I anticipate Holy Week this year with a sense of solemn contemplation. A year ago at this time, I had no idea that I would be entering into a year of death.
Since last Lent, I have grieved the passing of friends, family, and the children of friends. It has been a year of accompanying those who mourn while also experiencing, challenging, questioning, and learning to affirm my own grief.
A Year of Death
Last year during Lent, my husband and I reflected upon the fact that four people we knew faced cancer. My husband was one of those four. We offered countless prayers for him and the other three friends who were close to us in age and in relationship. A year later, my husband is the only one who remains. Although we are grateful for my husband’s health, we remain shaken, sobered, and grieved at the passing of our dear friends.
Additionally, since last Lent, a close friend’s son died in a work accident attributed to negligence on the part of the company. At 18-years old, this strong, healthy, faith-filled young man faced a life full of potential. The depth of sorrow that his family now endures is indescribable.
Shortly after the tragic death of our friend’s son, my neighbor’s 7-year old son was struck by a car while riding his bike. He, too, died, sending his family into grief and the neighborhood into shock.
Later, a former student of mine died by suicide.
And, adding another blow of sorrow, this past year also included the death of my beloved dad.
The Liturgy (and our Faith) Carries On
Last year I attended the Triduum and Easter Sunday liturgies with my husband and my parents. Although my aging father faced some health challenges, I could not have dreamed that he would receive a cancer diagnosis three months later, nor that he would die just two months after that.
On his final day, a Sunday, we kept vigil by his bedside. My brother, overcome with emotion, waited outside the room while my mom, sister, and I, like the women at the foot of the cross, prayed in silence during those sacred hours before his final breath.
As these deaths unfolded with a relentless battering of grief, the liturgical year marched on. Through the heartache, loss, loneliness, questioning, anger, prayer, accompaniment, friendship, and love, the seasons of the year continued their rhythmic procession, and Holy Week is again upon us.
As someone who has studied the Faith, taught the Faith, and speaks on the Faith, I must admit to having my faith shaken with the deaths of so many close friends, neighbors, and my dad in such a short amount of time. I have found that, in the face of tragedy and deep loss, I have been challenged to move to a place of trustful surrender to God’s will.
Many years ago, a woman from our parish said, “This is where the rubber meets the road when it comes to faith.” In truth, throughout the past year, like the boy’s father in Mark’s gospel, I have found myself repeatedly praying, “I believe; help my unbelief” (Mk. 9:24).
At the same time, during moments of doubt, I also find myself saying, like Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life; and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (Jn. 6:68-69).
What To Do
Grief experts, spiritual leaders, and friends can offer many valuable practices to help journey through great loss. Recommendations such as grief support groups, spiritual direction, exercise and nutrition, spending time in nature, journaling, time with friends and family, as well as time alone are all extremely valuable. Likewise, in John Steinbeck’s classic East of Eden, a wise character (Sam) counsels a grief-stricken friend (Adam) by telling him to go through the motions of living—to act as though he, himself, is still alive, and eventually it will feel true. There is profound wisdom in this advice.
For my year of sorrow, I have found numerous tools to be of value. Most significantly has been time spent with family and friends, along with daily prayer (prayer that is raw, honest, imploring at times, feeble at others, both rote and spontaneous, and consistent).
This Lent, as my husband and I repeatedly pray the stations of the cross and prepare for the upcoming Holy Week, the sorrow, the fear, and the heartache of Mary and the apostles take on new meaning. I find myself praying that God will comfort and accompany my friends who grieve the loss of spouses and children. I also pray for my own family as we continue to grieve the loss of my dad.
Despite the ongoing heartache of this past year, I do not remain stuck on Golgotha. In God’s mercy and grace, I look forward to Easter Sunday. And for all who grieve during this Lenten season, I offer prayers for you—that you too will be able to enter into the season of Easter with faith in Jesus’ words of eternal life, hope in the promise of Resurrection, and trust in the love of Christ.
Photo by Vidar Nordli-Mathisen on Unsplash