Saturday Sermonette - Dark Mourning

Now from the sixth hour until the ninth hour there was darkness over all the land. And about the ninth hour Jesus cried out with a loud voice, saying, “Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani?” that is, “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” Matthew 27:45-46

Friday began a day of deep mourning for the followers of Jesus, and I'm sure His mother also felt that dark separation from the Son she'd nursed as a baby, the One whose scraped knees she kissed, and the Man she one day followed as faithfully as His disciples.

The Bible limited public mourning to no more than 30 days, but you and I know it usually lasts longer in our hearts.

I used to think it was just tradition that people wore dark clothes to funerals and sometimes (in the more old-fashioned families) continued wearing similar things while they were in mourning--a year, traditionally. In fact, until about a hundred years ago, it was practically mandatory. But the reasoning was just that it was tradition, right?

Well, like most traditions, it probably began because someone just started wearing black, dark blue, brown, dark gray, or some other dark color because they felt like it. They had found a hole in their lives when someone they loved left them behind in death.

I didn't used to understand. Now I do. Dark clothing feels more comfortable. I can hide a little better--fade into the dark corners, the deep shade, or the night.

I know I won't stay there. Someday, bright colors will feel comfortable again. They don't know it yet, the ones who haven't experienced it. They will, probably, someday. Most of us do if we live long enough.

Meanwhile, I'll leave the bright colors to others and rejoice that they are in them. When later I've been wearing pinks and reds and bright blues and cool greens again, and they feel the need to mourn, then I'll wear the dark colors to honor them and to let them know I understand. Like my widowed friends have done for me.

Don't worry about me or feel sorry for me, please. I have a wonderful God, and Jesus is my candle in the darkness. The brightness will grow back.

And those of you who are also in the darkness of mourning? Your bright days are also on the way too.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for being my light to push away the night. Amen.