Good Friday - S1E8

You're listening to The Paul Young Podcast. Hi, everybody. It's Maundy Thursday, the Thursday before Good Friday. and I'm doing this so that we can do a podcast. I just got back from Edmonton, Alberta, where I spoke to a group of business leaders, walked into my house about 30 minutes ago. And I just wanted to address a few things, a few stories.

that pertain to some of the podcasts that I've done and it being Good Friday. Good Friday is part of a sequence of the most momentous events in human history, as many of us believe they are. trust that they are, the incarnation of God in the person of Jesus, Jesus who is fully God, fully human. And people ask, you know, why did Jesus have to die? Part of the reason he did die is because we killed him.

And that is in Scripture, like Isaiah 53. We killed him, but what purpose was there? And I don't want to go into a long theological... explanation or try to plumb the depths of all of the meaning of that but at least i i want to tell you athanasius lived in the 300s And this is how he looked at it. He wrote a book called On the Incarnation, and he basically outlined it this way. Humanity who brought death into the cosmos was dying.

God loves humanity and determines to solve the problem of death. How? By entering death to destroy death and save us from death. But the only way to enter into death is death. But God can't die. So, God assumes human nature in the person of Jesus. Human nature can die. So Jesus can die and invade death. Jesus enters death by dying, but he's also still God. So what happens next? Death dies.

And then Jesus exits death along with its plunder, which is all of humanity. And all these points are in the scriptures. And again, I'm not going to go into the depth of it, but I do want to talk about some of the things that have...

just happened some of the stories in the last few days so over the last weeks Amy has been going through old emails. You know, I was a few thousand behind and had not had the opportunity over the last number of years to try to catch up. I asked her to start going through them, and she did. And every once in a while, she would find an email, and she would say, Dad, you really need to read this one. And one of those was last week, and she said, This is...

one that is important. So I read it and it was from a woman and she said that she had been trying to get a hold of me because her son had died and she wanted to use part of the song. that I wrote in the shack. And if you remember, it goes like this. Breathe in me deep that I might breathe and live. and hold me close that I might sleep, soft held by all you give. Come, kiss me, wind, and take my breath till you and I are one, and we will dance among the tombs.

until all death is gone. And no one knows that we exist wrapped in each other's arms except the one who blew the breath that hides me safe from harm. Come kiss me, wind, and take my breath. Till you and I are one, and we will dance among the tombs until all death is gone. Her son had died, and she wanted to use part of that poem song and put it on his tombstone.

but wanted my permission. So she sent the email in 2022, a couple years ago, and I didn't get to it. It just not fell through the cracks. I just didn't have the bandwidth for it. And I... read it, and it really touched me. And so I responded back to her and I said, I am so sorry that, one, you have experienced the absence, the loss of your son.

And I told her that if I had known, and I apologized, if I had known about her email, I would have granted her permission instantly. But I didn't. She responded back and sent me a picture. of her son's headstone and she had written something and it says always in our hearts forever in our thoughts come sit with me a while tell me about your day Marvel in the incredible beauty of it all. Capturing every moment, let these all be reminders of me. I am here, embracing you, guiding you, loving you.

And it's beautiful. The sun is coming down through the clouds, and there's a beautiful tree in the background.

So remember, this is last week that I get her email. Well, actually, I read her email and I respond and I got a response back. And I had said, I'm so sorry for your loss in the absence of your son. If I had seen your email before now, I would have given permission in a second. I'm sure it's too late, but if you ever want to change it or do something with a poem, you have my complete permission. So she writes me back and she says, Dear Paul,

Thank you for your email. The loss and absence of my son will not go unnoticed. He's deeply missed. I chose to use my own words for his memorial bench. I did manage to read one of your poems for my father's eulogy in 2022, Breathe in Me. I want to extend gratitude. I found great comfort reading your books, poems, and listening to episodes of The Shack.

If I could ask for words you may have to comfort when I find myself lost, missing my son. Maybe a book or books to read. And if you ever make your way back to Canada at some point, I'd be interested in meeting you. My home is Edmonton. That was last week. In this last few days, I was in Edmonton doing that speaking engagement. So I contacted her, and yesterday morning...

We had breakfast together. And it was wonderful. You know, when those kinds of quote-unquote coincidences happen, I always know there's something up. And so I asked for her phone number. We arranged getting together. And we had breakfast. And then at the end of the day last night, she wrote me an email and said, meeting you was a blessing. Thank you for being part of my journey. Your kind words have captured the very essence of the day.

beautiful. And then she wrote this, and kind of remember this as I talk to you a bit more. A god of a trillion stars knew my name and brought you to me, this pillar of strength full of goodness and love. This is how I imagined you to be. This is how I will remember our day, full of love, compassion, gratitude, and healing. And your daughter will always have a piece of my heart. She's blessed.

God bless you and your family. You'll always be in my prayers. So that was kind of beautiful. And then also the same day I got another email from a friend of mine named Jim. And he says, I've been meaning to write to you these past weeks and simply thank you for the great work you're doing on the podcast. The fireside, easygoing, simple and honest format is refreshing in so many ways to what is out there.

Of the topics you have covered, all of them are spot on. I want to thank you in particular for episodes two and three. I believe you know in 2020 I lost a three and a half year old grandson. A tragic accident. Only then did I begin to experience what the deepest grief feels like, with tons of tears poured out, and we still mourn and grieve and celebrate the love he gave us. But this past January, my oldest son and his wife lost a baby.

After six and a half months, a baby boy. And he was due to be born on Easter Monday. While we all grieved the loss of yet another grandson, for me it just felt different. That is until I listened to your episodes and allowed myself finally to weep over that loss, the loss of that little life. You know... We need to grieve. We need to grieve. And you know about last September, it was in the podcast about the loss of Keith, 30 weeks old.

And I talked to you about it. I talked to you about how Josh and Lexi grieved well, and we are healing well. I want to read you a couple things, and I actually may have read you this piece. Back in those episodes, even though they're not long ago, I simply don't have the memory that I used to, so I don't know. We're trying to keep track of what I do and what podcast, and we'll get better at it. But this was a lullaby.

written for Keith by Lexi. You are the sun rising high, the soft morning dew, the birds in the trees which call me and coo. I know you're here. though not by exchanged sight. I'm holding you forever, but for now whisper goodnight. The nose of Sister Lucy, your dad's eyes shining bright, Xander's... precious Giggle and Vivian's gentle might. I will always see you in them. Who they are shines you bright. But for now, darling boy, I whisper a soft good night.

I should have held you tender on this autumnal day. Instead, I visit your body beneath the ground it lays. I grasp for small remembrance as I weep and as I weep. My arms are without you. It is our love that holds me tight. My heart starts as healing, sweet brave boy. Good night. Collect each of my tears in a glass and lovely jar. Hold it in your hands so I'm never off too far. Let's water a garden with them. Just you and only I.

and we will watch our love grow into that which cannot die. For until the great light comes and swallows me up too, good night, my darling Keith. This is a lullaby for you.

And part of Good Friday is that Jesus, who is fully human and fully God, climbs into our humanity in order to destroy death. And Isaiah calls him the man of many griefs, a man of sorrows. And our tears and our sorrows, our grief. are our participation in the war against the death that has held us since the beginning. To grieve well is to war well. It is to join within a community that says, together we will grieve well and we will celebrate the destruction of death.

I got an email from another friend and she said, you know, she knows a nun who has been at the bedside of many, many women who have died. And she said, not one of them. who had a child die in the womb, did not bring up that child before they died. This is real grief and real sorrow. This is the absence and loss of someone. precious, and someone who will always matter. So Lexi sent out a note and she said, I'm planning a gathering for Friday morning, that's tomorrow, with friends.

whomever would like to join at my house probably around 10 o'clock. I've asked Andrew and Courtney. That's Andrew's my son and Courtney's his wife, daughter-in-law. To play some songs and I'm hoping to spend time really sitting and reflecting on the immense gift that was given when we feel the loss. Listen to the words. When we feel the loss of separation.

There is no separation, actually. We can alienate ourselves from love and relationship, but we cannot separate ourselves from love, from God who lives and dwells in us. in whom we live and dwell and have our being. But we feel it. Jesus, entering into our humanity, felt it. And he cried out, God, where are you? I can't see you. I can't hear you. But I know you, so into your hands I commit my spirit. And that's what grieving does when you grieve well.

You feel it, and sometimes you can't sense the presence of God, but you know God. And if you know God is love, and you know God is present, whether you feel it or not, You can say, into your hands I commit my life, my spirit. She goes on. Those of us who feel the loss of separation that Good Friday represents. and have anyone who joins bring an image or a photo or a symbol of that sort of loss or pain, and we will hold it together and then be grateful together that death has been overcome.

and ultimately will be completely destroyed. Good Friday is always just a day before Easter for many, but this year... It means so much more than it has because without the hope of Jesus and without what his life meant, my son would be lost. But I have hope because of the cross. She goes on, I don't know how to facilitate something like this well, but it is on my heart to do it, and so I'm following that. I feel like Good Friday is Jesus weeping when Lazarus died.

If he took the time to lament and participate in grief with his friends, we should hold the space for our friends and family to do the same. Lexi wrote a song for tomorrow. and she asked me to help her, which I did, but it's hers, and it's beautiful. I don't know if she's going to sing it or recite it, but she gave me permission to read it for you.

Before I read the words of the song, I want to tell you something. A few days ago, Lexi and Josh went to their old farm, and there's a cemetery near the farm where Keith's body has been buried in a little simple wood box. And they have moved to another farm, and they wanted to bring Keith's body to the new farm and bury that box there. So they had someone with a backhoe dig a big hole, and then just the family took Keith's box with his remains, and they put him down in the hole.

It was a windy, blustery, very rainy, dark day. But as they put the box into the hole, the sky broke open and a rainbow shone from one side of their property to the other side. It was a kiss of grace. It was a little touch of the hope that we have in us. It was a kindness. So this is Lexi's Good Friday song. It's not you. It feels wrong to say, but it is true. It's not you. This box can carry what remains, but it's true. It's not you.

I want to run and open it, hold the child that's wrapped in it, the blanket that we laid your body inside it. But it's still true. It's not you. It feels wrong. to let you lay alone the trail of the love you only felt unborn this mother's heart first tattered and now torn but it's not you I know it's not you. Oh God, please hold him because I can't. Oh God, remind him that I can't. He's with you. and won't ever be alone. You made sure of that when you rolled away that stone. We stare at the box.

That holds what remains. We want to open it because in a way it's you, but that isn't true. You are held in the light of a million galaxies. The one who holds the world. holds my heart and holds you too. And that I know is true. And that I know is true. On Good Friday.

God, who is fully human, dies, enters death, and plunders it. And when the stone is rolled away, it doesn't let God out. God has already risen. as fully human and destroyed death. Much love to us all. Thank you for listening. If you would like to connect with us with inquiries, comments, suggestions, stories, and more. please go to paulyoungpodcast.com. There you're going to find resources and any notes related to any particular podcast. Today, participate with love, do the next right thing.

and trust the ripples.