For years, Toni and Mark prayed for a child. Well in their 40s, their "miracle child" was born. Handsome and smart, Anthony exceeded all his developmental milestones until he reached 18 months. Then, inexplicably, he seemed to regress. Toni and Mark found he has a progressive, genetic disease. Anthony died just before his third birthday. For Toni and Mark, the illness and death provoked a deep spiritual crisis. How could God let this happen? How could He grant their prayer only to later take the child they so deeply loved?
We often think of grief as an emotional reaction, one where individuals may experience a range of reactions such as anger, guilt, sadness, loneliness and yearning, to name but a few. Yet grief is more than that. It affects us physically, sometimes even compromising the health of survivors. It influences how we think and how we behave.
Grief affects us spiritually.
These spiritual reactions to grief can occur to individuals who do not adhere to any religion or even have any theistic beliefs. Broadly defined, the essence of spirituality is how we find meaning in life. For some that involves distinctly spiritual concepts. Others may live by a more humanistic frame. Lisa did. She and her brother Jay grew up in home that eschewed religious beliefs. Yet, they were taught and internalized a deeply humanistic ethos. While the world was, they believed, a very random place, Lisa also felt that ultimately "what goes around comes around." Both Lisa and her brother fervently cared for others. Both worked in human services. When her brother Jay was killed by a distraught, crack-addicted mother as Jay tried to remove children from this neglectful, drug-infested home, Lisa's basic beliefs were shaken.
In the end, one of the most difficult issues in grief is reconstituting faith (or philosophical systems) challenged by the loss. We all have beliefs that give us some sense of security -- that make sense of the world and offer a code for life, whatever the roots. Sometimes a loss deeply challenges those notions, leading to a crisis of belief.
Naturally not every loss does that. Some losses, however much we grieve them, do not challenge our faith. My Aunt Marie died at 92 years old, healthy, alert and active until a sudden tumble down a flight of stairs placed in a terminal tailspin. We missed her terribly. She was the honored matriarch of a large Hispanic family. Yet, our beliefs were not called into question. Though her death was sudden, she had lived a good life. Even in an odd way her death was perceived as "appropriate." This was not a woman who would have done well with a long, debilitating illness.
Yet when losses do challenge our beliefs -- whatever they are -- it is important to acknowledge the normalcy of such a reaction. Sometimes we can feel frightened that we are losing our faith. Yet periods of doubt are part of the cycle of belief. Even C. S. Lewis, the great Christian writer, had moments of doubt as he struggled with the death of his wife. "Where is God when you really need Him? -- A door slammed in your face." Later Lewis could acknowledge that his own frantic need had slammed that door.
In such cycles of doubt and difficulty, it is critical to return, or not leave, our own sources of spiritual sustenance and renewal. Whether it is the counsel of similar-minded friends, the presence of our spiritual or faith community, or the resources, books, rituals and practices of our spiritual discipline, this is a time we need not to sever the connection but rather to strengthen our tie.
Kenneth J. Doka, PhD, MDiv, is a Professor of Gerontology at the Graduate School of The College of New Rochelle and Senior Consultant to the Hospice Foundation of America (HFA). A prolific author and editor, Dr. Doka serves as editor of HFA's Living with Grief® book series, its Journeys newsletter, and numerous other books and publications and is an ordained Lutheran minister.
Hospice Foundation of America is dedicated to helping the millions of Americans each year who cope with terminal illness, death and grief. In 2011, HFA focused on Spirituality and End-of-Life Care with a national education program shown at 1,000 sites across the United States and Canada, an in-depth webinar series, and companion book. HFA offers a range of publications for both professionals and the public and answers thousands of questions each year from family members trying to navigate the health care system. The Hospice Foundation website serves as a well-regarded resource for information end-of-life care and grief.
The Question of God . C.S. Lewis . A Grief Observed | PBS
My Faith: Navigating the land of grief since my son's death – CNN ...
IT was a celebration of love and of a life lived imperfectly and in suffering (she died of MS) but one that left a mark on all who knew her. The service was uplifting the music out of this world and I still get chills when I think about the energy and palpable love that filled that small church.
I later made the observation that the gathering and celebration was her last gift to us; that even in death she was giving to those she left behind for really the gathering would not have happenned otherwise.
It was a gift.
I don't believe in major (or minor) religion and have raised my kids to believe in themselves and take their own responsibility for faith. (I have a son who's Buddhist and one who is an atheist).
When my best friend was killed by a drunk driver when we were 10, my anger was for the driver. It happened just after I had a near death experience where I fell through ice over deep ditch and couldn't get out. I breathed water in and felt calm, happy, warm and bathed in light (and angry when I came back to some woman blowing in my mouth and hurting my ribs). I've always believed death isn't a frightening proposition. (not sure if I believe in life or anything after death but I'm not afraid of it)
When cancer took my parents, I was angry with cancer but also lost some faith in myself, wondering if I could have done more.
I have faith.. but it's a personal kind of faith. I feel a spiritual connection to people and ideals and morality but blaming or thanking a God when my life is mainly just the luck of having been born in a first world country to good parents doesn't make sense to me. Am I any more deserving than a third world family currently starving? Is there a God who likes me more? I don't think so.
Unless....deep down.....
a: Going to see said person again
b: Said person was going to super awesome land
I mean, do you cry for days if your friend goes on a vacation to Disney?
As a non-religious person who's suffered several painful losses, I believe our sadness and pain is entirely selfish. My mom's been gone 15 years and I still sometimes reach for the phone to tell her something and it cuts like a fresh wound. It doesn't happen often any more but it still happens.
My ultra-Catholic mom believed she was going to heaven and yet she gripped onto life (despite the unbearable pain of bone cancer) with everything she had because here is where she had her children and her precious grandchildren.
My non-religious dad went happily forward after arranging with us and his doctor to have his pain ended with a dose of morphine strong enough to end his life. About an hour before he passed, he sat up (despite aforementioned dose of morphine) and began smiling and talking to his mom and brother as though they were in the room with us. He then lay back and had the first peaceful breaths he'd had in about 2 weeks.
Why does anyone bother trying not to die. For an atheist who believes there is nothing, what's the big deal? There's nothing frightening about nothingness but this life is precious enough for the religious and non-religious to want to hold on to.
I've lost a loved one and I've been with many people as they struggled with their own impending death or the death of a loved one. We grieve for life. And no discussion of God's "plan" or any other imposed thoughts can take away that pain.I hated God and still do sometimes. But so what? No one should tell anyone what to feel or think at such a horrible time. Death redefined my spirituality and from my experience, that is the norm, not the exception.
Also, as much as I understand people have had bad experiences with traditional religion, I think discounting it completely is wrong. All my chaplain peers were great care givers who believed in the dignity of the human being first and never preached. Having been with many traditionally religious people( I am open, but traditional)at the time of death I can tell you that there is more to it than the cliches and that a traditional religious experience provides a "way" to care for others and reach out to God( however you define God) and grieve when the chaos of death is overwhelming. It's not the only way, but it's a good way.
"I hated God and still do sometimes"
Whats to hate? The poor craftsmanship during the creation of humans? Not helping the needy? The power? Allowing war? What?
"Death redefined my spirituality"
You are now spiritual because you heard about death? You had a spiritually before knowing about death? Someone important to you died? Whats a short version of death defined spirituality?
I hated God after a family member died. A death that could have been prevented and was pretty rough. And my experience of living through the grief and becoming a chaplain redefined my spirituality.
I'm sorry anyone who called themselves Christian spoke to you that way or attacked you, especially when you were talking about your husband. It's wrong. I dont feel my spirituality is a baby step, but I think many Christians need training wheels! Me included some days.
Hospice uses a simplistic one-size-fits all protocol that can elicit severe adverse reactions while refusing basic medical treatments that can ease discomfort (my mother was not in severe or serious pain) because they are considered "curative" rather than palliative (and Medicare probably won't pay for them). The staff at my mother's hospice were the most manipulative, dishonest, bullying and ruthless medical professionals I have ever experienced. The following is a link to a powerful and moving article describing the serious problems with hospice care of the elderly. It serves as a good guide for what to watch out for. If I had read the article a year ago, before my mother was placed in hospice "care," she could still be alive and enjoying life today.
http://open.salon.com/blog/whatsonemore/2011/04/26/dad_i_really_didnt_mean_to_kill_you
The hospice care my mom and dad had during their battles with terminal cancer was so amazing. Both had care which came to the home in concert with family care. My dad had non-religious care and the women who came were amazing.
My mom's care was half health care workers and half catholic church volunteers - mom's priest, 2 nuns and 2 ladies auxiliary volunteers(also in concert with family) and they were also amazing. We couldn't have done it without the help provided.
I have other friends who've been in full care hospice with very much the same results I've had.
I read the article and I'm sorry to say I don't see it as serious problems. It reads to me more like the broken heart of a child losing a parent and looking to blame someone. The article outlines so many problems her father had and by her own account (though clearly not to her) he was at the very end of his life. The extended time it took to feed him is something family should be taking on as there isn't enough nursing care to provide that kind of care. She didn't want a feeding tube despite her father constantly aspirating. She chose to ignore the pleas and wisdom of the staff who spent every day with him and poured milkshakes down his throat.
Despite excellent care, neither of my parents died calm sleepy deaths... sadly, most people don't.
It is not alright for hospice workers to have told the daughter that her father was not having an adverse reaction to morphine. She had seen his previous adverse reaction. The hospice workers had not. Rather than listening to her, they only stopped giving him morphine when she finally told them that she had called in a relative who was a doctor. Only then did her father have some moments of real rest before he died.
In regard to the author’s refusing feeding tubes, that was concerning his care before entering hospice. I don’t believe hospice generally allows feeding tubes. (They did not use them in my mother’s hospice.) We also don’t really know what someone is truly experiencing when they are not allowed to have nutrition or fluids for days at a time, even when they are heavily medicated. That would be considered starvation and torture under any other circumstances. I’m glad the author poured the milkshakes her father loved down his throat and gave his dehydrated body some relief. I only wish I had given the same kind of relief and comfort to my mother.
As the author points out, it’s also very questionable why hospice would use the very limited number of exact same of medications for treating people with such vastly different diseases and with such vastly different kinds and different levels of pain and discomfort.
This is distressing to me because challenging the apologetics often only serves to manufacture a new set. It ends up strengthening some contrived framework that keeps the individual fastened to a religion.
And further, your question is dishonest in the sense that it presupposes that a person's mental state after abandoning faith can be known before said abandonment.
References
1) Simington, J. (1999). Listening to Soul Pain (Audiovisual).Souleado Productions. Edmonton, AB: Taking Flight Books.
Why? Is your "loving" god going to torture him otherwise?
-- to His unending love for you!
Doesn't sound very unending to me.
1) God can't interfere (is therefore not omnipotent, not worth praying to, perhaps just made the world and left)
2) God can interfere but chose not to (is thus not omnibenevolent, letting innocents die)
note: you can try to justify this one with some strange 'God has a greater plan' which involves letting infants die. This is pretty serious intellectual gymnastics.
3) God doesn't exist, and people die of natural causes. (this one happens to be true)