Shared Grief, Shared Joy, Holy Ground
“When it was time for Elizabeth to have her baby, she gave birth to a son. Her neighbors and relatives heard that the Lord had shown her great mercy, and they shared her joy.” –Luke 1:57–58 (TNIV)
A famous Swedish proverb says, “Shared joy is a double joy; shared sorrow is a half sorrow.” This passage reflects that multiplication of joy, as Elizabeth’s community shares her joy over the birth of her long-awaited son.
That joy was a long time coming. We know that Elizabeth and Zechariah were very old and hadn’t been able to conceive. It’s painful to imagine: month after month, year after year, decade after decade, hoping for a child that never came. Eager hope turning frail and fragile, and then—weighed down by decades of heartbreak, confusion, grief, and despair—eventually getting extinguished altogether.
I wonder if people in the community shared Elizabeth and Zechariah’s grief. I wonder if Elizabeth ever had a compassionate ear, or the shoulders of other women to cry on. Perhaps her laments, screams of anguish, and bitter tears were only shared between her, Zechariah, and God. Maybe at times Elizabeth’s grief grew to a threshold so intimately personal that not even Zechariah shared her pain. Just a space between her and the Holy One, into which no other person could tread.
Then. After decades of living with heartbreak and shame, the amazing, incredible, inconceivable news: Zechariah and Elizabeth were to have a son! Not just any son, but the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah. Once Elizabeth becomes pregnant, she remains in seclusion for five months (Lk. 1:24). Perhaps she was extra careful, not wanting to risk anything in this miraculous pregnancy that had finally taken hold in her old age. But I imagine that Elizabeth had much to share with God—an impossible joy that she couldn’t yet express to family or friends but could share with the One who had shown her this great mercy. I imagine those months held the slow shedding of grief, heartbreak, and shame; releasing each day as her belly grew along with the baby inside her. Perhaps Elizabeth needed all that time set apart with God to fully share her heart and everything it held.
After those intimate months of seclusion, Elizabeth’s first visitor is her young cousin, Mary—also carrying a miraculous child. Their encounter radiates joy; so much so that baby John, filled with the Holy Spirit, leaps for joy in Elizabeth’s womb. The baby that elicits such holy joy is, of course, Jesus: Immanuel, God With Us. The very God in whose presence is fullness of joy (Ps. 16:11). The very Jesus who will be a man of sorrows, acquainted with grief (Is. 53:3).
The God who is Love Incarnate knows the full realities of sorrow and joy; they, like love, are innately relational. And we, made in the image of the triune God, share and experience sorrow and joy through relationship. Our sharing of those things in community is holy and precious. Sacredly ordinary—a reflection of our relational, triune God.
There is something incredibly sweet and holy about a community of loved ones rallying around Elizabeth and rejoicing with her at the news of John’s birth. After decades of heartbreak, sorrow, and shame, they rejoice together over God’s miraculous mercy and grace.
Sharing both sorrow and joy is a gift. Sometimes our joys or sorrows are too intimate and holy to be shared with others. In those spaces, God is with us. Other times we share our hearts, opening ourselves up and allowing others to hold us in love. This tender, vulnerable, communal sharing reflects God’s heart of compassion and love, and is a privilege that we get to partake in. Shared joy and shared sorrow are holy ground.
So here’s an invitation. Take time to examine your heart in the presence of Jesus—both your joys and your sorrows. Is there a deep space that you need to share more fully with the Lord? Allow God to meet you there.
Perhaps you sense an invitation from the Holy Spirit to share joys or sorrows with a friend, neighbor, or family member. If that feels like an appropriate next step, find a way to share and see how God meets you there.
Perhaps the invitation is for you to help carry someone else’s sorrow or joy. If God brings a person to mind who might need you to show up in that way, pray for God to open the door for that opportunity.
Wherever you find yourself today, may you experience our God, Immanuel, meeting you with tender mercy, grace, and love. And may you sense your sorrow and your joy being held on holy ground.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Annie Aeschbacher has been on staff with InnerCHANGE since March 2017. She currently serves in the Westlake / MacArthur Park neighborhood of Los Angeles. She loves the gift of sharing life deeply with others and God and is grateful for the ways she has experienced God’s intimate mercy, love and joy through relationship with neighbors and friends.
