The Classics Club: A Grief Observed


A Grief Observed
Author: C.S. Lewis
Publication Date:1961
Page Count: 97

About the Author

Clive Staples Lewis (1898-1963) was an influential and incredibly intellectual author of many books (many of which have Christian themes). He was also a Fellow and Tutor in English literature at Oxford, followed by his esteemed position as Chair of Medieval and Renaissance English at Cambridge until his retirement. He wrote more than thirty books ranging in a wide variety of genres, including children literature  (Narnia series), fantasy (The Space Trilogy), literary criticism (On Stories), Christian allegory (The Screwtape Letters, The Great Divorce), apologetics/ theology (Mere Christianity, The Four Loves, Reflection in the Psalms, Miracles, The Problem of Pain), biography (George MacDonald), and memoir (Surprised by Joy). He is widely revered as a brilliant mind and distinguished thinker and theologian. He came to the Christian faith in early adulthood after denying his childhood faith in exchange for agnosticism (Surprised By Joy is a great book to read about his journey back to Christianity). He is well known for his wit and sharp mind, but was also gentle and friendly; throughout his professional life he sent thousands of letters to fans and people searching for answers in their own faith journey, which is how he met his wife.   See HERE for a timeline of his life and professional writing career.

Summary
A Grief Observed is an raw and unpolished collection of journals written by Lewis in the weeks and months after the death of his beloved wife, Helen Joy Gresham. He refers to her simply as "H" in the book. They had a long history of friendship and eventually married a mere three years before her death after a long battle with cancer. His step-son, Douglas H. Gresham mentions in the introduction: 

"When Jack was racked with the emotional pain of bereavement, he also suffered the mental anguish resulting from three years of living in constant fear, the physical agony of osteoporosis and other ailments, and the sheer exhaustion of spending those last few weeks in constant caring for his dying wife. His mind stretched to some unimaginable tension far beyond anything a lesser man could bear; he turned to writing down his thoughts and his reactions to them, in order to make some sense of the whirling chaos that was assaulting his mind."

This heartbreaking and vulnerable book was not originally written to be published, but rather, Lewis' natural way to process his grief in his "mad midnight moments". He later decided to publish it because he hoped it would help others who were grieving. Though he denies losing his faith, he shares honest doubts of God's goodness in light of his suffering. As he struggles through what he feels and what he knows about God, he regains trust in God's seemingly paradoxical goodness and sovereignty.  

Douglas H. Gresham mentioned in the introduction that it  important to note that this book is called A Grief Observed, emphasis on 'A'. It is not a guide to bereavement, nor a theological exposition on grief. It is simply the reflections of one man's grieving process. If you are grieving or have grieved, this books is not meant to tell you what it should look like. Obviously it will be different for every person, depending on the closeness to the person who has died and other circumstances. It is to be read simply as it was written: a private journal turned into a public journal of his personal experience with bereavement. 

My Thoughts
This was definitely an easier read than some of Lewis' other books, namely Mere Christianity, because it was written informally and flowed like a conversation rather than deep theological text. But at the same time, it was tough to read because you can almost physically feel the anguish Lewis was experiencing. At first, some of his comments about God sounded a but surprising to come from such a Biblically sound writer, and yet, I appreciated that he did not hold back from his dark thoughts during his grief. I believe God can handle our darkest thoughts and most honest and desperate prayers. David and other psalmists cried out to the Lord in their distress, depression, and anxiety. Psalm 22 is one of the most well-known psalms of lament and was quoted by Jesus on the cross: "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer; and by night, but find no rest" (v 1-2). This passage came to mind as I read Lewis' struggle to feel God in his pain:

"Where is God? This is one of the most disquieting symptoms ... go to Him when your need is desperate, when all other help is vain, and what do you find? A door slammed in your face, and a sound of bolting and double bolting on the inside. After that, silence ... why is He so present a commander in our time of prosperity and so very absent a help in time of trouble." (p. 6). 

What a lonely and desperate experience. He does not hide away from the severe pain of his loss, nor the confusion and anger at why God allowed this after so little time with his wife. And yet, he doesn't stay there in the pit of despair. I remind myself often of a quote from Matt Chandler when I am struggling with anxiety or other challenge: "It's okay to not be okay; it's not okay to stay there." Lewis was in the depths of despair. He did not rush through the emotions, discounting them or being ashamed of them. We live in a culture, especially the American Christian mentality, that we have to rush through suffering and brave a happy face so we don't give our faith a bad reputation. Some unknowingly put a timeline on grief, expecting that within a few months, or surely a year, a person should "be over it." But Lewis poignantly says that "grief is like a long valley, a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape" (p 60). He compares the loss of his beloved to an amputation of a limb:

"Getting over it so soon? To say the patient is getting over it after an operation for appendicitis is one thing; after he's had his leg cut off is quite another... He will probably have recurrent pain in the stump all his life, and perhaps pretty bad ones; and he will always be a one-legged man. There will be hardly any moment when he forgets it. His whole way of life will be changed. At present, I am learning to get about on crutches. Perhaps I shall presently be given a wooden leg. But I shall never be a biped again." (pp 52-53).

This uncomfortable visual is chilling, yet a realistic way to show that a grieving person can forever be changed by their loss even when they start to walk again.  That doesn't mean they won't experience joy or love again; but that loss has marked their lives in a way that will be impossible to return to what life looked like before the loss.  His journal of heartfelt, agonizing reflections reminds me of the psalms of ascent, which are characterized by starting off with lamenting and end with praise and trust in what God is doing. Lewis' laments last throughout this short book, yet towards the halfway point, I sensed a change in his perspective of God amidst his grief, an ascent of sorts: 

"I have gradually been coming to feel that the door is no longer shut and bolted" (p. 46) 

"When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But rather a special sort of 'No Answer'. It is not a locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, 'Peace, child; you don't understand'" (p 69).

Wow, that sends chills up my spine and brought tears to my eyes when I read it. Along with resembling a psalm of lament and ascent, it also followed the stages of grief in almost textbook fashion, which I found fascinating. I could see the wheels frantically spinning in his mind as he processed anger, bargaining, and depression. The last sentence of the book didn't show a resolution or end to his grief, which would likely last a lifetime in some degree, but it whispered the beginning of the final stage of grief: acceptance. He was reflecting of her last words: "I am at peace with God", after which, "she smiled, but not at me." He then quotes Dante's Divine ComedyPo si tornò all 'eterna fontana (Then she turned back to the Eternal Fount), which brings to my mind one of my favorite hymns:

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace
Streams of mercy, never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise

The first chapter starts with a description of the physical symptoms of his grief, and I thought it was so well expressed:

"No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear. I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid. The same fluttering in the stomach, the same restlessness, the yawning. I keep swallowing. At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says. Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in." (p. 3)
 
The way he explained what it feels like to be apart from his beloved H. was so heartbreaking:

"One flesh. Or, if you prefer, one ship. The starboard engine has gone. I, the port engine, must chug along somehow till we make harbour." (p33)

I also liked this slightly snarky phrase about how even a good God can allow suffering, pain, and the "torture" of grief and loss. It does not mean He is any less good; it means He knows the purpose and His knowledge of what is best is far above our own understanding of what is right or fair. But it definitely means we are not guaranteed anything, including a long life, health, financial security, or our dreams, which, to be honest, is a bit frightening. I want to trust that He knows best and that He will be with me regardless of the difficulties that may occur, but the reality that those difficulties may include the death of loved ones is something I can get anxious sometimes: 

"What do people mean when they say, 'I am not afraid of God because I know He is good'? Have they never been to the dentist?" (p. 43)

Going to the dentist is not fun, and for some (me included) can be scary. But it is necessary and for our ultimate good to have regular checkups. The dentist knows how to protect us from dental decay. This reminded me of Mr. Beaver and Lucy's conversation in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe about Aslan:

“Aslan is a lion, the great Lion."
"Ooh" said Susan. "I'd thought he was a man. Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion"
"Safe?" said Mr Beaver."Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.”

I absolutely loved this book. Its unpolished honesty and wrestling with faith was real and raw.  I agree with Madeleine L'Engle in her Foreward in the edition I own:

"I am grateful to Lewis for having the courage to yell, to doubt, to kick at God with angry violence. This is part of healthy grief not often encouraged. It is helpful indeed that C.S. Lewis, who was a successful apologist for Christianity, should have the courage to admit doubt about what he has superbly proclaimed. It gives us premission to admit our own doubts, our own angers and anguishes, and to know that they are part of the soul's growth."

God can handle our emotions. He is bigger than our deepest fears and stronger than death and despair. I believe He would rather have our honest and even angry cries rather than a distant apathy or pretense of being "okay" while harboring resentment against Him. Lewis struggled with his faith during this time of grieving, yet he kept coming back to God rather than evading Him. I think that is key. Wrestling with your faith implies you're sticking around amidst feelings like confusion, anger, grief, and depression, rather than deserting God because you feel He has deserted you.  It may not immediately or always feel this way, but the Bible says that "The Lord is near the brokenhearted" (Psalm 34:18). I have experienced this in my own times of difficulties and it was a hope and peace that surpassed my anxious heart and challenging circumstances. During the lonely nights of despair, I cried out honest, ugly-cry prayers to God  and though it was not immediate, I eventually  felt His nearness in a way that was a comfort to me in my weariness. I pray this for others who are enduring their own valley through the shadows, especially those who are grieving loved ones, to not give up seeking Him in their pain. My cousin recently passed away and my prayers have been for his beloved wife and sisters who were all so precious to him. Though my faith was secure in Christ, I found myself asking "Why?" multiple times in the past weeks, even though I knew I would likely not receive an answer. But His silence does not mean He is absent. He is nearer than we realize and more loving, faithful, trustworthy, comforting, and gentle than we can imagine. Clinging to what I know is true about Him  helps me trust in the confusing and heartbreaking times of loss. 


Rating
 

Content Rating
G (no language, violence, or sexual content)

Progress on Classics Club Goal
#2 of 55 books read in The Classics Club challenge

See HERE for my list of fifty-five classics I plan to read in the next 5 years (end date: July 2025)

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