Sadness and Joy

It was a bitterly cold Sunday morning in early February. I dragged myself out of bed early that day and headed out to pick up Dan and Will, two of my best friends. On a typical Sunday, we’d all be heading off to church, but this Sunday was different. On this particular winter morning, we granted ourselves a special dispensation from attending church, so we could head downtown to witness a historical moment in the history of the city of Pittsburgh. With coffee and donuts in hand, we stood on the banks of the Allegheny River, right under the Sixth Street Bridge, and watched this.

And just like that, Three Rivers Stadium, home of the Pirates and Steelers for over 30 years, was gone. All three of us spent much of our childhood attending baseball and football games at Three Rivers. For all of us, our formative memories as sports enthusiasts took place there, our fathers toting us there from the time we could walk, teaching us about these wonderful games that gave us such joy.

There we were, ready to watch our childhood home turn into a pile of rubble. As the time of implosion drew near, we shared stories of our childhood visits to Three Rivers. Together, we lamented the loss of something that meant so much to us. But as the morning wore on, our eyes began to be drawn away from Three Rivers and toward the new structure just across the river: PNC Park. Our sadness of losing Three Rivers began to give way to our excitement about a new, beautiful, baseball only stadium. And so it was that our emotions were tossed about that morning, alternatively weeping for what was lost and shouting for joy at what the future held. Dan was more excited than sad, but Will and I were still more sad than excited. But together, we stood there and watched as our past was torn down, and the future called us in.

In Ezra 3:10-13, we hear a very similar story: the beautiful story of the Israelites laying a foundation for rebuilding the temple in Jerusalem. As the foundation was laid, the community came out to celebrate the completion of the first phase of the rebuilding process. And as we hear, some were reminded of the previous temple, and wept at the loss of what they once held so dear. Others shouted for joy, energized by the prospect of what was in store in the future. But in this holy moment, the shouts of grief and the shouts of joy came together as one sound, “so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the joyful shout from the sound of the people’s weeping.”

I suspect that some of us in the Christian Church may identify with the weepers – those who mourn the loss of former glory, those who fondly remember the wonderful religious heritage that has preceded us. It is a heritage from which we all have come, one that formed and shaped the church we see today.

And, I suspect there are also some of us who identify with the joyful shouters – those who are energized and excited about what the future holds, those who might even look on religious heritage and say, “Good riddance!”

The reality is that most of us are probably somewhere in between. Many of us lament the loss of what we had as the body of Christ, but are also excited about what we might yet have. But what’s so interesting about this story in Ezra is that everyone – both the tearful and the joyful – are there. Whether they celebrate the foundation being laid or they shed tears over it, all are here to support the rebuilding of the temple. Whether they want the temple rebuilt in this way or not, they care enough to show up. And in a beautiful, spirit-filled moment, all the shouts of lament and shouts of joy blend into a single shout, and it becomes impossible to distinguish the tearful from the joyful. It is one body, with one voice, coming from one past, marching into one future.

What a beautiful model for facing the uncertain future that is before us now. What an example these Israelites provide for us – whether we long for the past or we wish to race energetically into the future, it is time to become one voice. It is time to balance each other out, for each of us to add to the one sound, rooting ourselves in the past but also embracing the future that lies ahead.

If you are a weeper, we need you to remind us of the glorious past that got us here. And if you are a joyful shouter, we need you to show us the way into the future. It is time to become that one voice, where no individual is silenced, where each one of us contributes to a joyful noise in praise of the Lord.

So, whether we weep or shout for joy or fall somewhere in between, let us all praise the Lord with our voices. Let us honor the reality that we have different voices, and we all may view the past and future a little differently, but if here in the present we center ourselves on the Lord, those many voices will combine as one voice, even if just for one moment. So let us cry. Let us shout. Let us praise God together.

And are we yet alive,
And see each others face?
Glory and thanks to Jesus give
For his almighty grace!

What troubles have we seen,
What mighty conflicts past,
Fightings without, and fears within,
Since we assembled last.