“But please, please - won’t you - can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonders of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.
“My son, my son,” said Aslan. I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another.”
The above scene is from C.S. Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew. Digory’s mother is dying. He is desperate to save her but, in his efforts to do so, he has brought evil into the newly created world of Narnia. Aslan, the great Lion King, asks him if he is ready to do what is necessary to undo the wrong he has done. Digory agrees but concern for his mother overwhelms him, leading to his outburst. And in the response of Aslan, Digory meets a fellow sufferer.
Grief is real and it is unavoidable. Every one of us either has, is, or will experience grief and, most likely, it will be more than once. Perhaps it is the loss of a loved one. Maybe it is the numerous miscarriages when your heart aches for a little one to hold. It could be the betrayal of a friend, the loss of a job you love, the wandering child, or the slow decline of a parent ravaged by Alzheimer’s. Grief comes in all sorts of forms and leaves us with wounds that may scab over but never fully heal.
And like Digory, we cry out to God, “Won’t you, can’t you do something?” And his reply is not always to make things better in the here and now. Instead, our God tells us that He understands, that He knows that grief is great. This is why Isaiah tells us that the coming Messiah will be despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief (53:3). But his experience of sorrows and griefs equips him to be one who can minister to those who are grieving. Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows (Isaiah 53:4). This is why he can be to us the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort which we ourselves are comforted by God (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).
Saints, the right response to grief is not denial and isolation, which is too often what we do. Instead, our God tells us to come to Him with our grief, to draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need (Hebrews 4:16). And it is why I long for us to be a community of believers who weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). When Digory brought his grief to Aslan, one who also knew grief, the Lion drew a deep breath, stooped its head even lower and gave him a Lion’s kiss. And at once Digory felt that new strength and courage had gone into him. Bring your grief to Jesus, the man of sorrows, and you will find rest for your souls (Matthew 11:29).
