Sorrow, joy, and solidarity

Posted on by livinggodsmission

by Demi Prentiss

Photo by Tim Marshall on Unsplash

My grieving, following my husband’s death several months ago, has not been what I expected. I had never imagined that this time would unfold in this way. I have not viscerally felt his absence; I have been much more aware of my husband’s presence – in beloved possessions he left behind, in memories of good times and challenges and making our way through them, in his legacy of kindness and engagement with the under-resourced and marginalized, and embedded in my heart.

I have often been brought close to tears by a sense of wonder and joy as I recognize the gift I was blessed to receive in our 52+ years together.  So I was struck by Ross Gay’s words from Inciting Joy, as quoted in Richard Rohr’s “Protest, Pain, and Joy” blog post (June 19, 2025):

“What happens if joy is not separate from pain? What if joy and pain are fundamentally tangled up with one another? Or even more to the point, what if joy is not only entangled with pain, or suffering, or sorrow, but is also what emerges from how we care for each other through those things? What if joy, instead of a refuge or relief from heartbreak, is what effloresces from us as we help each other carry our heartbreaks?…  

“My hunch is that joy is an ember for or precursor to wild and unpredictable and transgressive and unboundaried solidarity. And that that solidarity might incite further joy. Which might incite further solidarity. And on and on. My hunch is that joy, emerging from our common sorrow—which does not necessarily mean we have the same sorrows, but that we, in common, sorrow—might draw us together. It might depolarize us and de-atomize us enough that we can consider what, in common, we love. And though attending to what we hate in common is too often all the rage (and it happens also to be very big business), noticing what we love in common, and studying that, might help us survive. It’s why I think of joy, which gets us to love, as being a practice of survival. [1]”

My baptismal vows remind me that God, living and active, is present always, and part of my job is to perceive God at work in the world around me. Through the stability and acceptance of several interlocking communities, I have learned that community can grow from seeds of common sorrow, and can bloom into joy as a practice of survival. Such solidarity – helping each other stand in the storm –  builds a place where together all can belong – children of God, beloved and called.

[1] Essayist Ross Gay, Inciting Joy: Essays (Algonquin Books, 2022), 4, 9–10. 

A Healing Journey — and Helping Others

Posted on by livinggodsmission

by Pam Tinsley

“Alleluia! Christ is risen! The Lord is risen indeed!” is our Easter acclamation. We are Easter people, people of the resurrection, living in the assurance that those who die, live forever in God’s eternal kingdom.

Yet, what about those who are grieving the death of a loved one, especially in times of celebration such as birthdays, anniversaries, weddings, and holidays? What about those who see others joyfully celebrating Easter, yet feel an aching hole in their own souls even though they believe fervently in the Resurrection? Can they, as they continue to mourn, even feel this joy?

Sarah, a dear friend of mine, was widowed a few years ago. Both Sarah and her husband were in their mid-fifties. Both of them expected him to recover from his illness, and when he didn’t, she and their young adult children were devastated. The grief she felt was numbing, even paralyzing at times. Her faith in Jesus and knowing how Jesus had suffered and despaired gave her glimmers of hope. Yet, in spite of being part of a strong church community and participating in a grief support group, she continued to struggle with her grief because, for the most part, the other participants were much older than she.

Sarah also happens to be a gifted writer. As she struggled with her grief, she wondered whether there might be a way she could find healing for herself and, at the same time, help others who were widowed at a younger age. Seeking God’s guidance, she prayed and, with God’s help, she began her “healing journey.” She took a leave of absence from work and went on several meditation retreats. And now she is blogging in the hope that she might be able to offer insights and encouragement to others. As she reaches out to others in their grief, her writing brings her healing moments in her own grief.

As Barbara Cawthorne Crafton wrote in a recent reflection, “Love transforms service, teaching us that there’s no such thing as a menial task. Love teaches us that, if nothing is beneath us, nothing will be beyond us. Love remains with us after our unstinting efforts have all failed — it doesn’t conquer all, as the old saying goes, but it bears all things without turning away from any of them.”

Sarah is discovering how true this observation is. When she decided to use her gift of writing to reach out to others, Sarah may not have consciously realized that she was following Jesus’ commandment to “wash the feet” of others. Perhaps we, too, might experience how our love in Christ transforms us by recognizing a gift God has given us, and then by giving our gift to help salve the wounds of others.