Jacob Poore Funeral

Today, we’re here to grieve together in the passing of Jacob Poore. When a young man passes away as unexpectedly as Jacob did, it’s a clear reminder that this world is not as it should be. I know of no grief greater or deeper or more profound than when a parent has to be experience the death of a child. It’s unnatural, not how it’s supposed to be. No doubt these are thoughts you’ve had, and this is a weight you feel even in this moment.

Our lives are filled with wilderness experiences where we aren’t where we want to be or doing what we want to do or experiencing what it seems we ought to experience. And, in the wilderness, like the Israelites all those years ago, we can find ourselves questioning the wisdom of God and the goodness of God.

But, I want to encourage you this afternoon that the goodness of God is a place to run rather than doctrine to resent. I get that from the 63rd Psalm. David is in the midst of his own wilderness experience. His eldest son, Absalom has betrayed him and trying to hunt him down to kill him. As David was hiding in the caves to avoid his son, it must’ve been tempting to question the goodness of God. After all, David was a man who had loved God and served God with all of his heart. But, rather resenting God’s goodness, David ran to it. He wrote these words in the wilderness amidst tremendous grief and injustice:

Psalm 63:1–8 ESV

O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water. So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary, beholding your power and glory. Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you. So I will bless you as long as I live; in your name I will lift up my hands. My soul will be satisfied as with fat and rich food, and my mouth will praise you with joyful lips, when I remember you upon my bed, and meditate on you in the watches of the night; for you have been my help, and in the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy. My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.

David was desperate for God to help him. He recognized that his greatest need wasn’t an easier life or a more understandable life. His greatest need wasn’t water to drink or food to eat. His greatest need was for God to satisfy him. And so, here is David on the precipice of death saying, “Your steadfast love is better than life.” He means that literally. The hope that we have in a world that is characterized by death — including sudden and shocking ones — is that the “steadfast love” of God is better than life itself. It’s the steadfast love of God that stands behind his promises. It’s the steadfast love of God that stands behind his loyalty to us. It’s the steadfast love of God that contradicts the hardships we face in funerals and loss and grief. It’s the steadfast love of God that fills us with the hope that the pain that we know in the wilderness will not have the final world.

So, David says something bold and hopeful in verses 4 and 5. He says something by faith in the wilderness that I think can help us in the wilderness. He says, “I WILL bless you as long as I live. In your name, I WILL lift up my hands. My soul WILL be satisfied....and my mouth WILL praise you with joyful lips.” In one sense, David is saying what he will do in spite of what he has experienced. He will trust by faith in the steadfast love of God in spite of the grief in his soul. In another sense, David is saying what the steadfast love of God ensures: One day, he WILL be fully satisfied, fully joyful, filled with praise. So, it’s his response by faith, and it’s his expectation by faith.

So, to that end, he meditates on the goodness of God rather than running from it. That is, David took the loneliness of the wilderness as an opportunity to aim his thoughts at God. It was an intentional act of his will when everything in him must’ve screamed to be bitter and angry, dismay and in despair.

He remembers how God’s love has delivered him. He says: “for you have been my help.” David had real-life, real-world experiences with the love of God. He knew it wasn’t just an idea. No doubt in the last few days, you’ve looked at any photographs you’ve had of Jacob. Those photographs enable you to remember fond moments and laugh at funny memories. The bring past experiences into the presence so you can feel them again when you’re prone to feel only despair. Your experiences with God’s love yesterday are photographs that show you what you can’t see in your troubles today. He is going to take care of you. Aim your mind, Keitha, at how God has been your help. Remember that his love is “steadfast,” and know that He will help again. He’s not finished.

He rejoices that God’s shadow is above him.”In the shadow of your wings I will sing for joy,” he says. An eagle brings its eaglets under its wing to remove them from exposure. To warm them, comfort them, and to protect them. Their hope is near. It’s real. It’s visible. It’s felt. They can see the shadow of the one who ensures their wellness. “The shadow” of God for David was the knowledge of God’s promises mixed with his personal experience of God’s goodness. Life didn’t feel good then or look good then, but the shadow of God was there. Despite how he felt in the moment, He could see who God really was, and the shadow of God became a place for him to run, a refuge for him to seek. You can rejoice in the wilderness when you’re resting in the Father. Even when you have lost one of God’s most precious gifts, a child, you can take refuge in remembering that you still have the Giver. Remember God’s promises and look to your experiences, knowing that God will see you through again.

He clings to God’s hand that steadies him.“My soul clings to you; your right hand upholds me.” The“right hand” he’s referencing is the hand of strength and hand of friendship. It’s the hand that’s able to uphold you, and it’s, at the same time, the hand that wants to uphold you. So, he “clings” to it. “Cling” means literally that he glues, cements, or fastens himself inseparably to the strong, kind hand of God. He holds onto God so tightly that you can’t see where he ends and God’s hand begins. Several years ago, I was hiking with my daughter. Dusk began to settle in, and she got nervous as we hiked on the side of a bank in the dark woods. So, she reached up and grabbed my hand. While we were walking, she slipped and let go of my hand. And, when she did, she discovered that holding on to her far more strongly than she was hanging on to me.

In this dark night of the soul, cling to the hand of God, and you’ll find that his grip is much stronger than yours. You see, God knows what it is to experience the death of a Son. He knows your pain up close and personally, not from a distance. He can empathize with your grief, and you can rest assured that his “steadfast love” will not abandon you in it.