One for Sorrow by Alan Hargrave

Author:Alan Hargrave
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: SPCK
Published: 2017-06-16T03:57:05+00:00

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Over the course of Tom’s illness I have gradually been doing less and less work. I am fortunate that, as a vicar, I am pretty much free to do as much or as little as I feel able to. I am also extremely blessed in having a curate, Ank, who, with others from the church, quietly bears the load of pastoral care, of ­funerals, of children’s activities, of worship, without burden­ing me.

Two or three weeks after the funeral, Annie and I turn up for church on Sunday and sit at the back, silently weeping our way through the service. At the end of the service Pete, someone we hardly know, but who has clearly heard all about us, comes up behind us and lays his hands heavily on our heads and shoulders. He prays fervently, in a loud, cheery voice, thanking God for victory over death, praying that the Holy Spirit would fall upon us with power and that everything would turn out OK and we’d go on our way rejoicing. He means well, but I cannot bear it. My anger surges to the surface. If I had the strength I’d get up and deck him! It reminds me of a passage from Primo Levi’s profound book about his experience in a Nazi concentration camp during the war.1 There has been an arbitrary selection of people for the gas chamber. A young man, with a wife and children, who knows he will die tomorrow, lies on his bed, weeping. Meanwhile, an old man, called Kuhn, sits on the next bed, rocking back and forth in prayer, loudly thanking God that he has been spared. ‘If I were God,’ says Primo Levi, ‘I would spit on Kuhn’s prayer!’ That’s how I feel about Pete’s prayer, too.

Most people are kind, respectful and thoughtful. They do not try to change us or the fact of Tom’s death. Rather, they sit and weep with us.

A week or two later, I turn up for an evening service. It is an occasional act of worship called ‘Adults Only’. The idea is to eat together, to be creative, to tackle issues current in people’s lives and to allow time for discussion. It is a small group led, this time, by one of our ordinands – trainee vicars on placement with us. He talks about pain and suffering, but then reads a passage from the Bible which says that, despite the suffering, everything will turn out hunky-dory in the end. ‘Well,’ he asks, looking round at us, expectantly, smiling, ‘what is our response to that?’ No one says anything. I tell myself to not say anything either. ‘If you can’t say anything helpful, Alan, don’t say anything at all.’ It certainly wouldn’t be helpful. I remind myself: ‘You are the vicar, so just let it pass. Don’t take your feelings out on this poor guy who is inexperienced and doing his best.’ I shouldn’t have come. I am not ready for this yet. It is all too raw.

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