Completely Unhelpful Things to Say to Someone in Grief, Part 4

[This is part of a series of posts on completely unhelpful things to say to someone in grief. See the others here.] In Part 2 of this series of posts, I posted this picture of a Christmas ornament that I thought represented something really unhelpful to say to someone in grief:

This ad for a Christmas ornament was the first time I'd seen those words, but in the months since I've continually seen them in different places. I've seen friends turn to them in support after losing someone, and I've had pastor friends recommend them to those in grief. So I thought I'd revisit that post and explain, while treading lightly, why I think it's completely unhelpful.

Hopefully you haven't been looking through a book of options for verses to print on memorial cards at a funeral home anytime recently, but if you have been the words from the ornament have probably been in there as part of a short poem:

God saw you getting tired and a cure was not to be so he put his arms around you and whispered, "Come to Me"

With tearful eyes we watched you and saw you pass away and although we love you dearly we could not make you stay.

A Golden heart stopped beating hard working hands at rest. God broke our hearts to prove to us He only takes the best

I can understand the sentiment and experience behind it, and don't particularly have any problem with it... until the last two lines: I'm quite sure that God is not in a habit of breaking people's hearts in order to prove to us that he only takes the best. I don't attribute the tumor that took my Dad's life to God, and I certainly don't attribute it to God's desire to prove a point to us, and I absolutely don't attribute it to God's desire to prove a point that he only takes the best.

I would never want to love or trust a God who does things like that. My Dad died of cancer, as did each of his parents, because our bodies- like all of creation- are imperfect and eagerly awaiting the day when God will make all things new. Sickness is a terrible part of life on earth, but one of the reasons for Christ's coming as a human was so that he would defeat death. He destroyed it, and we have to pay attention to the historic Christian belief that the resurrection that brought Jesus from the grave in a renewed, death-defeating body will happen one day in Christ to my Dad and all of us.

That's a much more Biblical understanding than that God was sitting in heaven and decided I needed to learn a lesson, so he implanted a tumor in my Dad's esophagus. The poem says that God took my Dad, breaking our hearts, just to make a point to us? That's a God whose good side I'm going to try to stay on, but from whom I'm going to keep a safe distance. I'll certainly have trouble trusting him trusting him with anything or anyone else meaningful in my life. (Be careful kids, and please don't be one of the best!)

And how could there possibly be any way for it to be true that God "only takes the best"? Who takes the rest? And, sitting at the bedside of my loved one, how could I know the difference? Perhaps getting one of these ornaments as a gift somehow plays a role?

A passage of Scripture that has fascinated me for some time is when John says, "This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, that God is light and in him there is no darkness at all" (1 John 1:5). Jesus' friend, who saw his miraculous, outstanding life, then saw the worst of things happen to him, others he loved, and surely endured some hard things himself, summarized the entire message of Jesus in this way. Not: "Jesus died for you and you can go to heaven when you die." Not: "Live a holy life so that God will be pleased with you and you can avoid his wrath." No, he said, "God is light and in him there is no darkness at all."

Another way of saying this is: There's nothing bad about God. God is completely and utterly good and trustworthy. God won't deliberately take someone from you (even if they are one of the best) so that you'll have a long-lasting memorable object lesson.

God was always good to my Dad, he continues to be so, and will always be so to every one of us, not least in the day when our bodies and our world will be made new again as the Scriptures say.

Last Thanksgiving was the Last with My Dad

[The last picture we have of my Dad was taken last Thanksgiving. I'll insert it here once we're back in town.] [This is one of the posts telling a story from the life of my Dad. Click here to see the others.]

We spent Thanksgiving last year with my parents. It was almost six months after my Dad's terminal cancer diagnosis, and he was not doing well. He had been unable to rest for months, and he was both more tired and must have been in more pain that any of us were aware of or could imagine. After we were there with him on Thanksgiving, he was in the inpatient Hospice unit of our hospital by Sunday night, and he died on Thursday.

Obviously there are ways in which last Thanksgiving is a hard memory, but as I've been giving thanks this year, I was somewhat surprised that my memories of last year came with a real sense of gratitude:

I'm thankful that we were able to be there with him and my Mom and that it wasn't just the two of them.

I'm thankful that in the evening after our Thanksgiving meal, we were able to tell him that he had another grandchild on the way.

I'm thankful that our last picture and video of him were with our son at his side. They loved one another and brought each other a lot of joy.

I'm thankful that I was there to see how hard a time he was having, as it helped make me ready for him to go. I didn't have any desire to see him have to keep struggling so much.

And on  a lighter but still significant note, I'm thankful that the Cowboys always play on Thanksgiving, and that even if we're with my wife's family in Missouri, they'll let me watch it. It's something that's the same as I would have been doing with him.

In the bigger picture, now that he's been gone a year, I'm simply thankful that by God's grace, life has still turned out to be very good. I couldn't foresee that, because I couldn't imagine life without him. But it's true, and it's one of those things that I can't really explain. I'm okay with that, and really wasn't trying to write this to explain- just to give thanks.

REVEALed: A Lot of People Have Been Here a Long Time Without Growing

[This is one of a series of posts related to the REVEAL Spiritual Life Survey. To see the others, click here.]

In the previous post in the series, I talked about how, although we knew a lot of folks had been in our church for a long time, we were surprised at how high the tenure numbers were: 45% of our congregation had been here for a decade or longer. There were certainly important insights and conclusions given to us from this number, but it isn't even getting into the uniqueness of what REVEAL does. How long people have been here is an easily observable, external thing. Whether they've matured during that time is much harder to quantify, but it's exactly the kind of thing that REVEAL is designed to do.

A core feature of the REVEAL Survey is its Spiritual Continuum Profile, which helps a church's leaders to get a glimpse of the spiritual maturity of their congregation, based upon four segments:

  • Exploring Christ: These people are connected with a church to some degree and exploring what it means to be a Christian, but have yet to make a Christian commitment.
  • Growing in Christ: Despite the segment's name, these people may or may not be experiencing growth. They have come to profess the orthodox Christian beliefs as being true, but still have yet to arrange their lives around their faith in any significant ways, perhaps with the exception of church attendance.
  • Close to Christ: Characteristics of this group include that they participate in spiritual practices with some regularity, and they exhibit higher degrees of love for God and others.
  • Christ-Centered: Their relationship with Christ is the most dominant factor in shaping the lives of these people. It profoundly influences their use of time and resources, their attitudes, their practices, their levels of love for God and others, and their willingness to sacrifice anything for Christ.

In most churches, the second segment (Growing in Christ) is the largest, and that was the case with us. However, as it was with how long people in our congregation had been here, even though we weren't surprised that this was our largest segment, it was eye-opening to see how large the percentage of our people in this segment was: 46%.

So far in this post and the previous one, I've only mentioned information which REVEAL directly tells us, but what follows is my own analysis of the combination of these first two statistics.

So, our tenure numbers indicated that 45% of the people in our church have been here for a decade or longer. Then this number indicates that 46% of our people profess the right answers regarding their beliefs, but still have yet to arrange their lives around their faith in significant ways.

Certainly, although those percentages are very close to one another, there's nothing to indicate that they represent exactly the same group of people. In other words, there's no reason for me to walk down the halls on Sunday morning, pass by someone whom I know has been around for more than a decade, and assume that because they're part of the 45% who have been here for a decade or longer, they must also be part of the 46% who profess the beliefs, but need to start letting it affect their lifestyles. They can't be exactly the same groups of people, but the percentages are large enough that we can safely conclude there's a significant number of people in who would be counted as a part of both groups: people who have been here a long time and haven't grown.

So although we can't put a number on how many people have been here a long time and haven't moved forward, here's my best non-scientific shot at quantifying this group: there's a lot of 'em. There are a lot of people who have made our church their home for years, even decades, without experiencing any significant change in their beliefs and attitudes about God, without growing into greater levels of love for God and others, without maturing as followers of Jesus, without experiencing the abundant kind of life that Jesus said he came to offer us. (I'm using "them" here, but don't worry- I realize "they" aren't the biggest hurdle to our church doing great ministry.)

So what does this teach us, and what can we do about it? REVEAL gave us another great insight that helps to explore those questions, which will be the next post in the series: A lot of people have been here a long time without growing, and don't even know that they should be.

Practicing Thanksgiving

It's good to have this week of Thanksgiving when we're deliberate about stirring up our gratitude. For most of us, it seems like we spend much of the other 51 weeks of the year (not around Thanksgiving) consumed by the few things that aren't right rather than paying attention to the abundance of things for which we can't possibly give sufficient thanks.

An example of this, which you may have heard before, is in the picture above. In his book titled Prayer, George Buttrick wrote,

A lecturer to a group of businessmen displayed a sheet of white paper in which was one blot. He asked what they saw. All answered, "A blot." The test was unfair; it invited the wrong answer. Nevertheless, there is an ingratitude in human nature by which we notice the black disfigurement and forget the widespread mercy. We need to deliberately call to mind the joys of our journey. Perhaps we should try to write down the blessings of one day. We might begin: we could never end: there are not pens or paper enough in all the world. The attempt would remind us of our "vast treasure of content." (as quoted by James Bryan Smith in The Good and Beautiful God, pp. 67-68)

So this week, how do I pay attention to the "widespread mercy" which is always so much greater, so much more abundant, so much more generously and extravagantly given than I am normally aware? Let's say that my awareness of God's goodness to me is normally like a sensation of being wet. On most of my days, it's not like I'm completely ignorant of it, but it's like I have a feeling of walking in a lightly sprinkling rain. I'm aware that it's there, but it's not really stopping me from going about any of my business.

But, when I stop to pay attention, I realize that although I thought that I was only walking in a lightly sprinkling rain, I'm really swimming in the middle of the ocean, flooded by God's good, undeserved gifts to me on every side. When I open my eyes to see it, I feel like I have to open my mouth (or in this case, I guess it's my fingers, since I'm typing) and do the best inadequate job that I can of saying "Thank You" to God.

Buttrick is right. Writing down the blessings of one day is a project that we can start, but can't finish.

A Prayer for the First Sunday of Advent (Year B)

[This is one of a series of Prayers for the Christian Year. To see the other posts, click here.]

Living, loving Father,

Restore us, O God. May Your face shine on us, so that we may be saved.

You are the Almighty God, who has led Your people throughout the centuries, yet many of Your children are suffering today Many are persecuted, lonely, or afraid. Open the heavens and set things right.

Restore us, O God of hosts. May Your face shine on us, so that we may be saved.

Although You have often seemed hidden or distant, for so long, You have shown up at just the right time in the lives of so many who have waited on You. You have done undeniable things among us. You are our Father; we are Your children. You are the potter; we are Your clay. We are the work of Your hands, and we trust You.

Restore us, O Lord, God of hosts. May Your face shine on us, so that we may be saved.

You came to us long ago in the life of Your Son, our Savior, Jesus. His grace continues to enrich us in every way. All that we need to live fully in You is generously available to us through Him, and we expectantly await the day when He will appear again.

Keep us alert and continue Your work of purifying and restoring us until the day when we see Him in His glory.

Until then, we will continue to join together with all of those before us who have lived in Him, praying the prayer that He taught us, saying,

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done,  on earth as in heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.

Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.

For the kingdom, the power, and the glory are Yours now and for ever. Amen

Notes:

The readings for the week, on which this prayer is based, are:

  • Isaiah 64:1-9: Five of the six Old Testament readings from the beginning of Advent through Christmas Day in Year B come from Isaiah. This passage is part of a prayer for God's deliverance in 63:7-64:12, and begins with the petition that God would "tear open the heavens and come down."
  • Psalm 80:1-7,17-19: Part of a prayer to God which pleads for his intervention and rescue in the midst of circumstances which appear that God had forgotten his people. It includes the refrain, "Restore us...make your face shine on us, that we may be saved."
  • 1 Corinthians 1:3-9: Part of Paul's opening greetings in this letter to the Christians in Corinth. In it, he blesses them, expresses thanks for them, and looks forward to Christ's return, saying that "you do not lack any spiritual gift as you eagerly wait for our Lord Jesus Christ to be revealed. He will keep you strong to the end, so that you will be blameless on the day of our Lord Jesus Christ."
  • Mark 13:24-37: The gospel readings for Year B focus on Mark, and the first two gospel readings in Advent come from this book. This passage is part of Mark's account of Jesus' teaching on the signs of the end of the age in the week between his triumphal entry into Jerusalem and his arrest, death, and resurrection. In it, Jesus alludes to Daniel's prophecy and points to the day when his hearers would see "the Son of Man coming in clouds with great glory," and urges them to remain ready for that day, saying, "what I say to you I say to all: keep awake."

Chiropractors and Spiritual Formation

Over the past few months, I've become a believer in chiropractic care. I had always been a bit skeptical in the past, but after a second episode of back pain that made me nearly unable to move, I was desperate enough to give it a try. Pain has a way of motivating us to try things we wouldn't have done without it. In addition to recovering without having to take a single drug and seeing my chiropractor often enough to enjoy getting to know him, I've also seen some parallels between being his patient and my life with God.

First, the Pain Factor: I never would have gone for help without it. Even if the pain hadn't been as bad as it was, I would have gone on putting up with it rather than trying to figure out how to get better.

I've studied the Christian life quite a bit, but even with head knowledge, I find that I don't open myself up to God's grace in the ways I've studied until some level of desperation drives me to do so. Ruth Haley Barton writes about this quite a bit. In her excellent book, [amazon_link id="0830835458" target="_blank" ]Invitation to Solitude and Silence,[/amazon_link] she tells how desperation drove her into experimenting with these practices. She says, "As strange as it may sound, desperation is a really good thing in the spiritual life. Desperation causes us to be open to radical solutions, willing to take all manner of risk in order to find what we are looking for. Desperate ones seek with an all-conuming intensity, for they know that their life depends on it." (p. 30)

The Fear of Death Factor: Having never done anything like it before, it was a bit intimidating on the first couple of visits to let another person manipulate my spine. I've seen way too many episodes of 24 to be able to avoid thinking that this guy could kill me at any moment he wanted to.

Once desperation drives us to open ourselves to God, some of the best guidance we may receive can feel pretty intimidating. We're being asked to do what? To give up what? Sometimes this is intense and other times not, but there's a real sense in which parts of who we used to be are being put to death as we learn to put ourselves in God's hands, and it feels fearful to give that much control over to anyone else. These are the points at which things we are often quick to claim to believe about God are tested. Is God really loving? Is God really all-good? Is there really nothing bad about God? Is God really trustworthy? Can I say as Jesus did, even while hanging on the cross, the words from Psalm 31: "Into your hands I commit my spirit?"

In these moments, we have to remember the desperation that drove us to seek help in the first place, realizing that we cannot continue to get well if we don't entrust our lives into the other's hands.

The Cooperation Factor: From the initial visits to my chiropractor, he's given me exercises to do at home between visits. Ideally, these practices at home would work together with the adjustments he gives me during my visits and enable me not only to continue avoiding my previous pain level, but also to actually recover and live better. My track record of doing the exercises stinks. The reason is pretty simple: Most of the time, I feel good enough without doing them. The work that he does for me when I have an appointment is enough to keep the severe pain away. When I'm like this, I'm leaving the health of my back totally up to him.

I may hit a nerve with this one; at least it's the parallel that has struck the deepest chord with me. How much life are we missing out on when we're content to only show up for our weekly appointment in our lives with God, rather than also actually cooperating with God by doing the practices at home which would allow his work of grace in us to actually become a permanent part of our lives? More specifically, showing up at church is good, and may be enough to keep us from the intense kind of pain that we experienced in life when we were completely ignorant of God. But there are other practices handed down to us that can us, and indeed they're actually essential to our recovery. When we fail to do them (things like prayer, reflecting on the Scriptures, spending time in solitude and silence, fasting, service in secrecy, or many others), we're content to leave the health of our soul completely up to other people.

According to the data from the REVEAL Spiritual Life Survey, this is where the largest group of us in churches find ourselves. We desperately need to learn to do the practices and take our infinitesimal share of the responsibility for the quality of our lives with God. I'm sure that Jesus did not intend to say, "I have come so that they may have life- life that's good enough." No, he clearly wanted to convey an abundance of life that, through him, is available to us. But it requires our cooperation.

I write this sitting at my computer, which according to my chiropractor, may be the main culprit for my back pain. And I write it not having done my stretches or exercises for weeks. So I'd better quit writing before my back starts hurting. It's yet to be seen whether I take some responsibility for how it feels or just wait, again, until my next appointment...