What to say in the immediate aftermath

Eric Erickson on the death of Robin Williams:

There is a time to preach God’s grace and will and “all things work for the good of those called according to his purpose” after the loss of a child. But that time is rarely in the immediate aftermath of death. The family just wants their child, not a sermon of what will sound like empty words in the immediate time and emotion.

In the same way, there is a time to talk about the theological ramifications of suicide, the selfish nature of the act, and the need for Christ and conversations on not just chemicals, but souls. That time too is rarely after the person so dearly loved has succumbed to his inner demons.

Depression is a sound and fury that looks out in a void. It crashes down often over genius and we all lose their greatness at their death. It is tragic because though a choice, the person at calamity’s frontier sees no choice, only a void.

We can spend all day talking about mental health, suicide, and theology, but in the immediate aftermath of such an event, the best theology is often just the quiet act of holding your friend and crying. There is a time for most everything. There is also often a time for reflection and silence and prayer.

Read more here.

I am still angry decades later. My best friend in high school was killed while a passenger in a car heading back to college campus after Christmas break. His mother was the most devout Catholic, and so was my friend. I loved them both dearly. I sat in the front row with his mom as the priest gave a warning about the consequences of sin to the grieving attendees at the funeral.