This grief of hope.

Igumen John (Scratch)

Igumen John (Scratch)

This past week has always been a challenge for me and for my family as we remember the passing of both my parents. My mother (Matushka Suzanne Scratch) passed away some 19 years ago on the 10th of January, and my father (Igumen John Scratch) 11 years ago on the 15th . By the Lord’s mercy there is a visible sign of their unity in the timing which they were called. Despite the loss of my parents before their golden years, before they could ever enjoy the blessing of all their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, my grief changed over the years.

In one respect their loss has become easier, less of a burden for me. Time passes; life goes on. Families, work, and the world bring many challenges and blessings that fill the void of such a profound and untimely loss.

It is not as though I do not grieve that mom and dad are not here to see how my children are growing into beautiful and caring people. (My goodness where has the time gone!) I do. But I am comforted by the fact that my children are turning out as they are because of their grandparents’ prayers and intercessions.

It is not as though I do not grieve that mom and dad are not here to give me guidance and advice as I raise a family and serve a community. I do. But I am comforted by the fact that they also struggled to take up their crosses daily (Lk.9:23) in raising a family and serving a community. We are now bearing the fruits of their labours.

It is not as though I do not miss the unconditional love they offered me and many others. I do; and I am comforted that their love for me, for my family and all those whom they encountered, is perfected in the presence of and in response to a loving God who first loved (them) and us (1 Jn. 4:19).

The grief that now fills my heart is a Godly grief that produces hope (2 Cor. 7:10): one of having received a gift that reveals its treasures and blessings in every moment of my life (whether I am paying attention or not); one of having received a gift which builds up and strengthens, brings light and hope; one of having received a full life from my parents, made whole and complete in the saving victory of Jesus Christ. All the while, I know that I am not worthy of such an inheritance of their love, and that I could never offer anything in repayment except my thanksgiving to God.

It has taken me years to see this context in something that hurts so personally. For thanksgiving is the realization that one has been given something one did not have, nor could get independently. This grief of hope looks forward in gratitude, reflecting on what it has received; It declares generosity while confessing one’s poverty. This grief of hope heals our broken hearts through the bitterness of our tears. It is the natural reaction to being loved, even the love of those who have passed away. Maybe that is what makes it so difficult.

Sadly I have forgotten the sound of my parents’ voices, and detailed experiences with them have become impressions and moments. Yet even as the sands of time have eroded details of those memories, the love my parents gave me, my siblings, and family (and not just biological ones) has not been diminished or even swallowed up in death.

The love offered by my parents has been sanctified by the Lord in His love for humanity, reclaiming us by His voluntary assent and death on the Cross, a love made tangible in our descent into the waters of baptism.

The love offered by our departed grandparents, great-grandparents, brothers and sisters, children and friends, is made holy by the Lord’s love that redeems our broken and mortal nature in His Resurrection. This love made tangible profoundly for us, when we are raised up from the baptismal font.

Profoundly, the love offered by people by throughout all the ages is seen to be participating in His pure love, participating in and united with the Source of all love. The Grace of the Holy Spirit fulfills and renews the power of this love in Christians on the feast of Pentecost.

The love offered by my mother and father and all those departed souls around us, has taught us about the Lord’s love, and it is the Lord’s love that has changed the bitter tears of grief over their deaths to warm tears of thanksgiving for His mercy, and my mother and father’s love.

“For since we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so, through Jesus, God will bring with Him those who have fallen asleep” (1Thess 4:13).

MAY THEIR MEMORY BE ETERNAL.

Matushka Suzanne Scratch and her little Scratchlings.

Matushka Suzanne Scratch and her little Scratchlings.