My world rocked when my Mom died. It has now been more than 20 years, but the memories are crystal clear.
I knew she was dying, and thanks to the popular book, “Tuesdays with Morrie” ( Mitch Albom, Doubleday, 1997) I had initiated Mondays with Mom. Every Monday we talked. We sorted childhood photos of my three brothers and I. We divided up “stuff” that she wanted each of us to have. Mom had Myasthenia Gravis and in the early days of this auto immune disease, the treatment was invasive and damaging. She was on oxygen and the compressor hose limited her distance and movement, so we usually met at her house. One day she asked if I could be a pastor with her. My inner voice said NO, screamed NO, I don’t want to talk about death. Not with you. But my outside voice said sure, what do you want to talk about. “Tell me about heaven” she asked through teary eyes. “Do you think your time is close to going there?” I asked. She nodded.
What did a pastor of less than ten years experience know about heaven? I said she would be free of her oxygen hose!! She laughed. I said she would be free, at peace, held in love.
Gaining courage, I said, she would be okay, it would be okay, she would not be alone and we, all her children and family, would miss her dearly and remember her and her legacy, but we would be ok. She was free to go and I thanked her for being a wonderful Mom, a loving Grandma and for teaching me about compassion. It was a hard conversation, but I am SO grateful we had it.
She died that week. Grief is hard, but this conversation was a beautiful bridge to the continuous bonds I have with my Mom. I live compassion daily because of her.
Grief is a human emotion felt when we experience loss; human loss, health, employment, pets, relationships. Grief is a challenging topic. We live in a death averse, grief illiterate society. We don’t want to talk about it.
Pauline Boss wrote, “The Myth of Closure: Ambiguous Loss in a Time of Pandemic and Change (W.W.. Norton 2021). She poignantly wrote about unresolved grief, not associated with the death of a loved one. Ambiguous loss is grieving someone who is still with you but the circumstances have changed. For example, someone with Alzheimer’s or a traumatic brain injury, severe depression, divorce, missing people, climate change, racism. Boss pointed out that we all grieved deep ambiguous losses during the pandemic. The losses were immense, and largely unnamed. Loss of security, freedom, family traditions, ability to travel, social connections, jobs, childcare, graduations, weddings, celebrations, church traditions and predictability.
I have been in a church every Sunday since being elected Bishop and I listen deeply. I hear a church that is deeply grieving. The church is grieving many levels of ambiguous loss. Loss of certainty, loss of the clarity, loss of beloved Bishops, loss of what was, full churches, youth groups of the past, large choirs, big Sunday Schools. Grief can often bubble up as anger. People feel like control is lost, but it really isn’t, things are changing. Change is okay. We are a resilient church.
I took an intensive course on grief and loss over Holy Week and I found myself writing grief papers intermingled with Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter sermons.
It was quite profound. The ambiguous grief the disciples did not understand, the trauma of the crucifixion and the lack of clarity and predictability, how to understand resurrection. It was frightening and chaotic. And yet, Jesus was there, breathing peace, telling them to let go, to not be afraid and to be commissioned as God’s disciples, to go and share God’s love. And they did, and so will we.
The continued bonds of Love are far deeper than the last 50 years of baby boomers and post-World War II population and church growth in Canada. The continuous bonds of God’s love extends far back. Out of chaos, our story and God’s story unfolded and continues to unfold. We will not be alone, we will not be afraid, we will go out and be God’s people in a changing society. God’s church is not dying, it is rebirthing. Peace to new beginnings.