intentional mourning

As I near 30 days since learning my baby died, I found myself rereading a little book I discovered nearly a year ago about Jewish practices and their applications to the Christian's spiritual life. (Mudhouse Sabbath by Lauren Winner)

"[This book] is, to be blunt, about spiritual practices that Jews do better. It is, to be blunter, about Christian practices that would be enriched, that would be richer and more vibrant, if we took a few lessons from Judaism. It is ultimately about places where Christians have some things to learn."

A couple weeks ago, I was flailing about, feeling entirely purposeless and not knowing what to do about it. But even in that despair, I still felt that there should be something I could "do" during grief that would make sense. What I didn't know, was whether that "doing" should be praise, a cry, a prayer or simply doing life as usual (laundry, dishes, diaper, etc.).

Winner (a Jewish convert to Christianity) says that Jews do their spiritual practices with more attention and wisdom not because they are more righteous, but because the DOING, the action, is the center of Judaism. Practice is to Judaism as belief is to Christianity. In other words, your faith might come and go, but your practice ought not to waver. Often, it is through the doing that you may come to hear, to understand and to believe. (Exodus 24 - "All the words that God has spoken, we will do and we will hear.")

In a very dark moment, I remembered Winner's comment that the Jewish ritual of mourning (avelut) provides the direction for what to do during grief. She opines, and I tend to agree with her, that Christian churches "lack a ritual for the long and tiring process of sorrow and loss."

In other words, after the initial consolation calls, meals, shared tears, and when the mourner is still hurting, everyone else goes back to their normal lives. This is not to blame them, because in our Christian churches we have no language for grief or what to do long term, other than know that we will be reunited with believing loved ones some day.

In the Jewish community, mourning is marked by significant days, months and then years. During the days before burial, mourners are exempt from Jewish law requirements like attending prayer services or visiting the sick. Then the countdown starts for them.

SHIVA (seven)
The first week after burial mourners sit "shiva" in low chairs (as Job's friends did - Job 2:13) They sit with others in their community for seven days and seven nights. Neighbors bring food and mourners dress in black, do not wash their hair, or wear perfume or put on lipstick. They don't even leave the house.

SHLOSHIM (thirty)
This time is also drawn from Scripture (the captive woman in the book of Deuteronomy who weeps for 30 days for her parents). This period brings the mourner back into her world. She may return to work, but avoids large parties and celebrations. The month is divided into four distinct weeks - marked by Sabbaths. Each successive Sabbath finds the mourning participating in more. For example on the first Sabbath the mourner will wait outside during the celebratory songs. On the second Sabbath they will stay for the whole service but do not sit in their usual seat. On the third Sabbath they participate in the joyful hymns but will avoid neighborly visitation after the service. And on the fourth Sabbath they become full participants in the community of Shabbat.

YAHRTZEIT (one year)
The central rule of mourning up to one year is to say "Kaddish," a short prayer that begins; "Magnified and sanctified may God's great name be." It is a prayer that is required for mourners to say twice a day for a year. And it is not allowed to be spoken alone at home - but rather in the presence of 10 adults. At one year, mourners mark the anniversary by lighting a special memorial candle, while others might find different ways to honor or commemorate the loss.

Winner says, "This calendar of bereavement recognizes the slow way that mourning works...long after your friends and acquaintances have stopped paying attention, after they have forgotten to ask how you are and pray for you and hold your hand, you are still in a place of ebbing sadness."

What I find interesting about all of this is how Jewish mourners are helped along by their friends and family during the most intense part of grief, yet are still required to, with others, pray words of praise to God. This would probably be the hardest part for me. Kaddish is not a prayer of mourning, but a prayer about God - "Blessed, praised, glorified, exalted, extolled, mighty, upraised, and lauded be the Name of the Holy One, Blessed is He, beyond any blessing or song."

Mourners are not required to feel praise, only to give praise. The sheer repetition of that praise follows along with Exodus 24 - first we will do, then we will hear.

It hasn't been until the past couple of days that I truly have felt "ready" to become a part of my community again. I know that the next months will tick off day by day and milestones will be made. I know that I will endure May 12 (due date) and that God will be with me through that as well. I hope that I can speak the praises of Scripture, even if I don't "feel" them. By the time a year comes around, I hope I can say that I have done and have heard all the words God has spoken to me.