The theme of this post may seem maudlin to first time readers, but I assure you, the next posts will become lighter.
Since April 2007, I have been grieving the ‘loss’ of a friend whose presence in my life brought me to a spiritual path. Chris was a dear friend of mine, we came to know one another through the official George Harrison forum. Her being in Argentina and my being in the UK precluded any physical meeting, but I’d like to think we met on a soul level, where it matters.
Anyway, the title of this post alludes to the fact that I have been trying to reconcile my Eastern religious leanings with a very Western grieving process, complicated by a number of factors – the physical distance and being unable to attend a funeral being two of these.
I think fondly of the passage in the Bhagavad Gita which states:
There never was a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor any of these kings, nor will there be any future where we cease to be. - chapter two, verse eighteen.
Krishna’s words to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kuruksetra have brought me a little comfort in this time of suffering, but trying to reconcile the Eastern knowing (Chris was, or seemed to be Hindu) with the Western grieving has been challenging.
So, if you have any opinions on how a person of faith can reconcile faith and grief, feel free to chime in.
- Should faith preclude grief?
Does faith preclude grief? No.
SHOULD it? No.
Can it make grief easier to bear? Yes.
The Greeks had two words for time: Chronos, which is the measurable clock time, and Kairos, which is outside measurable time. Kairos is God’s time, the Eternal Now. The liturgy of my church begins with the words Kairos tou poiesai to Kyrio (“It is time [kairos] for the Lord to act”): The clock time of the Liturgy is an intersection with the Eternal Now.
I live in Chronos, in the human now. Nick is not here, he is not with us at meal time, he is not helping me rear the boys, he is not holding my hand on the streets, he is not sharing my thoughts, secrets, dreams. He is dead, and his death left an unfathomable hole in my life, brought inexpressible pain to my heart. Belief in Eternity does not mitigate that pain or fill that hole.
However, when I can allow myself to be in the Eternal Now, when I can remember that Nick is forever and always a part of me and I of him — which means that he is with me Now and I am with him Now — then yes, my faith does make this easier.
Should my faith PRECLUDE my grief? No. Because that would mean that the human now is less important than the Eternal Now. That would mean that the time Nick and I shared — as husband and wife, as two people building one life, as two people parenting two children — somehow has less value than Eternity.
And I cannot believe that.
Wow. Thanks, Alicia. I’m amazed to learn about the two different words for time. ‘Belief in Eternity does not mitigate that pain or fill that hole.’ I hear you there. I guess there’s a part of me still looking for some kind of magic ‘cure’. I know, though, that (however unlikely) if I woke tomorrow and felt the weight of grief lifted, there’d be a guilt. Something to do with forgetting the part of the experience I learned the most from. The attachment to her is linked to an attachment to the experience. Lose one, I lose both. I don’t know what happens in my head, but that’s what the thought process is. Thanks again for taking the time to reply.