how life cannot be measured by its length
in years; and if, by faith, irrational death is put in perspective and its pall removed, but
I apply reason and embrace loss without love, I am left empty handed.
If I spend my days now involved in serving others and offer my energy sacrificially in
good causes, but make that a gesture without love, it will offer small comfort, ultimately.
Love, in awe before an early death, waits for kind words and gentle touches; it does
not covet an escape nor does it boast of blind trust.
Love in every tragic loss does not insist on sympathy, does not get irritated by
fairness Love, in awe before an early death, waits for kind words and gentle touches;
it does not covet an escape nor does it boast of blind trust.
Love in every tragic loss does not insist on sympathy, does not get irritated by
fairness questions, nor is it resentful of the living;
Love does not harbor a grudge; it does not whine, but voices joy for all that has been
given.
Love, when life is wasted at noonday, finds the courage to bear up, believes in all that
proves timeless, hopes for better days to come, endures every long lonely night.
Love is never dying. As for heavenly hope, it shall wear thin; as for friendly advice, it
shall fail;
For we know so little and our sense of what the future holds is as fleeting as morning
mist; but when we get the full picture of life as God sees it, the bits and pieces will
come together.
Once, a long time ago, I thought I knew how to speak and think and reason about life’s
mysteries, but that was before my heart was broken, before I gave up trying to be God.
When I gave up such childish pursuits and saw the meaning of life reflected in my own
brokenness, I began to experience the wholeness of true maturity.
Now I have only a fleeting glimpse into God’s purpose within our days and years, but
in time to come I shall behold it fully even as I am being held by a love that is eternal.
Thus these things remain for us, the living: faith in the God who is acquainted with
grief, hope for the healing of our sorrows, and love that binds us to each other.
These three abide, but the greatest of these is compassionate love.
Make love your friend
From Love’s Letters: A Poetic Book of
Confessions by George Gunn
(Library Lane Press / Copyright 2001)
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
| More By George! |