Our understanding of victory in Christ can lead us to champion hope at the expense of making space for loss, says David Oliver. Christians need to be able to express pain and disappointment without judgement 

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Source: Photo by Engin Akyurt: pexels.com

As I sat down to write this article, I received an email from a 78-year-old widow who wrote: “Grief is such an unpredictable and very painful journey, and catches me out at the most awkward moments, as you yourselves will know. I have never heard it mentioned in the Church at all in my life.”

Take a moment to reflect on this. At 78 years old, a lifelong churchgoer has never heard a talk or a sermon on grief. 

Unfortunately, this is not rare.

In the last year or so, my wife Gill and I have spoken at around 30 events titled All About Heaven, which we started after our son Joel’s death. At nearly every event, we have had roughly 10% of every audience come to talk to us, not about heaven but to share their pain and grief. Many had never been able to truly do so with their church leaders or church family. 

Tears of bereavement

Christians often feel - or others make them feel - guilty about long-continuing tears of bereavement. Or at least awkward. Sometimes other well-meaning church members try to share scriptures to help them find peace or move on. Apparently, the comfort of the Spirit should be sufficient. However, the Bible tells us that God “will wipe away every tear” (Revelation 21:4) when we get to heaven - but not neccessarily before. 

In fact, if we look to scripture we see that we are allowed to weep, as Jesus did at the tomb of Lazarus; it is expected. Nowhere does it suggest that comfort removes or ends grief. It’s important that we understand this, so we can give others space to grieve, knowing they are safe with us.  

The expansive teaching on the Kingdom of God has left us with a sanitised understanding of grief

I felt this when Rob Parsons, founder of Care for the Family, visited us after Joel died. He listened and cried with us. He barely spoke and, when he did, he shared a couple of metaphors. However, when Rob left, he said: “I did not know how to approach today, the only thing I could do was pray: ‘Lord, let me do them no harm.’”

That prayer brought the Holy Spirit’s comfort. And his understanding brought validation in the pain. I remember thinking at the time: He gets it. 

Most church leaders and their congregations try to ‘fix grief’ by encouraging people to ‘move on’. Church families are unwittingly communicating the notion that grief is not really acceptable. Those who are grieving instinctively know this is dangerous territory, and out of self-protection, often distance themselves from church – the very place they need to be. 

A sanitised grief

Charismatic churches, house church and, to some degree, the evangelical movement, is essentially a young movement with a victorious eschatology. The expansive teaching on the Kingdom of God, welcome as it is, has left us with a sanitised understanding of grief.  

This means there can be an unintentional discomfort in church circles with anybody who’s not overtly victorious following the death of a loved one. We know the scripture that tells us “we do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope” (1 Thessalonians 4:13). The problem is, a victorious-minded church focuses on this and demands that those of us who have suffered loss only exhibit hope. 

We are allowed to weep; it is expected

It’s as if the Church has no room for grief. Of course, that’s never the overt intention, but it can be perceived as cruel and uncompassionate. Added to which there’s a hidden disappointment, embarrassment or shame around prayers for healing that did not get answered. 

We need a theology that understands how the Bible faces grief head on. A theology that gives permission and encouragement to grieve in any way we want, and for as long as it takes.