Souls See Best In Darkness
October 2, 2006
Our season of grieving deepened today as we learned one of our professors has begun her hospice journey. She has fought cancer valiantly and lived to see remission and the gift a new lease on life can bring. But the monster has fought back and her cancer has spread. She went home today with the help of hospice support.
It’s easier to speak of death as a journey when the one dying is old, when the one dying is a stranger, when the one dying is ready to go. Today death sounds more like a deep abyss I wouldn’t wish on anyone, especially not this friend.
In a book I’m reading for class, the author talked about how we’ve screwed up our symbols and thereby screwed up our reality. Darkness isn’t bad, he argued, it is necessary. It is in darkness that we rest, in darkness that we dream our deepest dreams, in darkness that we find the strength to continue on.
It doesn’t seem such a big leap for me between darkness and death, so I am clinging to his words these days and hoping they are true even when I can’t believe, even when death, and darkness, seem like the ultimate evil. This is community isn’t it? Holding onto other people’s faith when our own falls short.
It seems true that souls see best in darkness: see the dreams only imaginations allow to be possible; see the light shimmering in the darkness; see the spaces and quiet we so quickly evade in our lighted busyness. Perhaps our souls see best in death as well.
Posted in reflections by Sarah
DennisS said:
October 3rd, 2006 at 10:14 am
“This is community isn’t it? Holding onto other people’s faith when our own falls short.”
Sounds a bit like a tow rope. Maybe more like an invisible rope attached to our souls, stretched through time as we are influenced by the faith of saints of yesterday as well as today.
Maybe I’m too much of an optimist, and I’ve got much more distance from those grieving, but I see death as the chance to walk through the door into eternity with God. When someone is “terminal”, perhaps we should throw a home-going party?
Madelyn said:
October 3rd, 2006 at 11:06 am
I am a lurker - sorry. But I enjoy reading all sides of the issue. What is the title of the book you are reading for class? I’m very interested…Thanks, In Alabama
Sunday's Child said:
October 3rd, 2006 at 11:39 am
Grief is hard and heavy, and I appreciate Sarah’s words.
DennisS, I agree with your thought that death is a home-going, but the idea of a party over-simplifies death and dying and resurrection.
I hope that each person who faces death has found enough joy in life to grieve the loss of our earthly home. They are leaving home as well as going to new one. Death is sad, and it is ugly. It is painful physically and emotionally. It is leaves holes in families that cannot be filled. Grief is very, very heavy, and no one wants to see his or her loved ones carrying such weight. As Christians, we have hope in the resurrection. I can hold on to hope in grief. I can even find joy in the good news of the resurrection. But I cannot celebrate in the midst of such heavy sadness.
DennisS said:
October 3rd, 2006 at 3:04 pm
Very true. Thank you for the reminder of the necessary weight given to being in the pain and grief. I’m reminded how the friends of Job were simply present for 7 days - apparently speaking nothing.
Perhaps “party” is the wrong word for what I was thinking. And certainly this must not be done too soon after the terminal diagnosis.
It seems to me that so many people avoid those are terminal - they don’t know what to say, so they stay away and say nothing.
Yet, we could gather around, light a candle, pray, read Scripture which means something to us, remember that the lost get found, consider what it means to be resurrected, etc.
Tears would be expected at times. Heaviness would be expected, and not taken lightly. Yet there might also be times of bouyancy. This would be a community event - not just one or two walking alongside.
I too had a seminary professor die of cancer. Before she died, she declared that she had been healed. This wasn’t some wayward hope. Physically she was still dying. But her demeanor had changed. She wasn’t about to say “Woe is me”, because it wasn’t about her anymore. She had grieved and had plenty of unanswered prayer.
Maybe it’s the farm background in me, but there is a time when we all die. There are plenty in the rural area who chose Eccl. 3 as the funeral text. There is a time to die. But death is not the end of the story. We grieve the losses, but we are poor at giving spiritual expression to life. There is a time to mourn, and a time to dance.
Sunshine said:
October 3rd, 2006 at 10:00 pm
You know I always love reading your blog, but this post is especially meaningful and beautiful. As one who feels like I am in a dark place in my life right now, I hope what is said about finding our strength, finding rest, and dreaming our darkest dreams is true. I’m also thankful for the faith of my community that gives me strength, even if it’s just a little bit, daily.
Thanks Princess!
Peace