Bereavement is quite unlike anything else we shall ever experience. I do not believe we can ever adequately be prepared for the shock, the disbelief, the anger, the guilt, the deep sense of regret, which may follow in its wake. Following the death of his dear wife, Joy, C S Lewis wrote: No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep on swallowing. - C S Lewis, A Grief Observed. Bereavement means to be robbed or dispossessed. A bereaved person is one who has been broken apart, left shattered and desolate, by devastating loss.

Maybe you suspect that eventually a minister becomes hardened to the reality of death. I assure you this is not so. I did know of a certain undertaker who used to carry an onion with him in the car that he would hold up to his eyes just before entering the home of a deceased person, but truly, as pastors we can never become desensitised to the sorrow of the bereaved. If we did, I think we would need to set aside our calling and work in some other sphere.

Whilst all experiences of grief will share certain aspects in common, no two people will have identical journeys - and bereavement is a journey, over a considerable period of time.

Shock and Disbelief
There must be some mistake. It cannot possibly be true. We are emotionally unable to comprehend what has taken place. Our minds desperately seek some alternative explanation. As Job expressed it: If only my anguish could be weighed and all my misery be placed on the scales! It would surely outweigh the sand of the seas (Job 6:2-3).

At this early stage we may well experience physical symptoms such as insomnia, lack of appetite (or compulsive eating), chest pain, panic attacks. Though unpleasant in themselves, these surely reflect the way in which God has made us. They are warning indicators, compelling us to slow down and pay regard to our needs.

The importance of the funeral
The funeral offers a time to let go, and to begin to come to terms with what has happened. We need to realise that this process is only just beginning at the funeral. In some cultures there is often a more prolonged period of mourning, where those most closely affected will wear black clothes - as a mark of respect, but also as a way of saying: please treat me with care, I am still hurting. Certainly, our short time in the Crematorium, followed by an hour or two "back at the house" can seem inadequate by comparison.

Sadly, not every funeral provides the right kind of support for us in our sorrow. Any attempt to describe the life of someone's husband, wife, father or mother within a few minutes is a daunting and impossible task. At my own grandmother's funeral I was saddened by the lack of any personal reference to her by the minister. His only comment specifically about her was: She liked to be known as Ciss. Everything else could, quite frankly, have been said at any funeral. This insensitivity is still mentioned occasionally in our family.

It can happen that the desire to affirm the reality of the Christian's hope of life beyond the grave leads to an unbiblical and emotionally-damaging denial of the importance of grieving. I came across the account of a young woman whose mother died when she was sixteen. She writes of the Pentecostal funeral:

There was lots of triumphalist singing but the one thing I remember above everything else is the pastor's address. He looked down at me, held my eye and said, 'Sister, don't mourn for your mother. She's gone to a much better place. God has called her home. Praise the Lord! And I sat there, desperately wanting my mother, yet trying not to cry because the pastor had told me I shouldn't be mourning.

Every time I felt the tears beginning, for months afterwards, I just remembered the pastor's words and prayed that God would forgive me for still missing my mother. Obviously I was a selfish Christian, as I could not be happy that my mother was in heaven!

Later she suffered a breakdown and took an overdose of drugs, before eventually finding help through prolonged therapy and counselling.
- From Helen Alexander, Bereavement (Lion, 1995).

There can be periods of confusion, when we think we have seen our loved one. We glance the back view of someone in a crowd, or a movement of the head that somehow seems familiar.