A measure of grief
I’m watching my mother-in-law die. This time next week, in all probability, her earthly time will be over. Her kidneys have completely shut down, and it’s only a matter of days that the body can sustain itself in those circumstances. We have begun grieving already. Grief is a strange thing for Christians, bringing – as it does – a real mixture of emotions. As we reflect, we’re not quite sure what holy grief looks and feels like.
We know, for instance, that Christian death is bitter-sweet. We know that it is right to feel the aberration that death is and the weight of sin in the world that makes it so. We know that it is right to feel the loss of someone God has given us for a time. We also know the glorious hope of eternity that Christ has won for us.
I can’t help thinking that in amongst all these emotions, we are also tempted to feel sinful emotions. Self-pity is one of the ugliest sins and it takes opportunities such as this to lay claim on our hearts. It can lead to self-centredness. We’re so busy feeling sorry for ourselves, that we forget to seek the good of others who may also be grieving. And so it goes.
I’m convinced that the pastoral answer to grief is to know certain truths before the moment comes. I think we’re pretty bad at ministering in this way. As a result, pastoral help can often seem trite or full of platitudes. It’s almost impossible, for example, to encourage a grieving husband with the temporary nature of marriage ended by death – though I’m convinced this is an important truth in the grieving process. If a grieving person’s only hope is “We’ll meet again” they will struggle to grieve and recover and our ministry will do little for them.
It reminds me of something I once heard Don Carson say at a ministers meeting: ultimately, he said, we’re about preparing people for death. I’m sure he’d want to nuance that if he had more time – but there’s solid truth there. Too much of our pastoral work is preparing people for this life only, and as such, we fail to adequately help people to grieve well.