75 years ago, the whole country was watching a newly released Walt Disney full-length animated cartoon. It was one of their biggest hits. The feature song goes like this…
Little one, when you play,
pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
never a tear, baby of mine.
Do you know the movie? Dumbo! That song was nominated for an Academy Award and also used in the movie Beaches with Bette Midler.
What I like about the movie is that is addressed loss. Little Dumbo feels scared, alone. He is in pain. His mother feels pain of losing someone she loves. Then the entire movie attempts to heal the wounds of pain.
Pain is part of being human. Life is difficult. One powerful aspect of Donald Trump’s road to the Presidency is that he exposed the reality of pain in our country. There is pain all around us. Some of you right here, right now, are in pain . . . emotionally, spiritually, physically.
The gospel reading for today addresses the reality of pain. Jesus is using some highly metaphorical and colorful imagery to depict pain all around us. He is speaking about the end of the world, but his imagery could easily apply to today . . . and all the pain in the world.
Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
never to part, baby of mine.
One of the purposes of religion is to teach us what to do with our pain. Life is basically a journey of loving (and being loved) experiencing loss (heartache) and healing. Love, loss, healing. We all are on some aspect of that journey every day of our lives.
Some of us, experienced a deep loss within the past 12 months, with the death of a loved one. In the just a bit, we will be honoring those deceased members from our parish . . . and of course remembering all those people whom we have loved, who have died.
There’s something holy about grieving. Grief is a doorway. It is not a door (that is, a dead end), it is the doorway, the gateway, the threshold for us to move into. Grief work is never completed. It is NEVER done. But it is tough work, for we live in a “grief avoidance” world and we don’t often get support in dealing with pain.
There is no clear time limit of when you should be over your grief. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Grief work might be your life’s work. There are many ways to address grief. I think a powerful action is doing ritual work with your sadness.
Psychologist Carl Jung says, “Embrace your grief, for there your soul will grow.”
We say in the funeral Mass, life doesn’t end with death, it just changes. Those loved ones are still with us. So I always tell those who have lost someone . . . “continue to talk to them, feel their presence, ask for their prayers.” For remember with any of the dead, we never pray TO THEM, we pray THROUGH THEM to God.
So keep talking to them. Pray THROUGH them, with them.
As you know, I am a big supporter of journaling. So I add . . . write to them, write a letter. Tell them how much you miss them and what they meant to you. Perhaps then read the letter at the grave. Burn it. Bury it. Ritual action is so important to help us with pain.
Here’s another idea, write a letter from them to you. I know it sounds weird, but try it. Especially if you are having a tough time with grief. For example, write a letter to you from the deceased person, naming the gifts she/he has given to you. Be creative.
Ritual work can be . . .
-lighting a candle on special days to remember the person, such as her birthday or the anniversary of
the death.
-donating their belongings to someone or to a charity
-buying a present that the deceased may have enjoyed receiving and donating it to someone else.
But the most powerful ritual for connecting with those who have died is the Eucharist. We celebrate this meal, not only with those present right here, but with all those who have gone before us. Each time we gather, we gather with all the saints, all the angels, all the deceased members of our Church and all the members of our hearts.
When you arrive here for Mass, you don’t arrive alone . . . the deceased are here too. When you sing at Mass, you don’t sing just with the people around you . . . you join in the chorus of heaven. When you pray, it’s like those deceased ones say, “Yes, me too. I have those same prayers!”
So we gather at the Eucharist . . . to cry together, to laugh together, to support each other, to pray with and for each other . . . and ultimately to give thanks to God. Thanks for giving us those wonderful people who have been with us, thanks for giving us nourishment for today and thanks for giving us hope for tomorrow.
When we eat the
75 years ago, the whole country was watching a newly released Walt Disney full-length animated cartoon. It was one of their biggest hits. The feature song goes like this . . .
Little one, when you play,
pay no heed what they say.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
never a tear, baby of mine.
Do you know the movie? Dumbo! That song was nominated for an Academy Award and also used in the movie Beaches with Bette Midler.
What I like about the movie is that is addressed loss. Little Dumbo feels scared, alone. He is in pain. His mother feels pain of losing someone she loves. Then the entire movie attempts to heal the wounds of pain.
Pain is part of being human. Life is difficult. One powerful aspect of Donald Trump’s road to the Presidency is that he exposed the reality of pain in our country. There is pain all around us. Some of you right here, right now, are in pain . . . emotionally, spiritually, physically.
The gospel reading for today addresses the reality of pain. Jesus is using some highly metaphorical and colorful imagery to depict pain all around us. He is speaking about the end of the world, but his imagery could easily apply to today . . . and all the pain in the world.
Baby mine, don't you cry.
Baby mine, dry your eyes.
Rest your head close to my heart,
never to part, baby of mine.
One of the purposes of religion is to teach us what to do with our pain. Life is basically a journey of loving (and being loved) experiencing loss (heartache) and healing. Love, loss, healing. We all are on some aspect of that journey every day of our lives.
Some of us, experienced a deep loss within the past 12 months, with the death of a loved one. In the just a bit, we will be honoring those deceased members from our parish . . . and of course remembering all those people whom we have loved, who have died.
There’s something holy about grieving. Grief is a doorway. It is not a door (that is, a dead end), it is the doorway, the gateway, the threshold for us to move into. Grief work is never completed. It is NEVER done. But it is tough work, for we live in a “grief avoidance” world and we don’t often get support in dealing with pain.
There is no clear time limit of when you should be over your grief. Don’t let anyone tell you differently. Grief work might be your life’s work. There are many ways to address grief. I think a powerful action is doing ritual work with your sadness.
Psychologist Carl Jung says, “Embrace your grief, for there your soul will grow.”
We say in the funeral Mass, life doesn’t end with death, it just changes. Those loved ones are still with us. So I always tell those who have lost someone . . . “continue to talk to them, feel their presence, ask for their prayers.” For remember with any of the dead, we never pray TO THEM, we pray THROUGH THEM to God.
So keep talking to them. Pray THROUGH them, with them.
As you know, I am a big supporter of journaling. So I add . . . write to them, write a letter. Tell them how much you miss them and what they meant to you. Perhaps then read the letter at the grave. Burn it. Bury it. Ritual action is so important to help us with pain.
Here’s another idea, write a letter from them to you. I know it sounds weird, but try it. Especially if you are having a tough time with grief. For example, write a letter to you from the deceased person, naming the gifts she/he has given to you. Be creative.
Ritual work can be . . .
-lighting a candle on special days to remember the person, such as her birthday or the anniversary of
the death.
-donating their belongings to someone or to a charity
-buying a present that the deceased may have enjoyed receiving and donating it to someone else.
But the most powerful ritual for connecting with those who have died is the Eucharist. We celebrate this meal, not only with those present right here, but with all those who have gone before us. Each time we gather, we gather with all the saints, all the angels, all the deceased members of our Church and all the members of our hearts.
When you arrive here for Mass, you don’t arrive alone . . . the deceased are here too. When you sing at Mass, you don’t sing just with the people around you . . . you join in the chorus of heaven. When you pray, it’s like those deceased ones say, “Yes, me too. I have those same prayers!”
So we gather at the Eucharist . . . to cry together, to laugh together, to support each other, to pray with and for each other . . . and ultimately to give thanks to God. Thanks for giving us those wonderful people who have been with us, thanks for giving us nourishment for today and thanks for giving us hope for tomorrow.
When we eat the Body of Christ, we are eating hope. Hope that “all will be well again.” Hope that the pain inside us will be easier to endure. Hope that God’s love is stronger than any pain or loss.
Remember the day when you buried that person? Perhaps is so not an ending, but a planting.
Here’s that song again, with some “adjusted lyrics” . . .
From your head to your toes,
you are loved, goodness knows.
I am always with you,
You are with me, baby of mine.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
never a tear, baby of mine.
Body of Christ, we are eating hope. Hope that “all will be well again.” Hope that the pain inside us will be easier to endure. Hope that God’s love is stronger than any pain or loss.
Remember the day when you buried that person? Perhaps is so not an ending, but a planting.
Here’s that song again, with some “adjusted lyrics” . . .
From your head to your toes,
you are loved, goodness knows.
I am always with you,
You are with me, baby of mine.
Let your eyes sparkle and shine,
never a tear, baby of mine.