As fact would have it, there is a biblical answer to the world’s search to reconcile the conundrum of grief. It is heavily aligned with common psychological therapy concepts, but people only go there if there is no other way.
To loss, there is no answer.
Loss, by definition, is beyond reconciliation.
Humankind has tried many answers, including the concepts of closure and acceptance. But, of course, these concepts are limited in their power; some people can’t access them, and for those who can, it still isn’t a perfect answer.
The best validation, for every person who cannot reconcile their loss, who continues to grieve, is to read the simple words with a metaphorical nod:
“Your experience of grief is real, it is true, and it is beyond words and defies platitudes. The cause and depth of your grief in loss is commensurate with your love.”
WE GRIEVE BECAUSE WE LOVE
The biblical answer to grief is lament: that common sense method of facing the pain, honoring the truth of it. Pain begs to be noticed. It hates being relegated.
The more we relegate our pain, the more it rises up insisting it be acknowledged.
If we accept that our pain must be seen, we open space for our pain to be valued, even cherished. It isn’t too much of a stretch to say that we can “consider it pure joy” (James 1:2-4) because pain as it is faced has an eternal purpose.
But the world cannot and will not reconcile such an understanding. And it thereby refuses the only thing within its control to reconcile it.
When we lament, we allow the pain its place, and giving pain its place means we must do something with it. When we cannot deny our pain, we’re forced to make meaning from it.
So, what can we do with our pain to extract meaning from it?
As we face our pain, we also face the inevitability that once it’s noticed, pain invites us on a journey of meaning-making.
PAIN AND REMEMBRANCE
One such meaning-making exercise is the cherished tradition of remembering or remembrance. The Christian sacrament of holy communion is characterized in remembrance.
There is no clearer way of honoring pain than through remembrance because remembrance is facing. Remembrance is intentionality of purpose.
Remembrance says, “It happened and it matters, and indeed, by remembering, I draw strength from solemnity as I honor the truth, those who have gone before, and what has been lost.”
Remembrance in and of itself draws hope and purpose from not being able to reconcile. It accepts what it cannot change, and indeed it celebrates what is lost.
By remembering, what is lost is retained.
By remembering, what is gone is accessible.
By remembrance, what is no more is honored.
There is a biblical answer to the conundrum of grief, and that answer is closer than we think.
Pain ought not be painful, but it can be a direct invitation doorway to life.
This is an updated edition of a post originally published on Tribework
Featured Image by Peggychoucair from Pixabay
