This semester I am enrolled in a creative writing course…stop laughing, I’m serious. And, despite whatever preconceived notions you have about a creative writing course in seminary, this class has given me the opportunity to express many deep, theological convictions in ways previously foreign to me. One such opportunity came when our class was asked to reflect upon the Vietnam Memorial Wall in Washington D.C. Not having had the opportunity to visit this landmark, my thoughts focused instead on the idea of mourning loss. It was in my preparation for that writing assignment that I realized our society has lost the ability to grieve well. Throughout scripture mentioning of sackcloth and ashes, wailing, renting of clothing, and utter despair accompany bereavement. Now funerals exhibit starched clothing, manicured appearances, and hushed whimpers as we attempt to add dignity to suffering. It is my firm conviction that mourning plays a purposeful and redemptive role in the life of a believer (c.f. Ecclesiastes 7:4; and verses which speak on suffering, Romans 8:17 in particular) and we would be wise to follow in the footsteps of our spiritual ancestors who grieved openly, loudly, and genuinely. Rejoice with those who rejoice, but, please, remember to WEEP with those who WEEP.
Silent Grief by Nika Spaulding
Hurried tears and gentle sobs escape the young widow.
Induced smiles conceal the writhing hands of a bereaved mother.
Somebody lied to them, to us.
“Dignity emerges in restraint,” paralyzes their sorrow.
Etched names satisfy our need to commend.
But, who receives the honor?
Consideration killed grief.
Reverence excised wailing, but left a wall.
Silence replaced weeping
Sackcloth exchanged for starched suits
Where is your sting O Death?
We forgot how it feels.
