Good Grief

My Grandmother loved to knit and now so do I.........

        Like many of you, I am experiencing grief this time of year.  I am going through the "firsts", the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas without my grandmother.  The ironic thing is that I have not spent a holiday with my grandmother in many years as distance was issue and yet I am on the verge of tears at any given time.  The Hallmark commercials, the Christmas music, and then the little reminders that surround me every day jolt me suddenly throughout the day.  And of course as we grieve a recent loss, we must make room for the losses that preceded it.

        As a pastor I know the healthy ways to grieve, however I also know that grief has its own plans, shows up, settles in, no invitation required, with no itinerary in hand. 

        I have always been intrigued by other cultures and how they grieve.  There is weeping and wailing, people lay themselves down on the ground there is no question as to how they are feeling.  How much of our own grief could be eased if we screamed it out without care or caution?  What would it mean to dress ourselves in a way that said, "I am grieving", I have no desire for chitchat, I am doing all I can just to be here. 

            Henri Nouwen writes in With Burning in Our Hearts: "But in the midst of all this pain, there is a strange, shocking, yet very surprising voice.  It is the voice of the one who says: 'Blessed are those who mourn: they shall be comforted.'  That's the unexpected news: there is a blessing hidden in our grief.  Not those who comfort are blessed, but those who mourn!  Somehow, in the midst of our mourning, the first steps of the dance take place.  Somehow, the cries that well up from our losses belong to our songs of gratitude."

            In our grief we connect ourselves to the world in new ways.  We understand each other a little better; we join others in a world that is difficult and complicated.  The little things that remind us of those who have passed before us, are the little things no longer taken for granted.  We are given new eyes.  Minutes do not fly by with little notice; we are given insight to the past; the good and the bad.  We take stock of our own lives; gaining a deep desire to live well.

        Our tears of sorrow and longing are truly our tears of being thankful for what was.  I do not grieve a saint, a person made perfect in death, but rather while acknowledging and shedding the imperfection, I reveal and remember all that was good...this is good grief.

Where is the love?

     Recently I was watching the movie Fiddler on the Roof.  I was struck by how similar the struggles of Tevye are to the struggles of many of people of faith today. 

     When asked how the tradition of matchmaking started he responds he does not know.  How many of our own practices, religious or otherwise, are traditions based on an unknown beginning?

     I often refer to the story of a young newlywed preparing to cook a pot roast for dinner.  Her husband comes in and asks why she has cut off the end of the roast, she explains this is how her mother cooks and that it tastes better this way.  Sometime later she is at her mother's watching her prepare a roast for dinner.  When the mother puts the whole roast in the pan the daughter is surprised and asks why she didn't cut the end off to make it taste better.  The mother looks at the daughter and laughs, letting the daughter know that she now had a new larger pan and no longer needed to cut the end off to fit her old smaller pan. 

Where do our traditions come from?

    Watching Tevye react to the changing times with his daughters is heart wrenching.  As each daughter pushes the envelope, breaking the tradition of prearranged marriage, he confronts God with the question "Now what?"

    Repeatedly Tevye is challenged until he finally declares that he doesn't know if he can bend much more, he feels like he might break.  Giving up on traditions can make one feel like they might break, it can feel like a small pinch or like a powerful punch to the stomach. 

     Throughout this story Tevye keeps coming back to love.  He sees love in his daughters' eyes, he questions the love in his own marriage, and he wonders what love has to do with any of this.

     In this week's gospel lesson Mark 12:38-44, the scribes come into the temple with their large sums for offering, it is what they do, it is what they have always done.  This tradition has set them apart from those who do not give and even those who give less.  Along comes a widow who puts in all she has-2 mites. Jesus points out to the scribes that this widow has given more because she gave all she had.  All the proper clothing, all the right words and a lot of money was not enough anymore.

     What allows a person to give all they have?  LOVE! The scribes are not being asked to give up their traditions but they were being asked to recognize something more.

     Traditions can make us feel connected to others, connected to God; they can bring a sense of home and security to our often chaotic lives.  They can also exclude people.   Should we accept without question all traditions?  Is not our God big enough to handle the occasional fist shake at the heavens; the occasional question?  Can we not risk seeing our traditions through new eyes, and ask ourselves "where is the love?"