O’come O’come Emmanuel used by permission. License agreement available on request. Performed by Skillet.,

The conversation delves into the profound emotional landscape that envelops individuals during the holiday season, particularly those who find themselves grappling with grief. Dr. Jeffrey Skinner articulates the duality of sorrow and joy, stressing that it is entirely permissible for one to experience a sense of loss amidst the festive cheer. He draws upon biblical narratives to illustrate that even Jesus, in his humanity, bore witness to grief, as seen when he wept at Lazarus' tomb. This poignant reflection serves as a reminder that acknowledging our pain is not a sign of weakness, but rather a necessary step toward healing. As the episode unfolds, listeners are encouraged to embrace their emotions wholeheartedly, granting themselves the grace to mourn without the burden of guilt. In this spirit, Dr. Skinner outlines practical strategies for navigating the holiday season with an empty chair at the table, emphasizing the importance of ritual and remembrance as pathways to honor those we have lost.

Takeaways

• The church should be a still small voice in the community.
• Grief can overshadow the holiday season, making it difficult to celebrate.
• It's important to give yourself permission to grieve during the holidays.
• Naming the absence of a loved one can help others feel comfortable sharing their grief.
• Creating rituals of remembrance can honor those who have passed.
• Asking for stories about the deceased can help keep their memory alive.
• Joy and sorrow can coexist during the holidays.
• The message of Christmas is about hope and resurrection.
• Advent reflects the longing and messiness of life.
• You are not alone in your grief; God is present in your sorrow

Marcus Aurelius said, what we do in life echoes through eternity. What is your life? Echoing through eternity. Welcome to Echoes Through Eternity with Dr. Jeffrey Skinner.

Our mission is to inspire, engage and encourage leaders from across the globe to plant missional churches and be servant leaders. So join us and hear the stories of servant leaders reverberating lives as God echoes them through eternity.

Brought to you by Missional Church Planting and Leadership Development in Dynamic Church Church Planning International.

Welcome into Echoes Through Eternity. I AM your host, Dr. Jeffrey D. Skinner. What is God echoing through your life today?

Well, I'm just a chaplain, a church planter, pastor, author, and podcast host. Is that enough titles for you? And I'm a fellow traveler trying to follow Jesus through all the beautiful and broken places of life.

This is a space where we talk about things that matter forever, even when they truly hurt like crazy. Right now, I'm a firm believer that the church needs to be present in all spaces.

It doesn't mean that we have to be the narcissistic neighbor demanding attention, the spoiled child who always has to be the center of attention in the room. In fact, sometimes simply by being a still, small voice or even just being present, we can make a difference.

I'm reminded of Dietrich Bonhoeffer when he went to New York to a boys school, I think it was in the Bronx, it might have been Brooklyn, but it had a reputation and it wasn't a good reputation. And so he went in and the boys were living up to their reputation. It was surrounded on all sides.

He was down below talking to, you know, the head of school or something and, or chancellor, and they were all surrounding up up top and, and making all kinds of noise and jeering and, and cheering and just general, generally being, you know, rambunctious and, and beyond rambunctious, truthfully, they were. They're being outright annoying. And Bonhoeffer didn't raise his voice. He didn't try to match the volume in the room. In fact, he began to whisper.

And an amazing thing happened as he began to whisper. The boys got quiet because they wanted to hear what he had to say. They were curious.

The irony is, if he'd have gone in shouting and demanding attention, they probably would not have listened to. But by doing the opposite of what they expected, by being different in that space, he became the center of the room.

And I think oftentimes the church tries to demand attention when we just need to be the still, small voice, take our cues from the Holy Spirit. And so that's, that's kind of what I try to do with this podcast is, you know, there's plenty of Christian podcasts out there.

I generally try to think of the focus on leadership and, and specifically church planting and, and kind of echo voices that, that may be quieter, truthfully, that aren't garnering a lot of attention and, and try to echo them and, and in doing so, I thank you for your listening. We've, we've breached this week.

We just breached the top 20, I think we're number 15 currently and, and religion and spirituality and on Apple podcast platform. So I appreciate that that's not what this is about necessarily.

I'm not here trying to, to be an influencer of any type or anything like that, but I am trying to be present and just offer perspective and echo the voices of some who, who may not otherwise be heard. That being said, I wanted to talk about a subject that may seem a little bit somber for some of you, and that is the empty chair in the holidays.

Thanksgiving. By the time I record this Thanksgiving, this will be the week of Thanksgiving. This is the week before Thanksgiving.

Right now, Christmas lights are already blinking in the neighborhoods. For most folks, this means recipes, laughter, kids losing their minds over presents during Christmas and.

But for some of us, the table has an empty chair this year. And hanging a wreath on the door can feel a little like pretending. It can feel, it can feel fake.

In fact, I have a friend who will bury his wife this week. 50 plus years of marriage gone in a moment.

And he told me with his voice cracking, he says, I don't even know how to buy a turkey when the person who always cooked it isn't here. It's the first Thanksgiving without her. It will be the first Christmas morning without her slippers by the tree. And it won't just be this year.

It will be every year from now on. Every year from now on, she will be absent. It will carry with it her absence. Now, my own story is a little older, but it still echoes.

My grandmother's birthday is right here around Thanksgiving. 22nd November is her birthday and sometimes it was on Thanksgiving Day.

But my grandmother, she has some of the best cornbread dressing on the planet and made some of the best chicken and dumplings I've ever had. Cracker Barrel doesn't hold a candle to her chicken and dumplings.

They, their, their morsels aren't anywhere in the same neighborhood as what my grandmother's chicken and dumplings were. I miss them to this day. My other grandmother used to cook a peanut butter cake that was amazing. And I'VE not found anybody.

It was just her own invention and it died with her. The recipe died with her. Those are the things that we remember about them and. And they can sometimes help things be a little bit easier.

But when the memory is fresh, when the loss is fresh, it still hurts a lot. And it can sometimes put a damper on the holidays.

And sometimes they can feel like they're even more alone because they don't want to dampen everybody else's holidays. They don't want to ruin it. Now we laughed about my grandmother. Back to her story for a minute.

Towards the end of her life, she began to lose her eyesight. So we would joke, you know, be careful because there's a. There's a couple of extra morsels in the chicken and dumplings this year.

We'd find some bones in there from time to time. I miss her stories too, you know, I miss the stories about walking five miles of school uphill. Grandy and Grandmother, they.

They didn't have anything when they got married. They. Their house was a shack that was not air conditioned.

It was not heated in the middle of a field, and they had to hang potato sacks over the windows just to have privacy and to keep the wind and dust out.

When she passed, there were a couple of things where somebody would say, this would be grandma's 89th birthday or 87th birthday today she'd be 100, or not today, but the 22nd. She would have been 109 years old this year. At those times, the table would go quiet.

Gravy got a little bit salty those years, if you know what I mean. Grief doesn't take a holiday. Sometimes it reserves the whole season.

So how do we as followers of Jesus, hold space for deep sorrow when the rest of the world is blasting Jingle bells at full volume? How do we avoid the two extremes of pretending the hurt isn't there or letting the hurt swallow every bit of light in the room?

Let's start with permission. If you are the one grieving this year, I want you to hear this loud and clear. It is okay if Thanksgiving dinner tastes a little bit like cardboard.

It is okay if you cry when Silent night comes on. You are not failing at faith. You are not ruining everybody else's holiday. You are a human being whose heart has been shattered.

And Jesus is not rolling his eyes at your tears. He's the one who stood at Lazarus Tomb and wept before he had said a word about resurrection. Give yourself permission to feel what you feel.

Some moments you may laugh. Some moments you may need to step outside and breathe.

Both are holy for the rest of us who will sit beside someone with an empty chair this year, here are five gentle practices I've learned walking hospital halls and sitting in my own chairs and sitting with people as they grieve. Name the absence out loud. Don't leave the elephant in the corner.

Early in the gathering, someone can simply say, we all know mom isn't here this year and that hurts. We love her, we miss her, and it's okay to talk about her. One sentence opens the valve.

It gives permission for others to grieve and to talk and even share memories. After that, joys and tears can both breathe. Second thing you can do is create a small ritual of remembrance. Light a candle.

Put their favorite pie on the table, even if nobody eats it. Hang their favorite ornament on the tree that they always hung. My family still sets an extra plate at Thanksgiving with Grandma's photo.

10 seconds of honor that says you still belong to us. Third thing you do is ask a story, not a status update. Skip the how are you doing?

And try Tell me your favorite Thanksgiving memory of him or what's something she always did at Christmas? Grieving people want to talk about the person they lost. They're afraid we've forgotten.

When we ask, we hand them the microphone to their loved one's life again. Let joy and sorrow dance in the same room. They're not enemies. The same psalm says, weep with those who weep and you turn my mourning into dancing.

Both can be true at once. We can laugh at Uncle Joe's terrible jokes. We can let the kids be loud. And when someone needs to cry in the hallway, let's go with them.

The kingdom is big enough for both. Point to the deeper story. Christmas is about a God who saw empty chairs all over the world and refused to stay distant.

He moved into the neighborhood, took on skin, entered the grief with us. The baby in the manger is headed to a tomb, so every empty chair will one day be filled again. Resurrected.

The people we love are not gone from the story. They've just entered the chapter we can't read yet. One more thing we can do or one more thing before we pray.

I've had Skillet's new song, oh Come, oh Come, Emmanuel, on repeat this week. I'll be honest with you. I am not a Skillet fan. I don't dislike them. I think they're they're most talent.

One of the most talented Christian bands that's currently out there. I mean they can play so many different instruments. King and country is another one that's out there.

But their Christmas song, oh, Come, oh, Come Emmanuel dropped this year, and John Cooper kind of reimagined it as a psalm of lament. He took the ancient hymn, dropped it into a minor key that feels like fluorescent hospital lights and slugs.

Heavy guitars, slow as a heartbeat, winding down. And, yeah, the whole Internet, or half Internet now the whole half the Internet lost its mind because they added some.

Some heavy guitar and heavy vocals towards the end there. But that's their interpretation of. Of the song. Grief is messy. Grief is hard, especially during the holidays and. And I love their interpretation.

I heard the groan of a psalm written in the waiting room because when you're holding a hand that's going cold, when Thanksgiving turkey is in the oven and the funeral flowers are being arranged, Put to flight can feel a little too tidy. Put to flight can seem senseless. Loses the fight. Feels like the uppercut landed at the cross. But the body hasn't hit the canvas yet.

There's still hope. That's where so many of us live. This December is between the empty tomb and the final trumpet.

The music video opens on a man alone in a hospital room. Christmas lights are blinking through the blinds while the machines keep time. He's waiting for Daniel, who came once and promised to come again.

If that version rubs you wrong because it lingers in the longing, I get it. But if you're the one staring at the empty chair, it might be the most honest Christmas carol you hear this year. Advent was never meant to be tidy.

It's a minor chi plea for the middle of the mess. Oh, come, oh come. So we light the candle anyway. We set the plate nobody will use.

We tell the story one more time because death has already lost the fight. It just hasn't stopped twitching yet. And the one who beat it is on his way back to finish what he started.

I don't often pray in the middle of a podcast or at the end of a podcast.

It's not something you hear a lot, but in the spirit of the tone and the spirit of the theme, for this particular episode today, I wanted to leave us with a prayer and leave you with a prayer. And I wrote it down because I wanted it to be well thought out. I didn't want it to be spontaneous. I hope that doesn't offend you.

I'm going to keep my eyes open during the prayer. If you're watching on, on the YouTube, you'll see my eyes open here and you'll see me ready.

But again, I do that with all the intent and all the, you know, with all good intentions. So let's pray Father, you, know every name that won't be called around the table this year. You catch every tear that falls when the carols play.

We ask Father that yout walk into living rooms that feel too quiet and hearts that feel too loud. Give us courage to name the loss and grace to hold the joy.

Remind us that the light came into the darkness not to scold it, but to sit with it until the morning breaks. Until we all sit together at your table with no more empty chairs.

Hold us close in the name of the One born in Bethlehem who is making all things new. Amen. Friend, if this is your hard holiday, you are not alone.

If you are walking beside someone who's in it, thank you for carrying the love of Jesus in ways sermons never could. If you're experiencing a broken Hallelujah this season, no. That God fixes all things in resurrection.

Until next time, this is echoes through eternity, reminding you that even the deepest ache echoes into a resurrection morning.

If this episode has held meaning for you, if you found it helpful, I ask that you continue to share it with your friends and tell your friends and family about it. Post it on your social media. Until next time. Grace and peace and ask yourself, what is God going through your life today?