Good Grief
Good Grief
I recently lost a dear friend to cancer. Listen in, please, to a conversation that I had with a fellow church member, as I told him about my grief. (I don’t question for a moment that he meant well.)
I began with, “This has been a hard week. A dear friend of mine died on Monday.” He responded, “You’ll see him again!” My reply was, “I know I will see him again; my sadness is that I miss him right now.”
“It’s just like he’s in the next room,” he replied. “Yes, but he’s not answering the phone.” He took a deep breath and then affirmed my grief.
With this blog, I hope to begin a discussion that will help all who honor Jesus to be more effective caring for those who mourn. I have deep concerns that American believers have slid into a mode that shames grief.
I think the vast majority would be saddened to learn that their expressions of faith in the resurrection have shamed a Christian brother or sister. However, our mixing the American value of positive thinking and a misunderstanding of scripture have created a “solution” that presents the ones suffering with a real dilemma. “If I exhibit sorrow, if I own up to my sadness, others will see me as lacking quality faith.”
We honor God’s Word, yet we’ve unwittingly interpreted a familiar passage in a way that humiliates those who suffer from losing a loved one. “… or to grieve like the rest of men, who have no hope.” 1 Thessalonians 4:13b
Our current understanding (generally unspoken) goes like this: People who have no hope grieve. Those who have hope don’t grieve.
Understand, please, this line of thinking doesn’t truly deal with the phrasing of verse 13, nor does it align with the rest of scripture.
“Godly men buried Stephen and mourned deeply for him.” (Acts 8:2) Paul – in Philippians, describes the health of a Christian worker, “Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow.” (2:27)
Are we observing those who have no hope? Recall that Paul, inspired by the Holy Spirit, also penned the words in 1 Thessalonians 4. Perhaps we need to reconsider our current interpretation.
Go with me to Bethany, as Jesus approaches the tomb of Lazarus. Keep in mind, Jesus knew that he would call his dear friend out of the grave in a matter of minutes. Still, he wept with such vigor that bystanders could observe it and say, “See how he loved him!”
Add to that, twice we’re told that Jesus was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. That could easily be translated, “Jesus was angry.” (In fact, the NLT does just that.) Why was Jesus angry? I propose to you that our Lord was angry with DEATH.
He had good reason. When they created the world, the Father, Son, and Spirit designed the original model without decay or death. Go to the end of the book, when our Great God closes out this current scene and sets up the new heaven and earth – there is no death. It’s here, in the middle, where we experience death, disease, and decay (as well as other frustrations).
The Word makes the reason for this heart-breaking trouble crystal clear. It is part of the “Curse,” – the Lord’s response to the rebellion of Adam and Eve. I can’t point the finger of blame at them, I’ve participated in rebellion myself. How about you?
It is equally made clear to us that there is a change coming. 1 Corinthians 15:24-26 – focus carefully on how death is described.
“Then the end will come, when he hands over the kingdom to God the Father after he has destroyed all dominion, authority and power. For he must reign until he has put all his enemies under his feet. The last enemy to be destroyed is death.”
Return with me to the tomb of Lazarus. Our Lord Jesus was filled with anger and wept because an enemy had ravaged this home, his friend’s, and stolen a loved one. It was not a happy moment; it was not a time to merely focus on future events – Jesus did discuss those with Martha and still cried.
Our Creator grieves; we are made in his image, so we will grieve also. Our unwitting outlawing of mourning has many negative repercussions:
Avoiding or abbreviating grief postpones or cancels healing.
Hiding sorrow blocks our faith family from caring for us, showing the love of God in a tangible way. “Bear one another’s burdens …” “Weep with those who weep.” The spiritual gift of “showing mercy.” Opportunities to be the presence of Christ are sidelined. (Galatians 6:2; Romans 12:15; Romans 12:8)
It makes liars out of us. “How are you?” “I’m fine.” (“I’m dying inside, but there’s no way under heaven that I will expose my weak faith to anyone.”) Ephesians 4:25
The full spectrum of grief (grief cycle) includes experiencing numbness – the first reaction to death or a severe loss. We schedule our funerals often during this phase. What we interpret as strength is often numbness.
Soon we’re plagued with thoughts that begin, “If only …” A flood of emotions arrives. (An aside, I personally experience this not in a wave of tears, but with an inability to keep my thoughts from scattering.)
Anger, depression, and despair accompany grief. As Jesus entered the Garden of Gethsemane, he told his disciples, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death.” – sounds a lot like depression and despair to me.
Finally, we come to a place where we can go on – that is called “Resolve.” Never happy about the loss, but able to continue with life. Pete Scazzero suggests that grief can expand our souls so that we can know God and love others better. If that is true, then this experience is one of value, not to be shunned.
The Lord created us to experience pain so that we will stop and take care of what has been injured, even our emotions.
I am not insisting that it is wrong to hold a Celebration of Life, rather than a funeral. But I won’t tell you it is right, either. And it can be counterproductive.
We serve, “A man of sorrows, acquainted with grief.” (Isaiah 53) We would do well to consider the advice in Ecclesiastes 7 – It is better to spend your time at a funeral than at a party, because the funeral reminds you where we are all headed. It helps to supply the best “camera angle” for our lives. Take time to consider the number of laments in the scriptures.
Years ago, I noticed that a young couple was preventing their three-year-old daughter from crying. I was close to the family, so I engaged her daddy in a conversation. My advice? “If you never allow her to be sad, her happiness means nothing.”
I welcome honest discussion. It matters that we refrain from shaming sadness, allowing our brothers and sisters who grieve to come out of the shadows. AND equip the body of Christ to love in a genuine way. (1 John 4:12)
