CityView Magazine

faith An Empty Seat at the Christmas Dinner F by Dr. Robbie Byrd or all of us, as a people, really, there can be no more joyous time, no sadder time than the holidays. The holidays, at their best, can be times of worship. The holidays can be times of communion and contemplation. They can be times of sitting around the table, sharing meals, talking and laughing. The holidays can also afford us moments with the folks we really love, deep down inside. Perhaps folks we may not have been able to see in quite a long time. The holidays can give us opportunities to express our gratitude for the folks we love, who love us—the special people who make our lives worth living. And the holidays can give us opportunity to practice joyful living, when we slow down and rest in the presence of these special ones. But, what if we are one of the many who are about to enter the holidays and we know that as we look around the table this year, there will be an empty chair, where before it was filled with one who was so special to us? all. Even for the loss of a dear loved one to death, three days of leave time from work might be what we get. That is hardly enough time to plan the funeral service, much less begin to know what our feelings associated with loss really are. Maybe, it is not so much that we do not have time for grief; rather, it is that we do not make time for grief. It is, however, understandable why we do not make time for grief. Making time for grief means we acknowledge that the potential of losing what we hold dear surrounds us every waking moment. And so, it is also understandable why so much unresolved grief is out there, if working through grief is working towards the acceptance of this truth. In all the funerals I have been to and helped with, it has never ceased to amaze me that one reading was so often requested. I bet you know what it is—the 23rd Psalm. I bet you also know the words of this psalm so well that you can recite them from memory. As independent, driven and self-sufficient people, it seems as if we really don't have time for grief. Well then, the holidays, as joyous as they can be, can also be a time of great sadness and grief. Grief, for the most part, is an often-misunderstood dynamic in our society. As independent, driven and self-sufficient people, it seems as if we really don't have time for grief. But let me tell you, grief has time for us—plenty of time. And one guess, I have often had, is that many of the folks walking around battling depression in our land—they are really stuck in grief. I don't know if I have recognized, myself, all the times in my life I have been grieving. I believe the same goes for many of my neighbors. We think of the young widow, and we know she grieves for her husband lost in war. We think of the couple whose daughter has died, too young, after a battle with cancer, and we know this mother and father grieve. But do we think of grief when we think of the man who has recently retired after 40 years of working for the same company? Do we think of grief when we think of the woman whose husband has left her for another? Do we think of grief when we think of the child who has had to move away with her family during her senior year of high school? Grief is associated with loss, any kind of loss. We all face too many losses in our world today. I don't think this is the way God intended it to be. But in our world that has been damaged over and again by our own and our neighbors' poor choices— it is a world ripe with opportunities for loss after loss. It is strange that we don't speak more in terms of loss in our everyday lives. In fact, it seems we try not to speak of it at 14 | November/December • 2013 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. At the graveside, most every time these lines have been read, it appeared that some sense of peace washed over the faces of the grieving. What is it in this psalm that evokes such great serenity, even in the turmoil of loss? Well, I believe these words break through the myth that somehow we will be the one that doesn't have to walk this valley. There is comfort in knowing that every one of us will walk it, at some time or other. There is comfort in knowing that it is good to reach out to our fellow travelers, while we walk through the valley together. Peace, though, seems to come as we live in the faith that God walks with us through the dark valleys, encouraging us as we struggle. So for this holiday season, may our prayer be for those who have loved and lost—because this is every one of us. May we pray that we can slow down and really live through the holidays, no matter how joyful or sad they might be for us. And if we find ourselves grieving a recent loss this holiday season, may our prayer be that we would reach out in faith to the special ones who still surround our tables, with the belief that comfort will come when we walk the valley of loss with a trusted friend. And may we pray, too, that we would reach out to God in faith, believing that God will walk with us through the valley, supporting us as we work through the loss, healing us as we go. CV

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