Life can change suddenly, but it is not often that something like the dark cloud of a pandemic comes along and changes life for everyone all over the world at the same time. Dr. David Allen reminds us, “All life is change, all change is loss, all loss must be grieved.” Everyone handles loss differently. Most people are having both good days and bad, ups and downs, but as time drags on, the isolation and distancing, the fear of what could happen and the grief for what has already happened becomes more overwhelming. We at St. Teresa’s have lost several loved ones in the past months and we pray for this long night to end.
Human beings like stability, it feels safe, so even good changes bring with them a feeling of loss that must be acknowledged and grieved. When a priest receives word that he is to become a bishop, this is a great honor, but with that honor comes change, possibly a relocation. He leaves behind the daily interactions with beloved parishioners and they, too, mourn the loss of a familiar presence. How much more then do we grieve the many unhappy loses caused by this virus?
In Matthew 5:4, Jesus said, “Blessed are those who mourn.” What is mourning or grieving and how can it be a blessing? Just as feeling guilty is not the same as confessing your sins, feeling bad is not the same as grieving. Spending your days with a knot in the pit of your stomach, laying in bed at night with a weight on your chest and waking up each morning dreading another day of social distancing is not grieving. Those are symptoms of having suffered some kind loss. We each react to these losses in different ways whether we call it sadness, fear, anger, depression, the blues, denial or numbness.
The blessing Jesus promises to those who mourn is not in the loss itself nor the feelings, denial or numbness that follow. The blessing he promises those who grieve is that “they will be comforted.”
If we simply ignore, repress or give into the debilitating symptoms as the daily losses keep piling up, we will miss the the extraordinary blessings of comfort from loved ones and strangers sent to by the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, to bless us. So just as we receive forgiveness in the sacrament of confession, we receive comfort in the sacrament of grieving.
Here are three things I try to do each day to find comfort for my own loss and grief. I share them that you, too, might be comforted.
Go to our Heavenly Father in prayer and tell him the losses of each day. The Blessed Virgin Mary is always listening , tell her how much it hurts to be so alone, to miss the hugs of loved ones, to not be able to attend the funeral of a friend or to visit those in the hospital, tell her how you long for the Eucharist and the fellowship of the church.
Then give thanks for all the small acts of comforting you have received, a caring voice on the phone, a late night text “just making sure you are okay,” emails, FaceTime and Zoom. Give thanks for the gift and the presence of the Holy Spirit,
Then be a living sacrament to someone else. Make a phone call, text or email someone, especially those who live alone.
Do these three things every day. We can keep asking God why he let’s us suffer or we can be grateful that “The Lord is my shepherd…” Read Psalm 23 and notice that every line is about being comforted by his presence including, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.”
To comfort is simply to stand along side each other, often without words or adequate answers to the mystery of suffering. The Word became flesh, not to explain our sufferings, but to share in them with us. Thanks be to God.