We are Grievers: We Belong to the Largest Community on Earth

Last Monday I attended the funeral of a dear friend. A wonderful and deeply caring man who I have known for twenty years. Someone I had grown particularly close to in recent months. We had had many long conversations. I found the funeral and the lead up to it very difficult. It was a beautiful service led by my ex-wife Sue. No one could have conducted the service with more appropriate sensitivity. I have to say I was utterly heartbroken during the service and was supported by a dear friend.

I have noticed when I attend funerals I am more broken than ones I conduct, even for my nearest and dearest. I think this is because if I am not participating in the service I feel released of the need to support others. I have also noticed that in the past when I found myself breaking down at funerals, this has often been for previous grief. This though was not the case on Monday, the grief was purely for my friend.

Grief is a complicated and deeply affecting emotion. It is not something you transcend. That said it is certainly something that can lead to transformation in your life. Grief can feel very lonely and certainly personal, although it is a universal emotion. Something that will affect us all. This is because grief is about love and the loss of love. All who love will grieve.

All of us belong to the largest community on God’s sweet earth, the community of grievers. Grief is the price we pay for love, it is a price worth paying, for what is life without love? It is nothing, it is meaningless, just an empty vessel. The only way to escape grief is to totally armour your heart and deny love. Now who would want to do that, to live without love, to live the life of a zombie?

Yes, we all belong to the largest community on earth, the community of grievers. Now while it is the largest community on earth it is one that most of us do not want to belong to. I am sure that this has always been the case, but today this seems even clearer than at any time in the past. We live in almost death denying times. We live in times where we are supposed to be able to rise above our problems, our troubles, our struggles. Even modern, so called, spirituality seems to suggest this. That we can rise above anything if we just manifest it. Grief and death though show us otherwise. If I know nothing else, I know that grief is not something we rise above or even get over, grief is something that levels us that brings us down to our human finite selves. I suspect that this is why acceptance is considered the last stage of grief, because somewhere in all of us is this false belief that it can’t really bring us down to human size.

Grief changes you. That said it is not really the loss that does this, but the love that is at the core of grief. Now what hurts so much about grief is the loss, the very real physical loss of the one that we love. There is no consolation for this and we do not get over it either, the pain of such loss becomes a part of us, just as the love we shared becomes a part of us. What actually happens, in time, is that our life enlarges once again and we are not dominated by the intense feelings as much as we once were. That said from time to time the grief will overwhelm us, this can happen years later. Well that is love and loss, it is meant to overwhelm us from time to time. By the way there is no time limit to love and loss either. As Stephanie Ericcsons says in “Companion through the Darkness”. “Grief is a tidal wave that overtakes you, smashes you up into its darkness, where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces, only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, reshaped.” I have been feeling this powerfully recently, since the loss of my friend.

When we lose someone that we love, it changes us forever. Life will never be quite the same again. We do not rise above the pain of grief, we cannot pretend that it is not there, we don’t simply get over it. What happens is that we are changed by it and as a result our hearts are enlarged by it and we grow as human beings, if the love has truly been realized. You see grief is really about transformation, rather than transcendence, by the way this is the true nature purpose of religion. Grief is not an attempt to explain the loss or even understand some meaning locked into what happened. Instead, it seems to me, that grief is more about finding meaning in the absence of an explanation.

Grief truly is the price we pay for love, but then what else is their worth dying for other than love. Surely we all want to live in such a way that our lives will prove worth dying for, by the love we leave behind, to paraphrase good old Forrest Church

Grief does not always appear as tears, it affects people in different ways. Grief can make us cry uncontrollably and it can make us go numb. I have experienced both, at funerals of those I have loved dearly. Grief can make us feel guilty or depressed or fearful or angry. Grief can cause emotional problems in our hearts and physical problems in our bodies. Grief can put us in a state of disbelief; it can make us withdraw; it can make us feel like we are going crazy. In other words, no matter what the textbook tells you, the stages of grief do not offer a direct route. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross’s model from her 1969 book suggests the passage is: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It is often forgotten that Kubler-Ross also said the list is not comprehensive and can happen in any order. This is captured almost perfectly in the following poem by Linda Pasten

“The Five Stages of Grief” by Linda Pastan

The night I lost you
someone pointed me towards
the Five Stages of Grief
Go that way, they said,
it’s easy, like learning to climb
stairs after the amputation.
And so I climbed.
Denial was first.
I sat down at breakfast
carefully setting the table
for two. I passed you the toast—
you sat there. I passed
you the paper—you hid
behind it.
Anger seemed more familiar.
I burned the toast, snatched
the paper and read the headlines myself.
But they mentioned your departure,
and so I moved on to
Bargaining. What could I exchange
for you? The silence
after storms? My typing fingers?
Before I could decide, Depression
came puffing up, a poor relation
its suitcase tied together
with string. In the suitcase
were bandages for the eyes
and bottles of sleep. I slid
all the way down the stairs
feeling nothing.
And all the time Hope
flashed on and off
in defective neon.
Hope was a signpost pointing
straight in the air.
Hope was my uncle’s middle name,
he died of it.
After a year I am still climbing, though my feet slip
on your stone face.
The treeline
has long since disappeared;
green is a color
I have forgotten.
But now I see what I am climbing
towards: Acceptance
written in capital letters,
a special headline:
Acceptance
its name is in lights.
I struggle on,
waving and shouting.
Below, my whole life spreads its surf,
all the landscapes I’ve ever known
or dreamed of. Below
a fish jumps: the pulse
in your neck.
Acceptance. I finally
reach it.
But something is wrong.
Grief is a circular staircase.
I have lost you.

Grief is deeply personal and does not follow a pattern. It can rise up and return at any moment. Its amazing what memories can come back as we grieve, memories of past grief. I went for a lovely summer walk on Monday evening with a dear friend who has known much and deep grief in her life. We talked and shared about many past losses and loves and the complex feelings that accompany them.

As I returned home that evening I witnessed the shocking news of the knife attack at the dance school in Southport and the brutal murder of three innocent girls. This has been followed by the communal grief that such shocking and violent murders raise. It took me back to the murder of Jo Cox in my home town and the communal grief of the community. I also felt the pain of those suffering in Israel/Palestine as well as other parts of the world. The grief on the mass scale that is inflicted on innocent people. Such violence seems inhuman and utterly dehumanizing. It can be unbearable to bare witness to at times, especially if you yourself are grieving too.

What has followed has appalled and disgusted me. How the community in Southport were not allowed to grieve and come together and the grief was hijacked by those who want to spread fear and violence.   

Guilt and anger are two powerful emotions that accompany grief, depression another. I have felt some guilt, depression and anger in recent weeks. Something that has been difficult to talk about as I have had to hold certain things close to my heart. I was able to talk a little about this on Monday and it did lighten the intensity a bit. Sharing our grief, whether personal or communal is so vital. It can become transformative and it is certainly connective. It can lead change in our lives. As I talked about the empathy and deepening compassion that can grow from guilt, this can lead to deeper and more purposeful living. As I often share it is grief that led me into ministry.

I am reminded of an event in the life of the great the twentieth-century Jewish philosopher Martin Buber. Buber placed great emphasis on the importance of establishing deep, intimate encounters between people (I-Thou opposed to I-It relationships) Buber often spoke of a tragic incident that shaped his life, while still in his twenties. He was at home working on a scholarly manuscript when there was a knock on the door. The visitor seemed somewhat distraught, and Buber, sympathetic to the man but anxious to return to his work, answered the man's questions briefly, but, as Buber later expressed it, "I did not answer the questions that he did not ask." Buber subsequently learned that, just a few days after their brief encounter, the man died, an apparent suicide. From then on, Buber concluded, encounters with people must take precedence even over scholarship and mystical speculation.

I am not suggesting that there is a blessing in pain and grief. I hope I am never so crass as to suggest to a person that there is meaning in the loss of someone they loved. No what I am suggesting is that just that meaning can grow from the love that is at the heart of grief. My ministry is testimony to this. It is love that changes us, not the loss itself. There is no blessing in grief and loss. It hurts. It is heavy. It feels like a curse, and it can destroy lives. That said if we can find the support, both visible and invisible we can become transformed by our grief and it can help us to be there for others in their suffering too. This though does not happen over night. It grows slowly as we come back to life once again.

If I have learnt anything I have learnt that this return to life from grief begins as we accompany others. I felt it once again on Monday evening as I was accompanied by a friend. It something I have done with others. To me the religious, the spiritual life is about accompany and being a companion. It is about walking together, sharing together, side by side. Grief can feel so lonely and yet the truth is that it is the most universal feeling any of us will know. We all of us belong to largest community on earth, the community of grievers. May we remember to accompany one another on this journey through love and loss and back to love again.

I am going to end this "blogspot" with a prayer blessing. by Joyce Rupp "Now That You've Gone Home Courage and Comfort for Times of Grief£

A blessing by Joyce Rupp for someone grieving the loss of a loved one.

"May your circle of understanding and caring persons be many and may you allow them to support and sustain you in your sadness.

"May you rest your heartache in the compassionate arms of God each day and find comfort from this Enduring Love.

"May you welcome the tears you shed as friends of your soul, gifting you with an opening to release your pain.

"May disappointment, anger, guilt, or any other hurts that cling to you be acknowledged and set free.

"May you trust the hidden part of you where your resilience resides and remember often the inner strength your spirit contains.

"May you find the balance you need between activity and quiet so you can be attentive to your grief.

"May you be gentle and compassionate with yourself by caring well for your body, mind, and spirit.

"May you believe in your ability to eventually heal from your loss, no matter how much loneliness or desolation you now experience.

"May you have the necessary energy to focus on the details of life that must be done, in spite of how you feel.

"May the day come when memories of your departed one bring you more comfort than sadness.

"May the empty hollow in you grow less wide and deep as you receive touches of consolation and assurances of peace.

"May you be healed from your grief and extend your compassion generously to others who hurt.

"May you recognize when it is time for you to let go and move on, doing so when your grief has faded and you are ready to allow the past to be at rest.

"May you trust that love is stronger than death and draw comfort from the bond that unites you with your loved."

Amen

Below is a video devotion based on the material in this "Blogspot"