3 Then Abraham rose from beside his dead wife and spoke to the Hittites. He said, 4 “I am an alien and a stranger among you. Sell me some property for a burial site here so I can bury my dead.”
Grief is one of the most powerful emotions. It can drive us, even as Jesus-followers, to some very dark and lonely places of the mind and spirit. Every fiber of our being cries, “This is not supposed to be happening!” And there is a good reason for this universal cry. When God created us we were never supposed to die. Death was not part of that original plan. So every cell in our body knows death is not supposed to be happening. It makes no difference what our belief system is. The cry is universal. It takes different forms, but there is always the questioning. Sometimes it is simply a “why”. Abraham’s wife of around a century, that’s right, a hundred years, dies. Part of healthy grieving is saying goodbye. And part of that goodbye is some sort of ritual, some way to remember the life. Some cultures do a healthier job of saying goodbye. Unfortunately, here in the US, we generally don’t do a good job. We want people to “get over it” on some specified timetable. We are uncomfortable with our feelings, so we want the other person to “move on.” Some rituals are very healthy. In at least one culture I heard they spend the first year remembering, wearing different clothes and following prescribed ceremonies as a community. Often other cultures encourage public expressions of grief. They are not afraid of public tears. Often traditional Hispanic families have very open and expressive grief reactions. My background tends to hold it in, maintaining a stiff upper lip. Abraham has spent time at the bedside of his wife. Now he wants to be able to remember her with some tangible reminder of her life. He wants a burial plot, some place where he can come to remember her, some place where his tears can be localized and legitimized. He wants to have healthy grief.
The Arnold Journey 