I wish our culture did grief the old biblical way: the tearing of clothes, some dirty ashes, wailing and weeping, and some stiff, scratchy burlap - all a palpable representation of what is actually going on.
So authentic.
Honest.
Raw.
I know too many people grieving deeply but forced, by a culture that is poorly equipped to address the real needs of those in grief, to walk around like they're all good - required to fake their "fineness". It's like a second, third, fourth, 1,000th wounding to the original, still gaping and gushing, flesh-exposed gash, all this faking.
Look at one such example of mourning found in the Bible when Jacob found out his beloved son Joseph was dead. “Jacob tore his clothes in grief, dressed in rough burlap, and mourned his son a long, long time. His sons and daughters tried to comfort him but he refused their comfort. “I’ll go to the grave mourning my son.” Oh, how his father wept for him.” Genesis 37:34-35 MSG (btw Joseph wasn't actually dead. His filthy brothers sold him into slavery and lied about his death to their father. Stellar people. But don't worry. It all worked out in the end - several decades later. Oi.)
And notice the time of mourning. None of this, "Hey, it's been a month - Time to get back to normal - Resume schedule - Do the old stuff with the old people, in the same way, as though nothing has changed," sentiments that our culture communicates. No. He grieved a long. long. time. He said he'd go to his grave mourning.
I reread the whole Joseph story today and for the first time all the weeping stood out to me. Joseph weeping, in fact wailing so loud at one point that all of Pharoah's household could hear him. Jacob weeping. Weeping, weeping everywhere. It was oddly comforting to read - because, in my experience, grief is messy and it lasts a loooong time and it changes everything - and there's a lot of weeping. I just wish we were free to be honest about it. But since we don't have a culture that can be publicly honest about it, we at least need a posse of real people around us with whom we can be privately honest.
Who will those people be? Who will show up?
Not everyone you'd expect. Not everyone is equipped.
Instead, it will likely be people who've traveled the path of deep grief before you. They can see it on you. They can hear it in your words and tone. They can feel it as you pass. Because they're already a member of this elite grief club. It's the kind of a club you don't know you need until you really need it. And it turns out, it's a pretty sacred one. No one is raising their hand, eager to join, but once you're in, you'd never go back to the old way of doing relationship because you've found something deeper. You've found the kind that touches your soul and, in doing so, heals your wounds.
What will these healers say?
I don't know. There will be words, but there really are none that can bring back a loved one or fix an unfixable situation or recover an unrecoverable loss. And more often than not the words attempted only add to the burden of the grieving one. It turns out the only ministry with any currency is presence. Sitting patiently with a grieving person and feeling their pain with them is gold to the grieving. It's their lifeline through.
When someone is deep in their grief, struggling not to drown, it's not comforting to hear that they will one day find themself on the guiding side of grief as they shepherd someone else through. But that opportunity will come, and when it does they'll be thankful they have the skills and supplies for this extreme kind of trekking.
#BringBackBurlap #CrackOutTheAshes
#GrieveLikeAHuman
#MournWithThoseWhoMourn
#ThatSherpaLife
