This summer I have ministered to more families who walked through the valley of the shadow of death, than I ever have in such a short period of time throughout my ministry at Savage Memorial. I have shared in bereavement with a young couple who lost their firstborn child. I have seen a lifelong member of our church taken suddenly in an automobile accident, leaving a wife and four children along with tragically bereaved parents. This week a very dear friend and fellow minister turned off his alarm clock and quietly passed away in a moment, leaving his beloved wife, and cutting short an anticipated joyous retirement. I also shared this week in the bereavement of one of our member families, where mother and grandmother left them with a suddenness that made them all feel empty. I have stood by as a very dear member of our church wasted away, ravaged by a disease for which there is no known cure.
I have certainly become aware that death is no respecter of persons. It strikes the young and old, weak and strong, sick and well. It leaves a gaping void in the lives of most of the members of the families that it strikes. I have observed that where love is deeply held, the loss is more deeply felt. Death is the greatest disrupter of mutual plans of any enemy we have. It shatters the dreams of the young, and the community of the old. I have discovered that people of faith suffer loss as much as those who have little faith. I can also say, that in sharing the death experience with Christians, non-Christians, believers, agnostics and Atheists, I have never seen anyone stand by the grave of a loved one without expressing some hope that there is life for their loved one beyond this moment.
On the positive side, I have been amazed at the courage and strength that bereaved ones exhibit as they experience the loss of a loved one. I have seen hurting people sublimate their own hurts as they reach out to comfort another. So often, one family member emerges as the one who takes over and holds the family together as a beautiful bundle of life where healing and renewal takes place. Many times a minister is a member of the healing community. At other times, there is so much of a healing flow within the family that one need only step aside and let the comforting and healing process take over.
This summer, I have seen resurrection faith at work in an unbelievable way. Resurrection faith is made of a tough fabric. It does not gloss over the hurt. It does not try to brush the hurting under some make-believe magic carpet. In a beautiful way, resurrection faith confronts death, deals with the loss of bereavement, and enables the bereaved to walk right through the valley of the shadow of death and come out on the other side a more whole person. It does not minimize the sense of loss and bereavement, but it gives the person hope and courage to walk through the valley and come through on the other side with some sense of hope, wholeness and integrity of personhood that enables them to take up life again with a sense of meaning and wholeness that can only come from a deep faith.
I have become aware that we must be very careful how we talk about the will of God in times of bereavement. It is so easy to ask, “Why does God take a firstborn, and leave the parents feeling empty and somewhat angry with God?” One may better ask, “Does a loving God really have it as part of His plan to suddenly pluck a father of four from his family in an automobile accident?” I have come firmly to believe that the answer to both questions is absolute no! The God whose love is revealed in the caring face of Jesus of Nazareth, would have even less inclination to do such a tragic act than you or I as loving persons would. We must find another answer.
I firmly believe that when God made the world and placed human beings in it, he pared away a large chunk of his sovereignty over the world and gave it to humankind. We have created the kind of world where the cars we invented become killers, where drunken drivers drive without caring for others, and where our priorities are so mixed up that we spend more money on inventing new ways to kill than we do on finding new ways to heal. Then where does God fit into all of this. This summer I have come to experience more fully the deep meaning of the cross—a story that affirms that God stands with us in the midst of our pain and our bereavement, and he gives us the courage and the strength to emerge as whole people on the other side.
— Arthur Schwabe
Reverend Arthur Schwabe Blog 