When tragedy strikes, as it did last week in Boston, many of us turn instinctively to hold and squeeze those closest to us. We feel sympathy and empathy for those afflicted by the loss of their dearest loved ones, and it reminds us to treasure those we love and to unabashedly express our affection. We fully realize how blessed we are by their presence given the fragility of life and the specter of loss.
What Newtown, Boston, and those everyday stories and experiences of loss that never make headlines bring into focus is the intimate connection between love, presence, and joy and loss, absence, and sorrow. Perhaps for the exceptionally enlightened, this can be transcended in some way, but for the rest of us, the greater our love for another person, the more vulnerable we are to the sadness of losing them.
The most profound sadness is most often rooted in love and the absence of the person we love, whether by geography, discord, estrangement, or death. Even if we firmly believe they are in a better place—in heaven, a new city, or simply a new place in their life—their absence remains real.
For those who have lost their precious child, a parent they could always count on, or their dearest friend, the grief can be inescapable and unbearable. And while time may heal some wounds, certain losses can leave a person unable to feel whole and complete.
The alternative to love—a bland, vapid existence—is of course far worse in terms of meaning, depth, joy and fulfillment. Yet this realization in no way diminishes the intensity of how we feel when we are separated from someone we love.
The best response, though imperfect, is more love—to lean on those we love, to lift up those who need our love, to create love where it was previously absent, and to turn to the divine source of all love, the God that is Love.
While loss and sorrow are inescapable in life, not every loss is inevitable. And we are called as a community to take the actions available to us to prevent needless loss, something we all too frequently fail to do.
In our broken world, we will never fully escape the sorrow we risk by loving another person. Only when the kingdom is fully at hand—when God’s love permeates all of existence—will we experience full and everlasting communion, love undivided and unbroken.
This is our hope. This is our faith. In the end, these three will remain and the greatest of these will still be love.