Genesis 23:1-2 says that Sarah lived 127 years before her death, that she died in Kiriath-arba (Hebron) in the land of Canaan, and then it says that Abraham
"went in to mourn for her and to weep for her. Then Abraham rose from before his dead..."
and later, in a strange interjection in Genesis 24:67, we read that
"Isaac brought [Rebekah] into the tent of his mother Sarah, and he married [her]. So she became his wife, and he loved her; and Isaac was comforted after his mother's death."
If we take the text literally, meaning that the writer of Genesis is recording what Abraham and Isaac actually did in response to Sarah's death, and if we assume that he is choosing his Hebrew words carefully to paint a picture as guided by the hand of God, then several things are important to notice here:
1. First, Abraham was purposeful in his mourning and weeping. The text says that he went "for the purpose of" mourning and weeping Sarah's loss. Abraham is following an important custom in his time- it most likely would have appeared strange for him to not do this. But even while following a custom, he is engaging in something very important. He is setting aside time for the purpose of mourning. He is not ignoring time for grieving, nor is he squeezing it in by himself at the end of a long day of funeral arranging and meeting with friends and relatives while putting on a strong front. He is fully and intentionally present for a time of grief. When people asked for Abraham or wondered where he was, they were met with "He is mourning." One large advantage to a specified time for mourning is that it is expected by you and for you- in other words, no one is put off by your absence during your time of mourning. You don't have to explain yourself or make excuses or put on a "brave face." You are mourning, and you have society's permission and expectation to do so.
The great preacher and minister Tom Long once said that "a society that has forgotten how to honor the bodies of those who have departed is more inclined to neglect, even torture, the bodies of those still living." Mourning and grieving the death of a loved one is, in every sense of the word, honoring that person. As I mentioned in my earlier post about the death of my father, I was so wrapped up in myself on the day of his funeral that I missed the many honorable acts that were done to remember him, such as the Sheriff's Honor Guard. My complete lack of grieving in any real sense after his death was in many ways due to a lack of expectation for me to do so, unlike the society that Abraham lived in; after all, who knows what to tell a thirteen-year old kid who just lost his dad? My mom, bless her, had no idea, and I harbor absolutely no anger toward her for that whatsoever. She was working through her own grief also, and I believe her concern for me most likely resulted in less time for her to grieve in a healthy way. A parent is always a parent first, even before they are a spouse, and so I believe my mother always viewed her primary role as helping me through my grief, and so she put her own grieving on hold. All in all, I did not make time for grief, and in so many ways this would come back later, because grief refuses to go unacknowledged.
1. First, Abraham was purposeful in his mourning and weeping. The text says that he went "for the purpose of" mourning and weeping Sarah's loss. Abraham is following an important custom in his time- it most likely would have appeared strange for him to not do this. But even while following a custom, he is engaging in something very important. He is setting aside time for the purpose of mourning. He is not ignoring time for grieving, nor is he squeezing it in by himself at the end of a long day of funeral arranging and meeting with friends and relatives while putting on a strong front. He is fully and intentionally present for a time of grief. When people asked for Abraham or wondered where he was, they were met with "He is mourning." One large advantage to a specified time for mourning is that it is expected by you and for you- in other words, no one is put off by your absence during your time of mourning. You don't have to explain yourself or make excuses or put on a "brave face." You are mourning, and you have society's permission and expectation to do so.
The great preacher and minister Tom Long once said that "a society that has forgotten how to honor the bodies of those who have departed is more inclined to neglect, even torture, the bodies of those still living." Mourning and grieving the death of a loved one is, in every sense of the word, honoring that person. As I mentioned in my earlier post about the death of my father, I was so wrapped up in myself on the day of his funeral that I missed the many honorable acts that were done to remember him, such as the Sheriff's Honor Guard. My complete lack of grieving in any real sense after his death was in many ways due to a lack of expectation for me to do so, unlike the society that Abraham lived in; after all, who knows what to tell a thirteen-year old kid who just lost his dad? My mom, bless her, had no idea, and I harbor absolutely no anger toward her for that whatsoever. She was working through her own grief also, and I believe her concern for me most likely resulted in less time for her to grieve in a healthy way. A parent is always a parent first, even before they are a spouse, and so I believe my mother always viewed her primary role as helping me through my grief, and so she put her own grieving on hold. All in all, I did not make time for grief, and in so many ways this would come back later, because grief refuses to go unacknowledged.
2. Second, the beginning of verse 3 implies that Abraham was mourning and weeping in the presence of Sarah's body. For many of us even picturing this event is a bit uncomfortable for us. Abraham is mourning in the same room as his dead wife? Is that even sanitary? Without going too much into what we know concerning the cultural views about death and the body in the time of Abraham and the patriarchs, it would seem enough to say that Abraham's culture knew the importance of spending time with the body of the person that has died. To do so cements the reality of the loss- this person that we love and have cherished for so long really is gone. We need this firm reminder of the loss in many cases because our minds (and our hearts) are so desperate to fight it, to refuse to acknowledge it on a subconscious level, leading to all kinds of problems and issues later on.
In many funerals today, it seems we are moving away, albeit slowly, from including the deceased in their own funeral! Even at the time of death, most bodies are quickly shuffled away by professionals to be cared for, and their inclusion in any kind of memorial service, wake, visitation, etc. is optional, left up to whether or not the remaining family members feel it appropriate or think they can handle it. Now don't get me wrong, I am not in any way downplaying the enormous significance of what those in the funeral industry do. They fill a gap of great importance in our society, many times filling it even as a kind of lay-clergy for those who mourn and have no church to call home. And in all honesty the growth of the funeral industry is a free-market response to how our society has decided to deal with death; in other words, we created the modern funeral as a response to our own perceived difficulties in dealing with death. But this is, again, a discussion for another post at a later time.
Again, Tom Long reminds us of the theological significance of the body of the deceased being present at the funeral, just as it was for Abraham as he mourned and wept in the presence of Sarah, when he states that our "current shift to a memorial service with the body absent means that Christian death practices are no longer metaphorical expressions of the journey of a saint to be with God." (italics mine) The funeral, says Long, was originally viewed as the next phase of the Christian saint's journey to be with God; thus, conducting a funeral without the body of the deceased would be like celebrating the send-off a cruise ship that was empty of passengers! For me, the fact that I never again saw the body of my father after that rest stop meet-up on the bike rally most likely was behind some of the struggles I would later have with grief. My mother went to view his body at the hospital but I did not. For whatever reason, in most cases, it is both mentally and spiritually necessary for us to observe the body of our deceased loved one- in a way, this grounds our grief in reality. When we experience death, many times our minds work feverishly to construct an alternate reality wherein this current pain and loss is non-existent...we call this denial. Being physically present with the body grounds us in the one reality that matters- the one we are in where we have lost someone close to us.
Again, Tom Long reminds us of the theological significance of the body of the deceased being present at the funeral, just as it was for Abraham as he mourned and wept in the presence of Sarah, when he states that our "current shift to a memorial service with the body absent means that Christian death practices are no longer metaphorical expressions of the journey of a saint to be with God." (italics mine) The funeral, says Long, was originally viewed as the next phase of the Christian saint's journey to be with God; thus, conducting a funeral without the body of the deceased would be like celebrating the send-off a cruise ship that was empty of passengers! For me, the fact that I never again saw the body of my father after that rest stop meet-up on the bike rally most likely was behind some of the struggles I would later have with grief. My mother went to view his body at the hospital but I did not. For whatever reason, in most cases, it is both mentally and spiritually necessary for us to observe the body of our deceased loved one- in a way, this grounds our grief in reality. When we experience death, many times our minds work feverishly to construct an alternate reality wherein this current pain and loss is non-existent...we call this denial. Being physically present with the body grounds us in the one reality that matters- the one we are in where we have lost someone close to us.
3. Third, Isaac finds comfort about his mother's death, seemingly after quite a bit of time has passed, in his taking of Rebekah as his wife. We don't know much about Sarah and Isaac's relationship; the big story in Isaac's life (at least as far as the Biblical text is concerned) is Isaac's "near miss" at the altar with his father in chapter 22. But it's probably safe to say Isaac and Sarah were very close- after all, he was the fulfillment of God's ridiculous-sounding promise to Sarah that she would conceive a child in her old age! He is also her only child, and so their bond was a close one. This is made all the more apparent when we come to the end of chapter 24 and find out that only now, with his marriage to Rebekah, is Isaac's grief over the loss of his mother assuaged! There was a hole left in his life with her loss, and he carried it with him all the way until his wedding vows. It's interesting, too, that the writer of Genesis chose to add this statement about Isaac's comfort, for the reader has surely not given his mourning a second thought. The story has moved on- so should Isaac!
But we know that grief does not work that way. The world around us, our friends, our family, co-workers, society- all say "move along!" But grief anchors us, slows us and weighs us down. But for Isaac, and for us, God provides comfort in many ways- for Isaac, it was in Rebekah. Robert Alter, in his commentary on Genesis, points out that "Rebekah fills the emotional gap left by Sarah's death, as the end of the verse indicates, and with the first matriarch deceased, Rebekah also takes up the role of matriarch in the family. It is exactly right that Isaac should take her into his mother's tent." The symbolism of Rebekah becoming matriarch and marrying Isaac inside Sarah's tent is not lost on Isaac. This symbolism, as all symbolism does, provides some level of closure for him (although I would say that there is no such thing as true closure), and this void has been, in some ways, filled for him. The anchor is lifted; the story, and Isaac, can now move on.
So what is God doing here? As we take the story of Abraham's and Isaac's mourning for Sarah and attempt to identify some theological underpinnings, we must be careful not to:
a) assume Abraham's cultural norms (regarding grief and mourning,or any other issue for that matter) automatically receive God's endorsement simply because we are reading about them in the Bible, and
b) read too much into Abraham's (or any other character's) actions when they are presented without Godly comment, i.e. God does not comment on His own views of what Abraham does or does not do regarding the way he handles the loss of his wife, or about Isaac regarding how he handles the loss of his mother.
So what is God doing here? As we take the story of Abraham's and Isaac's mourning for Sarah and attempt to identify some theological underpinnings, we must be careful not to:
a) assume Abraham's cultural norms (regarding grief and mourning,or any other issue for that matter) automatically receive God's endorsement simply because we are reading about them in the Bible, and
b) read too much into Abraham's (or any other character's) actions when they are presented without Godly comment, i.e. God does not comment on His own views of what Abraham does or does not do regarding the way he handles the loss of his wife, or about Isaac regarding how he handles the loss of his mother.
So, with these cautions in mind, I want to frame "what God is doing" here in terms of what God is providing for Abraham and Isaac in their grief:
A. First, God provides us time for mourning. Again, Abraham makes purposeful time to mourn and weep over Sarah's death. God provides that time for us in the fact that he creates us with an inherent need for mourning. How we choose to deal with that need is up to us.
B. Second, God provides us comfort in ways that might surprise us. For Isaac, comfort came in the form of a wife. (An as-yet not written future post will detail some of the many ways that my own wife has provided innumerable comfort to me during my journey through grief.) When we lose someone close to us, everything is thrown up into the air, and when things "settle down" they do not always settle back in their original places; i.e. our lives do not come back together like a game of Tetris. There are holes and gaps left behind, sometimes becomes something is missing but other times because something has settled back but in the wrong place. For Isaac, Sarah's absence created a void that was filled by Rebekah.
For you, reader, how has reflecting upon the grief of Abraham and Isaac influenced you in your own grief? What similarities and difference do you find? More importantly...
How has God provided you with time for mourning? Did you take advantage of it? If so, how did it help? If not, what issues came about (or are currently coming about) because of it?
And how has God provided comfort for you? Has God used anything surprising to comfort you, something you weren't expecting?
And, finally, in your "new normal" after your loss, what pieces of your life are missing, and what pieces have returned but to the wrong place?
As always, your voice and your story are welcome here. Thanks for reading.
References
Thomas G. Long, Accompany Them With Singing: The Christian Funeral. Westminster John Knox Press: 2009.
Robert Alter, Genesis: Translation and Commentary. W.W. Norton & Company: 1996.
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