Jubilate

Seven times in our text, we find the words “a little while.” Jesus says, “A little while, and you will see me no longer; and again a little while, and you will see me” (Jn 16:16). The disciples, as usual, don’t understand what Jesus is saying. “What does he mean by ‘a little while’? We do not know what he is talking about” (Jn 16:17). Because the Holy Spirit has opened our eyes to the truth, and because the events of the Crucifixion have been revealed to the world, we can understand much more about what Jesus was saying than the disciples could at that time. Jesus spoke these words on Maundy Thursday, after Judas had gone out to betray him. “A little while, and you will see me no longer.” A very little while, indeed. The mob was already on its way to arrest Jesus. The disciples would be scattered, and by the following evening Jesus would be crucified, dead, and buried. “Again a little while, and you will see me.” Here Jesus speaks of his resurrection on the third day.

Having the benefit of hindsight, we might look at the disciples and wonder how they could be so dumb. In a little while, Jesus will be crucified and they won’t see him. In another little while, he will rise from the dead, and they will see him. What’s the problem? Why couldn’t they understand? But there is more to Jesus’ words. The Bible is not just a historical account of what Jesus said to believers two-thousand years ago. The Bible is also his words to us today: “A little while and you will see me no longer, because I am going to the Father. And again a little while and you will see me.” For a brief time, the Church on earth saw Jesus in person—for the thirty-three years that he walked among us as a man. Only a little while in the scale of human history. But then Jesus ascended to the Father in heaven. And now for a little while, we no longer see him. Suddenly, the disciples don’t seem so dumb, because we too want to know: “Just what does Jesus mean by ‘a little while’”?

If I tell my wife that I’ll be home in a little while, she’ll be expecting to see me before the next millennium. The government said that we’re going to close down our country for a little while, and now we’re all starting to wonder just what that means. The Church on earth is living within Jesus’ “little while.” He said he would return soon. His Second Coming is near. The Day of the Lord is at hand. And yet, while we’re living in this little while, it doesn’t seem that little—particularly because during this time, Jesus said, we will have sorrow. And we do.

There are different types of sorrow, and Christians don’t get a free pass. There is the sorrow of living with a body that grows more broken and frail each passing year, when we know that God intended our bodies to live forever. There is the godly sorrow over sin, when we recognize that our words and deeds have hurt those we love. There is the sorrow of loss, for example, when someone is robbed of money or goods. Right now all of us are feeling sorrow because of the loss of our normal way of life, the loss of jobs and livelihoods, and particularly, the loss of our ability to come to church in person. Perhaps the most difficult sorrow we must bear during this little while is the loss of the ones we love: father or mother, child or dear friend. But Jesus compares all these sorrows to a woman giving birth. Yes, it hurts. No one can deny that. And yet very soon afterwards, the anguish is forgotten when the woman holds her baby in her arms. Take heart, dear Christians, our Lord promises that soon every sorrow will not only be over but forgotten. Yes, for a little while we do weep and lament, but soon our sorrow will be turned to joy.

There is one sorrow that no Christian ever needs to experience: the worst sorrow of all, which is sorrow without hope. Can you imagine the pain of losing a spouse or dear friend without the hope that you will be reunited in the Resurrection? When we are surrounded by a sea of sorrow, we hold on to the promises of Jesus like a life preserver. I can’t begin to imagine having to face life without this comfort, can you? If Christ has not been raised from the dead, as St. Paul writes, as the first among many, then we Christians are the most miserable people on earth. But he has been raised, and so we have a true hope for a joy that is imperishable.

Just as there are different types of sorrow, so there are different types of joy. Perhaps you’ve experienced the material joy of getting a new car or some other new gadget. How long does that last? Then there’s the joy of love. Christina Perri sings, “I’ll love you for a thousand years,” but most marriages don’t make it to five. There are also worse sorts of joy: The devil’s joy rejoices at another’s harm and misfortune. There are many people who cannot be happy unless they have done harm or seen things go badly for their neighbors. Perhaps you have at times rejoiced to see someone get what “is coming to them,” what they “deserve.” But the worst joy of all is what Jesus told his disciples would happen: “Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice” (Jn 16:20). The sinful world, urged on by the devil, rejoices against Christ and his Christians. It rejoices in the death of Jesus, the scattering of the Church, and the silencing of the Word of God. This is a spiritual rather than a material joy, however, it is not from the Holy Spirit, but from the spirit of the age that opposes Christ and his Word.

Make no mistake. No matter what the media tells you, we are not all in this together. The sinful world is rejoicing that our churches are empty. The devil wants this to become the new normal, so that when we finally have the freedom to leave our homes, we no longer see the need to gather with the saints. And the sinful nature is only to happy to chase the joys and pleasure that the world and the devil have to offer. “You only live once,” they say, “so get all you can while you can.”

The problem with the world’s happiness is that it does not last. Apart from Christ and his victory over death, the best you could hope for is a fleeting joy that gives way to eternal sorrow. This is not the joy that Jesus gives. His joy is eternal. But he will never lie and tell you that there will be no sorrow in this life. There will be. You will weep and lament while the world rejoices. You will be sorrowful, but only for a little while. Just as a woman suffers from birth pangs only until the child is born, so we and all of creation groan and travail, waiting for that final day: the redemption of our bodies, and the glorious coming of Jesus, and the resurrection of all flesh.

And so, in the midst of our present suffering, we have hope. Yes, your body is growing older every moment. Yes, you are separated from loved ones who are now with Christ. Yes, the Church must still endure the scorn and mockery of the world, even as our Lord did from his cross. But all these things are only for a little while. Find comfort in this promise of Jesus. We have a lively hope and a glorious future awaiting. Soon the time of suffering will be over, and even the memory of anguish will be forgotten. Jesus says to you and to every believer, “You will have sorrow now, but I will see you again and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy from you” (Jn 16:22). Amen.