Exploring Myths and Transformation in Grief

There’s a hilarious episode of The Simpsons which shows a grieving Homer zipping through the so-called "five stages of grief" – in five seconds or less. When news of his impending death (the result of having ingested some toxic Blowfish) hits home, Homer is “comforted” with an introduction to the grief process, courtesy of the laconic family doctor, Dr. Hibbert. He tells Homer, “A little death anxiety is normal. You can expect to go through five stages. The first is denial.” To which Homer quickly replies: “No way! Because I'm not dying!” The four remaining “stages” (with “depression” being replaced by “fear”) unfold in similar fashion:

Dr. Hibbert: The second [stage] is anger.
Homer: Why you little...!
Dr. Hibbert: After that comes fear.
Homer: What's after fear? What's after fear?!
Dr. Hibbert: Bargaining.
Homer: Doc, you gotta get me out of this! I'll make it worth your while!
Dr. Hibbert: Finally, acceptance.
Homer: Well, we all gotta go sometime.
Dr. Hibbert: Mr. Simpson, your progress astounds me!

We laugh, but while Elizabeth Kubler-Ross never intended for her classic “five stages of grief” to suggest a uniformly linear, progressive experience, unfortunately the language of “stages” has produced a widespread culture of assumption that this is the preferred way to “systematically” move the grieving person along toward healing. But as anyone who has suffered a significant loss will tell you, grief is rarely orderly or predictable. On the contrary, each person’s experience of grief is uniquely their own: everyone knows “his own pain,” as the ancient wisdom book Proverbs says.

Further, the historic, Christian Faith actually provides the possibility of a more hopeful, less messy experience of grief by providing a strong Redeemer and Comforter – a living Person who calls Himself “The Way, Truth, and Life” – and who enters our world to transform it, by “bearing our griefs and sorrows” (Isaiah 53). His wrestling with suffering, and the looming shadow of the cross is followed by a triumphal resurrection - the source of our hope.

All of this - and His promise to begin renewing all things right now (especially our hearts of stone), as well as a future new creation where death is finally and completely removed, changes everything. No longer do those who look to him need to sorrow “as those who have no hope” (I Thess. 4:13).

Rethinking the Stages
Consider how the classic first stage, “denial,” is transformed. As counselor David Powlison notes, Christ shatters our tendency to drift into denial of loss by actually transforming our dynamic internal trust - our heart’s tendency to put ultimate trust in a person or thing, which we will one day lose - by placing ultimate trust in a strong and loving God.

This re-directed worship (from self to God), as C.S. Lewis points out, also produces a beautiful result right now: it actually elevates our love for that person, as they are no longer placed in a position above God as a kind of “functional savior,” existing primarily to serve us and meet all our deepest needs (a position they were never intended to occupy in the first place). Instead, the person connected to our loss is seen in a whole new light - as a gift for us to love and serve and thank God for - for however long we are given, and also to grieve for the real person and precious gift they were when gone.

Similarly, the “anger stage” can also be transformed. The “shaking our fist at the heavens” response can give way to an honest questioning of God’s mysterious ways, and a deeper, cleaner, and more profound experience of the pain. (See the Psalms, which demonstrate an honest questioning of God within the context of His loving relationship with us and enduring promise to work out all things – even losses – for our good.) In addition, depression and bargaining also begin to be transformed, as our self-referential focus gives way to a focus on a God of grace and hope who promises to one day restore all our losses.

With this foundational re-connection to our Creator through Christ, consider how the following seven myths are exploded and given a whole new trajectory:

Myth #1: “If I talk about my loss, I’ll feel worse…”
You can’t heal unless you experience and work through your feelings of loss. When churches offer grief support groups for their members and the community, they encourage an authenticity and kinship in the mourning process that is unashamed to speak of brokenness. Hope in Christ actually fuels authenticity and the courage to share and help support others, even as we are being supported. We've been personally privileged to run a group we called Bayith Ebel (Hebrew for “House of Mourning” from Eccles. 7:2), and it was a rich experience of exploration, tears, and joy, as we learned to take seriously Jesus’ call to “weep with those who weep.”

Myth#2:
“If I’m sad and struggling with grief I must be a “loser-Christian.”
Shouldn’t Christians be “always rejoicing?” Counselor and author Paul Tripp says it well: “In times of grief Christians should be sadder than anyone else because we know something of how good life was meant to be, yet more hopeful than anyone because of what the cross and resurrection mean.”

Myth #3: “By staying busy or medicating myself I can eventually eliminate my grief…”
God has designed us to be responders (not stuffers) to joy and tragedy, love and loss. For this reason, grief doesn’t disappear, it simply goes underground temporarily and waits to be expressed. After all the attempts to escape feeling the pain (excessive busyness, taking mood-altering drugs, over-eating, or escapist behavior), you will start grieving where you left off. There are no short-cuts. Pain simply doesn’t get better by being ignored.

Myth#4: “In order to process my grief effectively I need to advance through the five stages of grief” (shock or denial; anger; depression; bargaining; acceptance).
As this article has already pointed out, the term “stages” is misleading. The Gospel (good news) of Christ’s forgiveness and formation of a new family in him leads to a better way of grieving with hope.

Myth #5: ”Tears are a sign of weakness. I must make sure I don’t grieve for too long. One year is surely enough?”
Tears actually have God’s approval – they release pain and signal a need to be comforted. “For the LORD has heard my weeping” (Ps. 6:8). Jesus wept deeply and openly over the brokenness he encountered, even though he was about to transform it forever.

Myth #6: “My goal should be to “get over” my grief.”
Hear the words of Gerald Sittser, who saw three generations of his family die at once in a tragic car crash – his mother, wife and daughter: “I did not “get over my loved ones;” rather, I absorbed the loss into my life until it became part of who I am. Sorrow took up permanent residence in my soul and enlarged it…One learns the pain of others by suffering one’s own pain…by finding one’s own soul. However painful, sorrow is good for the soul…the soul is elastic, like a balloon. It can grow larger through suffering.”

Myth #7: “God’s forgiveness is not enough. If I feel bad long enough I will pay for what I have lost.”
Do we ever feel this? If so, we need to hear the word of assurance from Christ’s own mouth, as he hung on the cross – “it is finished!” This not only deals with all our guilt (if we were directly involved with the loss – ie,, abortion, gossip, etc.) – and is the only thing that really does - but also transforms our guilt feelings, which often mislead us to think that our goodness or worthiness could actually eliminate suffering. Yet suffering has a far deeper meaning and purpose for the believer in Jesus, just as it did for Christ himself.

In conclusion, we see that the better questions to ask ourselves, rather than “Am I progressing though the five stages of grief?” are the ones that lead us to a Person, Christ. “In the face of my loss, do I really believe he is good, has personally identified with my loss, and has loved me unbelievably well in the cross?” “Am I moving toward hope (in Him), or deeper despair?” “Am I in a community of hope where wrestling with God can take place, without judgment or condemnation (even as the Psalmist experienced)?” These are Scripture’s questions when it comes to grief, and they are questions couched in grace and meant to move you toward Love (a Person inhabiting real people) – no matter how long it takes.

He Got His Hands Dirty

My forehead feels warm. I haven’t slept well in days. Swine flu fever or not, something’s going on with me. So yesterday at my wife’s urging, I spent sixty bucks on tissues, masks, disinfectant wipes, and alcohol gel. Cleaned out the CVS. (You know, you just never can wash those hands enough.) And with all my compulsive scrubbing, pretty soon I’ll be back for some lotion to deal with the chapping.

But what about my heart? How do I sterilize it from the fear and anxiety which swirl around it every time I dare pick up the remote, or surf the web for the latest developments? Don’t get me wrong. Whether it’s swine flu or bird flu or some other viral nightmare, there are always reasons for healthy caution. Good hygiene is definitely a blessing, especially to all those around you. I’m not advocating a “stick your head in the sand” naiveté.

But do you know what the most frequent command from God to us in Scripture is? Maybe if you come from a fundamentalist background, you’ll be quick to guess it has something to do with abstaining from sex, or alcohol. (“Holiness by abstaining” is the motto in those camps.) But it’s neither. Nor is it “wash your hands before you eat,” which some religious folks actually tried to pin on Jesus (as if the maker of the universe couldn’t tell when his hands needed cleaning). No, actually the most frequent command from God to his overwhelmed, often-anxiety-filled people is “Fear not.”  

Oh really? Easier said than done! But then it’s usually followed by a very strong reason: “…for I am with you.” Hmmm.

Perhaps it’s because anxiety, worry, and fear gets to us all - a nice 100% infection rate. So what if we viewed these things as a real pandemic? I’m starting to think God does – which is why He wants us to know something about Himself that directly meets us at that fearful place. Something big, to give us hope. To soothe and calm our fears. To counsel us with words from a real Person that actually carry weight when he says “it’s going to be alright.”

You see, the God who sees all things, even your worried heart - actually names Himself “Immanuel,” God with us, for just such a reason. His idea is that if you see who he really is - the God who personally comes down and gets his hands dirty in order to love you - it will in fact make a huge difference at the deepest part of you, your essential core, which is your "heart."  

Used over 960 times in Scripture, "the heart"  (which in the ancient world meant the seat of your intellect, desires, and emotions) is described as the real focus of your out-of-control feelings, and which acts similar to a “spring” from a well, forcing your thoughts and beliefs and cravings up and out into specific behaviors. Biting your nails down to nothing, for example. Worrying about the future. Anxiously living for other’s approval, and fearing their rejection. In short, living as if the world is somehow in your control.

If this is true, then what your heart (and mine) needs most are solid reasons for hope – a vaccine that can actually kill the monster of fear (who lives in the closet of your heart) and who threatens to win the day. When we admit that the real problem is we’ve let the monster grow big, and his gaping mouth overwhelms us to the point that we give in to it, saying “you are in control…have your way and just swallow me up,” we need to stop and name the real problem. It’s time for our allegiances to change. And when we see that, we're invited to a better, more hopeful Master and Friend – One who rules wisely, and in love. One who comes to us personally even now, by His Spirit, as "the Comforter" and says, "don't be afraid. I'm here."  

Counseling the fears in our hearts means we name the pretenders. The real God is not the mutating viruses or mucous-spraying coughers who just can’t seem to cover their mouths. Not the CDC or WHO. Rather, it’s the One who rules over all, and so is able to tell us:

God is [your] refuge and strength – an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore [you] will not fear, though the earth gives way, and the mountains fall into the sea… (Psalm 46).

What If I really believed that this is true – that God is my only refuge - even when the mountains are falling? Isn't this the issue -what to do about my trust (faith) problem? Thankfully, the God who gives such a command to “fear not” isn’t into flimsy hopes or inadequate diagnosis, such as pinning the sole reason for your fears on your circumstances (earthquakes, tsunamis, or global pandemics) or your non-nurturing upbringing. Those things matter, certainly, but there is a more central focus, and it’s your heart’s functional trust.

The real remedy for my heart's fears consists in this: tell me again how BIG God is. Tell me again the story of how he walks into the middle of fearful situations, cataloged again and again in Scripture, to calm his loved one’s fears. Tell me again how He describes and shows Himself as Rescuer, Redeemer, Provider, and Friend of untrusting, self-reliant sinners. Tell me the message of GRACE, which he shows to the undeserving, who don’t take him at his word.  

"Faith comes by hearing the Word of Christ," (Rom. 10:17)... so give me a vision of how he got his hands dirty, and even nail-pierced for me, to win me a future. And let me see that believing these things really does produce a community of lovers who aren’t paralyzed by fear, but come out of themselves to love.

Now, when God walks into the room as your loving Father, this is what he wants to know – “What are you really afraid of?” As he asks, you will either shrink in horror at your infected heart, and run away to hide in order to fix it yourself (as Adam & Eve in the garden, and all of us still tend to do), or throw yourself at his feet and weep. And if you do the latter, he’ll lift your trembling chin with his gentle hand, look you in the eyes, and say,”fear not, for I am with you.”