Funeral Sermon for Eric Smith
May 7, 2005
Matthew 11:25-30
One of the greatest minds the world has ever seen wrestled to satisfy his thirst for knowledge, pleasure … for life. Augustine put his most personal thoughts to paper in an age before transparency and self-disclosure were in vogue. In his great work Confessions he opens his life of struggle with these words:
Great are you, O Lord, and greatly to be praised; great is your power, and of your wisdom there is no end. … You move us to delight in praising you; for you have formed us for yourself and our hearts are restless till they find rest in you.
Our hearts are restless till they find rest in you. That sums up so many of us 1500 years later. So many are restless as to what to do, what they should believe, how they should live. Our restlessness is neither the by-product of our technological age nor created by a consumerism that thrusts far too many choices before our eyes, so that we can’t decide.
Restlessness is, as Augustine says, our condition which propels us to our Creator.
In the far too few years I got to know Eric, the one aspect of his life which was immediately clear, was his restlessness. When he walked through the doors of Cornerstone I saw a man who did not sit still. His chiseled frame, his cropped hair, his purposeful gait told me he was a Marine, created for action. After church, as is a custom for us in the summer, people gather for a lunch on the lawn. Eric was not content to sit back and snooze, but was up on his feet tossing the Frisbee or playing with kids.
But for Eric, as well as for many of us, restlessness is not just synonymous with activity, but was a state of mind which propelled him to constantly chase contentment. To find his calling in life he went into the Marines, college for criminal justice, the Secret Service and finally with Blackwater Security.
But for all his agitation about what to do in his life, there was one corner in Eric’s life in which he found rest; it was in his relationship with Christ. In Christ he found the solid anchor.
Where it matters the most, Eric rests secure.
The passage I read earlier helps us clarify this important component in our lives. If we are restless until we find rest in Christ, then it is important that even in the midst of lives anxiously striving to find a calling, a purpose, a reason for being – will find that only when we find our rest in Christ.
We find rest in God’s dominion
Jesus’ tender words are in the context of conflict. John the Baptist was arrested and murdered in cold blood. Jesus pronounces judgment on cities that have rejected him, saying they are worse than the archetypal city of sin, Sodom. This is not a safe time or a peaceful place.
But in that setting, Jesus turns his eyes heavenward and speaks with confidence and praise. Notice how he addresses his praise: Father, Lord of Heaven and Earth. The twin name brings together compassion and power. There is authority, but not cold and distant; intimate but not effeminate; forceful, but not fearful.
In this we find the hope and help we need when we face troubles. It helps us not at all if the God we pray to does not exercise dominion in his creation, but is an absentee Lord, nor is there benefit if he is a machine without mercy.
After he addresses his prayer to God who is both Father and Lord, he then summarizes a truth that helps us to find our rest in God’s power, in his dominion of heaven and earth. He reminds us that we aren’t nearly as smart as we think we are, we don’t have all the answers, but God works in those who come to him as children.
In the face of such a tragedy as the loss of Eric, our natural desire is to ask why and we should ask it … but we must know we will not always hear an answer. Wise as we may think we are the greatest lesson we can learn is that God is God and we are not. So when suffering comes, we find our rest in a Father who does not shield us from suffering and pain, but who himself knows well what it means to have a Son die.
Behind and above a discouraging world, stands a poised Father, completely in control and utterly unfrustrated. By looking to this Father, Jesus can feel grateful that events have fallen out as they have. To believed we are the final arbiters of history is inevitably to be full of fear rather than full of praise, because human irresponsibility is an embittering reality.
God reveals himself not on our terms, but calls us to rest in him as little children.
That word for children is nepios - an infant, one who is not weaned. The grace God gives to us is like the milk a mother gives to her nursing child. You've witnessed the intensity with which a baby desires the mother's breast. There is no pretence, no personal acclaim - they are fully dependent on that mother.
There is little better definition of faith than that. There is little clearer to illustrate what God desires of us as we repent of our sinfulness - we acknowledge we have nothing to bring to him while he has everything to give to us.
Eric’s childlike rest is no better illustrated than in his physical demeanor. I’ve never meet a more physically assured, athletic man than Eric, but what soon struck me was his warmth that wormed his way into your life. He would nuzzle his head on your shoulder, or as Martha Long, his mother in Israel and DC said:
Eric's way of scootching himself into the family was endearing. He was just one of our boys.
Of his confidence in God’s plan for his life, Eric wrote a friend last November this:
I'm just not sure about a lot.... good thing God is. Lord, no matter how close or far from you I may be or feel I pray that your sovereign plan would always be leading me back to you and the mercy that is found only in the blood of your son who rose on the 3rd day.
We find rest in God’s communion
In a prayer that beings with terms of endearment, familiar bonds, in v27 we see the relational character of God again. The knowledge of the Father is through the Son, no one knows the Father but the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.
This exclusionary language gives us a reason to rest in God’s communion. The triune God from eternity past has been in a family bond and draws others into that realm. There is a reason the Christian vocabulary is so family centered. When one acknowledges his or her sins, looks in faith to Christ’s completed work on the cross that takes away our sins and imputes his righteousness to us we enter into that family. It is not just Jesus and me; it is all those in Christ, by the work of the Holy Spirit, are sons and daughters of God the Father.
Eric’s family was important to him. He spoke often of his nieces and nephews, of his sisters and of his extended clan. But his desire for community did not stop there as many kids knew him as Uncle Eric or Ekek. Eric was, to his great credit, a relationship junkie. He loved to be with people. It didn’t even matter whether there was conversion or not.
He would often stop by the church office or call for no reason, but would often start with: “So… what’s ya doing.” Eric rested in relationships, but the one relationship that matters the most, that gave the greatest rest for him in his life, and I would say; now as he is with Christ, was his rest in Christ.
We find rest in God’s provision
Christ provides rest
With the promise of a God who is in control and who loves to love, Jesus invites us to respond, to find their rest in what God provides. Jesus calls people not to a concept, not to an idea or some vague faith, but to himself, a relationship: “Come to me…!” he says
Who should come?
Those who labor (older versions - weary) … this is not just an invitation to a vacation, but to those who have tried so hard to be so good, to do what is right, who have sought to please God, but know that their personal purity can not assuage the load of their sin. To all who know their good works benefit them nothing, Jesus says come!
Those who are heavy laden or burdened by all they carry in life. All those who carry with them the knowledge of their sinfulness, inability are invited to come. To those who carry the opinions of others, who live in fear of disapproval, Jesus says: Come!
There is nothing more frightening than the burden of a Christian life lived without Christ. There is nothing worse than when faith becomes a grind, when being good is laborious, when the juice has gone out of life and all that is left is the rind.
Our resting in Christ begins when we’ve ceased from striving to perfect ourselves, when we know that acknowledging our sin makes us fit to receive God’s grace. To rest in Christ is to hold on to him and let him take us the rest of the way.
The other day Signy told me a story about Eric when he was ten. It was Tom and Signy’s wedding day. For all the formality of occasion only heightened Eric’s response of climbing on the banister at First Baptist and sliding all the way to the bottom. While as parents we wag the finger and shake the head, that is a picture of resting in Christ, of holding on and letting Him take you where he wants you to go.
Christ provides work
Finally, notice the rest Christ gives … it is a working rest. The rest Jesus promises is a yoke, a hitch used for cattle to plow the field. While we imagine that the rest we need involves a recliner and a big screen TV, a hammock on a beach or cuddling up with a good book, the rest Jesus offers is a new way to live. Jesus doesn’t offer an escape, but equipment to obey.
But how is this yoke lighter? Because it was carried by another, the burden of the law is lifted, the rest is found in a relationship with Jesus Christ as we place our trust in his carrying the yoke for us 2000 years ago. It was a burden for him so that we would not have to carry it any more. What we are to do, how we are to work now, what the yoke is today - is to believe, trust, rely, rest on him and him alone.
To take Jesus’ yoke, to learn from him is what we all need to do if we wish to rest. This is not some new and improved law, an easier law that we take on. Rather it is knowing that just as Christ bore our sins, he also declares his righteousness, his law keeping is now ours.
This is the rest of which Augustine spoke. This the rest Eric knew in this life. It is a rest that propels us outside of ourselves to love and serve.
Porscha Sabel sent me some clips of emails between her and Eric. As he was preparing to leave for the Secret Service Eric wrote: If I have any fruit left after I'm dead, it is only due to God and His work, I certainly don't have the strength to do it.
That is the rest we are all to embrace. In the face of his tragic death, we can find comfort not just in that he rested in Christ, but that Christ is worthy of our trust. This rest is not a once and done event, but a life of trust, of rest.
I’ve been told that a favorite song of Eric’s was Rich Mullins Elijah. Let me close with these words
The Jordan is waiting for me to cross through
My heart is aging I can tell
So Lord, I'm begging
For one last favor from You
Here's my heart take it where You will
