A Mennonite Family’s Grief
I recently read an article entitled “A Radical Grief” by Jana Pruden. It describes a conversation with a man whose life had been ruined by his child’s murder. Because of it, a Mennonite family decided to forgive the man who had murdered their own child. Although many condemned their choice, Wilma, the mother explained their decision years later. “All I have really done,” she said, ” … is chosen to forgive, just to let go of the bad stuff and move toward good stuff. And the rewards for that are overwhelming. Look at our children. Look at our grandchildren. It’s amazing, the beauty.”
Strategies for Dealing with Grief
Spirituality delivers different results to different people. It’s most fulfilling, however, when it beautifies life and one’s presence within it—in short, when it turns it sacred. Profound grief and trauma, which can so often cripple, can sometimes usher in this new and elevated mode of being. (See Making Meaning of Tragedy
How They Did It
In Pruden’s article, she writes, “The Mennonite faith was forged by persecution, and forgiveness is a deep part of the religion and culture. Cliff and Wilma had both been raised to believe in the power of forgiveness, and Wilma says it was “in their DNA” to try to forgive. But to say they were able to forgive because of their faith is far too simple. It was also a radical choice, contrary to their instincts as people and parents, (but) was the only way they could see to save themselves, to ensure they wouldn’t lose their marriage and their family, (as well as) the good memories of Candace’s life.”
Throughout the trial, the father chronicled the event by sketching the faces and gestures of those present. The daughter crocheted circles, using colors that represented pain, anger, and neutrality. And the son, a psychologist, advised his family to remove their shoes during significant moments, “as though in the presence of something holy, like Moses before the burning bush”. In that way, they could transform their grief and the courtroom itself, even in its ugliest moments, into something sacred.
But it didn’t end there. The choice to turn away from the bitterness of the trauma and to actually forgive had to be integrated into their daily lives. Again, in Pruden’s words: “At times, there was pain so intense that Wilma described it like amputating one of her arms without an anesthetic, moments of anger so blinding that she once imagined shooting 10 murderers in retribution.” And according to the father, who suffered through years of community suspicion, “The thing about forgiveness is you have to go to the hard places. You have to be ready to be courageous. I didn’t do this overnight.”
The Possibility of Growth
- Self-Perception. We feel more vulnerable, and yet, we also feel stronger since we’ve survived the worst.
- Increased Closeness to family & friends
- Increased Compassion for others
- Expanded Relationships. It’s not that the deceased has been replaced, but new people do enter into one’s life due to a loss.
- Expanded Possibilities. The deceased’s responsibilities may have to be assumed by the bereaved, which engenders growth.
- Appreciation for life. We determine to live it more vividly or deliberately.
- Spiritual Growth. This pertains to the way we understand ourselves, our mortality, and our connection to a larger reality. In other words, trauma engenders existential questioning, which for many prompts spiritual growth.
Summary
For some, grief can be so shattering that it breaks open our own egos. We then encounter a reality so much larger and encompassing that we are momentarily subsumed by it and forever altered.
Joseph Campbell once wrote, “The psychotic drowns in the same waters in which the mystic swims with delight.” And although we can’t really choose to be either, we can choose where to turn our gaze. Whether we fix our eyes on God (or hope), or whether we fix them on grief, trauma, and despondency, the decision is monumental. It literally determines the quality of the rest of our lives.