Jesus declared, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die” (John 11:25–26 NRSV).
Even so, our hearts are broken. The grief is bitter. I will not offer superficial platitudes in an effort to comfort hearts that cannot be comforted. Nor will I try to answer questions that are beyond comprehension. Instead, I will try to give voice to the bitter sorrow all of us are experiencing. I will try to speak for Carmen and share with you her fears and her faith. Finally, I will try to give voice to our hope that is in Christ Jesus.
Nothing breaks our hearts more than when we lose a child. It is a pain that is without comfort. The prophet Jeremiah cried out:
Thus says the LORD: A voice is heard in Ramah, lamentation and bitter weeping. Rachel is weeping for her children; she refuses to be comforted for her children, because they are no more (Jeremiah 31:15 ESV).
These are the words used by Matthew when he tells us of the slaughter of the male children of Bethlehem. When Job‘s children were killed in a great wind storm he was devastated beyond comfort. As he grieved, he was visited by his dearest friends. At first, they all sat together in silence sharing Job’s grief. That is the proper response to such grief. But then, in an effort to bring comfort to their friend, they begin to speak. They began to try to find meaning in suffering. As we read their words, at first, they seem like words of reason, wisdom, and faith. But they bring no comfort to the bitterness in Job’s heart. Job challenges them, he debates with them, and defends his bitterness before them. After some time in conversation with his friends, Job turned his attention towards God. He shakes his fist to the heavens, he demands that God answer his questions, but there is only silence. Then suddenly, God reveals his glory and reminds Job that God rules the affairs of humans. God will not defend his actions. God does not explain himself. Job‘s debate with God was not an act of faithlessness. To the contrary, his debate with God was an act of profound faith. By faith, Job knew that God could be trusted, that God is not offended by our questions. So, in the days, weeks, and years ahead, as we remember Carmen‘s struggle, let us boldly approach the throne of grace with tears running down our faces, and share our fears and questions with our Heavenly Father.
When Sharon and I came to Vidalia, I met Carmen. I had no clue as to what kind of young woman she would become. Most of our conversations were typical of that between a pastor and any teenager. That is, until she graduated from high school. In college, she faced many challenges. Even so, she wanted to be faithful to her Christian confession. So, on many occasions when she was in class and the professors were challenging her faith, she would send me a text with questions. We had these conversations often.
When we moved to Tennessee, Carmen and I lost touch. But then, one day I received a text from her in which she told me that she had informed her family that when she got married, she wanted me to officiate the ceremony. I promised her that I would make myself available. After some time, I receive news that she had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer. So, I sent her a text. I quoted the words of God to Joshua:
Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the LORD your God is with you wherever you go” (Joshua 1:9 ESV).
Again and again, I sent her these words, “Be bold, be strong. Choose to live.” After the surgery to reconstruct her tongue, she posted a picture of her scars. I told her that those were scars of faith – the scars of a warrior. When she shared the news that she was cancer free we all took a deep breath and expressed our gratitude to God.
But then, when she shared the news that her cancer had reoccurred, the wind was knocked out all of us. It was during this time that she and I had several conversations. I told her many times, “Carmen, I have nothing new to say to you. Be bold, be strong, and choose to live. Trust God.” It was during this time that she called me and told me of her plans to marry a young man, Dalton Murray. She had some hesitation. She always knew that her mortality was threatened. One might think that Carmen was in denial. She was not. She was very aware of what the doctors had told her. She knew she was dying. But she chose to live.
Like most young women, Carmen had several boyfriends through the years. Many of them had broken her heart. And then she met Dalton. Dalton, Carmen trusted you with her most valuable possession – her heart. She loved you. She wanted to have a long life with you. She wanted you guys to have children. She desired to grow old with you.
So, we began planning a wedding. In one of our conversations, Carmen questioned the wisdom of moving forward with the wedding. I responded, “Carmen, be bold, be strong, choose to live. If you want to get married, then let’s have a wedding.” And we did. Dalton, Carmen, and I spent some time counseling over Zoom. In our final session together, I had a frank conversation with them. We talked about their hopes, and their uncertain future. They were transparent with their fears and bold in their hopes. They made the decision to face the future together, whatever it might be.
We gathered on a windy day in March. When I first saw Carmen that day, I knew that she was in great pain. But I also knew that she was determined. She was being bold, strong, and choosing to live. We witnessed a beautiful young couple look each other in the eyes and declare their love. They repeated these words: “For better or worse, in sickness and in health, until we are parted by death.” We all knew that these vows were especially poignant on that day. We knew that without a divine miracle, she would not survive. And then they danced. She chose to dance. This dance was an act of faith. I must confess, Carmen was one of the bravest people I ever met.
At the wedding reception, Sharon and I sat at the table with Jill and Ryan. We laughed and celebrated. And every now and then, we wept and whispered our fears and doubts. Holy scripture promises us that God will not cause us to suffer more than we can bear. I must admit that I’ve often doubted that. So much suffering seems unbearable. I know where Carman got her courage, and her faith – from her parents. Ryan and Jill have demonstrated faith and courage. At this moment, when their grief is unbearable, they have brought us to this place to celebrate Carmen‘s life and to confess our faith in Jesus Christ, our risen Lord. Our hearts are broken, and maybe our faith is shaken. Even so, we confess, “The Lord is our shepherd. Though we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we will fear no evil, for the Good Shepherd leads our way.”
One day I was in a meeting and received a text from Carmen. She said, “I really need to talk to you.” So, I excused myself from the meeting and called her. She said, “I have a really important question to ask you. Am I a bad Christian because I’m afraid to die?” I took a deep breath and replied, “Carmen, we’re all afraid to die. We’re all going to die. We may have a short life, or we may live a long time. But the certainty of death remains. The real issue is not whether or not we are afraid to die; but are we afraid to live?” Then again, I said, “Be bold, be strong, choose to live.”
A few weeks ago, Sharon and I traveled to Atlanta to visit with Carmen and family at Emory Hospital. For a couple of hours, we encouraged each other. The look in our eyes betrayed our words. We all knew the gravity of her condition. She knew it too. At some point we all held hands and offered a prayer for Carmen. A few days later, the medical staff recommended hospice care. Carmen refused and replied, “I want to live.”
Jesus has invited us all to attend a great marriage reception. We will celebrate the marriage of Jesus Christ to his church. In order to attend that great party, God will raise us all from the dead. We shall be changed in the twinkling of an eye. When we see him, we shall be like him. On that day, death will be defeated. We will inhabit a New Heaven and New Earth wherein righteousness dwells, where there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more death. Scripture reminds us that to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. Our Carmen is present with the Lord. She is attending that great party. And she is dancing. I believe that as the angels ushered her into heaven, she was greeted by her risen Lord. I believe that the Lord Jesus extended his hand to her and asked, “May I have this dance?” Carmen dances not as an angel, not as a disembodied spirit. She dances with our Lord as a glorified human – a body empowered by the Holy Spirit that is free of the corruption of sin, free of the pain of cancer, a body that has been liberated from death. Her mortality has taken on immortality. Her corruption has taken on incorruption. Jesus is wearing the robe of a groom; Carmen is wearing a bridal gown of white.
The prophet Jeremiah cried out:
Thus says the LORD: “Keep your voice from weeping, and your eyes from tears, there is hope for your future … and your children shall come back… (Jeremiah 31:16-17 ESV).
Hope is God’s remedy for despair. Hope causes us to look beyond our present sufferings so that we might see a glory yet to be revealed. Even as we grieve, we dare to believe that we shall see her again. The apostle Paul proclaimed,
For this we declare to you by a word from the Lord, that we who are alive, who are left until the coming of the Lord, will not precede those who have fallen asleep. For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words (1 Thessalonians 4:15-18 ESV).
When the trumpet sounds our bitter grief will end and we will join Carmen and Jesus at that great party. Our joy will be full. And we will all dance together.
This is the eulogy I presented at Carmen’s funeral on August 1, 2022 in Vidalia, Georgia.
