“My Redeemer Lives!” - Job 1:21, 19:25-27

Thank you, dear friends, for joining me here today as we surround this precious family in the name and love of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Dear Garrison and Meghan, Ellie, Suzanne, and Deborah…the depth of what you all have experienced in the last few days is incapable of being expressed by words. The inability to say anything helpful has hung over all our heads like a dark cloud. Most of us have tried to speak at one point or another, but as soon as we have done so, we have realized our inadequacy.

Garrison, you and I have had a chance to reminisce a lot over these days of confusion, and your love of the book of Job has given me the inspiration to mutter a few simple words here, that I pray will point us to a glimmer of hope in the midst of this thick darkness. Job’s first response to the tragedy that unjustly fell upon his life is an immense riddle: “Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” The simple faith of these words, the fact that Job would bless the Lord in the midst of loss, unexpectedly shine out against the dark questions which force their way to the surface of our lips:

What, O Lord, have I done to possibly deserve this?
When, O Lord, will you step in and stop all this pain and suffering?
How, O Lord, can you stand by while such injustice takes place?
Where, O Lord, were you when we needed you—are you even here at all?
Why, O Lord, did you let this happen?

The apparent injustice of the situation looms before us all in these moments following this tragic car accident that claimed the lives of Michael, Julie, Jessie, and Hannah. The sheer injustice of this disaster rivals that of even Job’s dire situation. One minute this God-fearing family, this pastor’s family, is driving on the road in Lafayette, Tennessee, helping those who were in the greatest need after tornadoes had ravaged the town—they were providing counseling, food, and supplies—and then the next minute, it was all suddenly over. Tragedy was piled upon tragedy. Those who were graciously reaching out to broken families with the love of God were now broken themselves.

You, the family of these loved ones, have clearly expressed to me that all attempts to find an explanation have left you wanting more, all the attempts to explain this tragedy have been empty and meaningless:

There was some “sin” that caused this.
There is some “greater good” that will be accomplished in this.
There is a “plan” that this was a part of.

All the answers fail. Despite all their good intentions they fall flat on their face when this tragedy shows its true colors. They fail because the solutions they offer are fleeting. They are incapable of telling us why a truly good God who is all-powerful would let something like this befall his children. Every explanation will fail. Words cannot do the situation justice. Words only make it worse.

Job saw this. Job understood this well. His frustration with his friends’ attempts to help him cope made him feel even more alone. He responded defiantly: “How long will you torment me and break me in pieces with words?” Things had become too much for him. Not only had God stepped into his life and taken away almost all that he had, now his friends were making things worse by futilely trying to explain why this had happened.

Job fully understood that God was God and therefore had allowed this to happen. So Job confronted God boldly—Job dared God to explain himself. It is here in this moment, however, that we capture a glimpse, a glimpse which shines out miraculously amidst all the pain and tragedy of Job’s grief. Job confronted God about the tragedy that had come upon him, but then in the next breath he proclaimed his simple faith that drove him onward: “As for me, I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God, whom I shall see for myself, and my eyes shall behold, and not another.”

Job did not rationalize away what had happened. Job did not try to justify God’s decision to take away his family. Job knew that would do no good. The pain would still remain. The wound would still bleed. Yet in the face of it all, Job kept the God he knew in view. He clung to the promises that he had been given. He clung to the fact that he would be resurrected and restored when all was said and done. This did not downplay the reality and depth of his tragedy; it simply allowed him to look behind the circumstances and focus on the God who had created him and who was standing beside him.

So it is for you Garrison and Meghan, Ellie, Suzanne, and Deborah. This tragedy cuts deep—too deep to articulate and probably deeper than any of us, even you, can yet imagine. And so like Job we refuse to listen to those empty explanations around us that try to tell us “why” God would let this happen to your loved ones. We look beyond the circumstances of this tragedy to the God who stands behind it. We may rage against him and cry out defiantly in his face—and this he welcomes us to do. Yet with Job we ultimately return to the one thing we have—the promise of God. For us, that promise lies in Jesus Christ—our Redeemer who lives, our Redeemer who reveals the true goodness of God. We know that despite the horrid turns this life has taken and will continue to take, that our hope lies in the fact that when all is said and done we will stand before Jesus Christ and behold him with our own eyes.

Michael, Julie, Jessie, and Hannah were all baptized into Jesus Christ. They were baptized into his death and resurrection. The same promise to which Job clung is real for them and for us as well. You, too, are also baptized, and it is to that word of hope that you cling. The grief is real, the pain will continue. Our hope lies on the other side, on the other side of the cross, on the other side of all this pain and all this grief—it lies in the resurrection and restoration of our bodies to come, where there will be no more pain and no more grief. With Jesus Christ we too will go through death and will emerge triumphant and vindicated on the other side. And because of this, our hope is real today even in the face of such horrible tragedy. At the resurrection of the body you will be reunited with your beloved family—Michael, Julie, Jessie, and Hannah. It is from this hope that they, and we also, have in Jesus Christ that we pull the courage and strength to live on to the glory of God. May the peace of God that passes all understanding fill you with his comfort and hope until the day of our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.