My seminary classmates and I find ourselves grieving the death of one of our own. It's been almost 2 weeks now. A week ago Monday I got the call. Actually the call came from a mentor/friend (K) who still works from the seminary and thought I should hear it from a person.
We had known "B" was sick, that he'd had a major surgery. That had been shared via email and egroup. We were getting updates from family and friends who had been to visit him. I sent a card to say that he was in my thoughts and prayers. This was a serious thing, the recovery was so new that it was hard to know how full of a recovery he might make, although there was cause for hope (I guess always room for hope). Because of the baby steps he was making and other reports, it had sounded to me like B was out of immediate danger. So when I got the news that he had arrested, been unable to be resuscitated, and died, it game as a bit of a shock.
I found the next day that I had this heaviness on me, like a thick blanket I was wearing and lugging around with me everywhere, or a little dark cloud overhead. My word for it was being in a bit of a funk. That was Tuesday. The next day, that Wednesday, was a little better, but still felt out of sorts, like a bit of an energy drain on me. In the midst of all this on Monday night, Tuesday, and Wednesday there were phone conversations and emails etc. with other classmates to share information, to touch base on how we were feeling, to let us know the details of the services that were being planned. Most of us live too far to make the service.
At first I was a little baffled and surprised at how the death was affecting me. I mean within my class off the top of my head I can't think of someone who would probably be more of a polar opposite from me. Oh wait, maybe I just did. But still, we were very different people and we were not all that close. There is a small group within my class that I was much closer to and who I still remain in pretty regular contact with via phone and email. If one of those people were to suffer the same circumstances as B, it would hit me very hard.
So I started to wonder was I being a hypocrite? Was I feeling bad because I thought I was supposed to feel bad? What was going on? But then as I spoke to a few others it helped to know that we were experiencing some similar things around this death. And then I gave it more thought and it started to make sense.
It's hard to explain to others the unique way in which a seminary class can be bonded. Thinking of recent readings from Romans about Christian Community, a seminary class is a Christian Community, with it's various members, it's various gifts, it's various flaws that we all bring to it. You become, in a sense, like family, or like people who have "endured" or "experienced" something together, like people that were in the Peace Corps together, there are things that you understand, that you "get" without having to explain. There are inside jokes, fun times, and struggles that you have had in the midst of one another. You have endured boring times, Ember Day Letters, Commissions on Ministry, group projects, and other things together. You spend 3 years together, joined at the hip much like an elementary school class. You take almost every class together (except the occasional elective, and even then classmates may be in there), day in and day out, every day, all day for 3 years. You worship together every day, you eat together a good 4 times per week. You are part of each others learning, part of each other's formation. So, it makes sense that there would be grief. Sure, we all are resurrection people with hope and trust in God. But that doesn't mean that we don't feel the absence of one of our number, of part of the family.
I have heard some news about what B had been up to recently. I think I also grieve for the fact that I didn't get to encounter this version of B, who had apparently finally wrestled with some demons and sounds like he was much happier for it. I will miss his passion, his boldness, and maybe most of all, his sense of humor. I loved hearing that he had planned out his own service, there's someone after my own liturgy geek heart, and maybe we weren't as different as it had seemed on the surface. *grin*
This week was better. I still thought of B, and had some conversation with another classmate who is still processing. But it wasn't as distracting, as much as a preoccupation or energy drain as the first week (no this week had it's own challenges). But it was still there. I think the dynamics in our class will never be the same. The shock of losing B in the here and now will wear off some, but I think just as a family moves forward after a death and yet is never the same, I think our seminary class will likely be like that. I pray that it is some time before we experience this kind of grief and loss again. And B, I pray for you that ultimate peace, healing, and joy that can only come from being in God's presence. Amen.
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