Grieving: Three Stories

One of the great legacies of the New Journalism is the dignified portrayal of all types of people. When done well, it is a wonderful affirmation of the image of God in all people (and often the doctrine of total depravity).

Such writing, I've found, is helpful for me as a developing pastor. It teaches me how to observe and listen well, how to ask good questions. It also provides a sufficiently full picture for me to reflect on each subject, to consider my response to him as if he was my neighbor or a member of my church. Perhaps most importantly, such writing calls from me compassion and sympathy, a first step towards showing mercy.

Here are three very different portraits of grief that I found to be compelling. They are all stories which center around women and all involve health concerns.

The first story, found in The New York Times, is the autobiographical account of a woman in New York as she pursues motherhood through surrogacy.

In the second article, Newsweek reports a growing trend to take infant photos of stillborn children. They profile the non-profit Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. [Photographers: Check this organization out. I don't know how well I could handle it, but what a powerful ministry this is.]

Last, New York follows a young, successful woman in her late-twenties who has been diagnosed with Usher's syndrome. She is simultaneously losing her sight and vision. (Note: According to one of the comments, while published recently, this article was written a couple years ago.)

Can a fallen pastor ever redeem himself?

That's the sub-headline to a Slate.com article on Ted Haggard by Patton Dodd, who was "Haggard's writer and editor for eight years." He briefly narrates the sad tale of Haggard's shifting postures of humiliation and self-justification, but closes reflecting on the limited possibilites open to fallen pastors.

The problem for people like Ted Haggard [...] is that he was in a position of public trust. Once fully lost, that trust can never be fully restored. Robert Downey Jr. can become an A-list actor, ruin himself with drugs, sober up, and become an A-list actor all over again. A businessman, a scholar, or a parent can do something similar. Why can't Haggard? Because his very public career was based on the antithesis of his failures. Downey wants only to be a damn fine actor, and he can be that no matter the content of his character. Haggard wanted to be a minister, a position that makes claims on his behavior—claims that Haggard professed to be equal to. Haggard didn't have to be a big supporter of President Bush, or outspoken against homosexuality, or any of the things that charged his public life. But he did have to have character that was consistent with the values that he so loudly espoused. His life did have to be consistent with what he preached, because preaching is based on public trust within the preacher's community of followers. Integrity is the deal-maker, hypocrisy the deal-breaker.

Most people who fail need only redeem themselves with their most immediate friends and family. They can ask forgiveness of every person they've wounded. How could Haggard ask forgiveness of 30 million—or even the 14,000 members of his former church? Sitting across from Oprah is no substitute for sitting across from those you've hurt. But he can go away quietly, do the work of atonement, and let tales of his renewed life spring up naturally [...].

Haggard can't enter a pulpit, and he shouldn't seek to be a spiritual leader, at least not for eons. He can enter a congregation somewhere, and if he wants to do that, he should, as a fellow traveler with other seekers. And that congregation should embrace him. That's what his spiritual restoration would look like.

Sobering thoughts for all those aspiring to shepherd God's people. These consequences, which Haggard seems unwilling to acknowledge, are present signals of the eternal reality that all pastor's will be called to give an account. With the double honor he cherished comes a double requirement.

May God's mercy protect us from such resounding failure.