James, the half-brother of Jesus, tells us that “true religion is assisting widows and orphans in their distress, and keeping oneself from being polluted by the world.”  I haven’t experienced widowhood, but I have cared for many who have.

One 92 year-old woman told me that in her experience directly as a widow, and indirectly, through friends’ accountings, it takes about two years to psychologically recover from losing a spouse.  That seems about right to me, but I haven’t traveled that road.  What do I know?

Some psychologists say that there are no rules or time frames grievers must follow, but I know some sad people who 5 or more years later had never recovered.  And I have heard of some folks bouncing back too quickly, not allowing time to process grief.

In Tolkein’s “Lord of the Ring” series, the beautiful elf-woman gives up her eternal earthly life after she marries a human man.   She knew that someday he would die and she wouldn’t.  She didn’t want to grieve for all eternity.

C.S. Lewis compared marriage to an organism, saying that to lose a member of the marriage is akin to killing a life.  Consider this post by Jane Brody of The New York Times.  Her husband died early 2010.

When asked how I’m doing since my husband died in March, I often respond that I need a 48-hour day. It’s a challenge to be Richard and Jane and still do my work and enjoy my life. I have yet to balance the checkbook, there are piles upon piles of unprocessed paperwork everywhere, and, if not for the help of my sons, I would be clueless about managing my finances.

But I do keep my walk swept, and I’ve cleaned up two large yards, tasks we had always done together. When the man who came to replace my gas meter found a hole leading to the chimney and said he would have to turn off my furnace, I said “No you don’t.” I ran to the hardware store, bought a can of “instant” plaster, climbed to the top of a ladder and, straddling it and the adjacent furniture, this 4-foot-10-inch, 69-year-old woman plastered a rather large hole near the ceiling while the meter man waited and didn’t even offer to hold the ladder.

The marriage, which was active and alive, no longer exists. Though her husband was gone, something else, something a bit mysterious, was missing.  Was it love?  And what is love?

Are hopes and dreams for this life all we have?  When something as beautiful as a 40 year-old healthy marriage is whisked away by death, can we hope for lasting meaning and joy in this life?

Whatever we think of Jesus of Nazareth, we have to acknowledge that his teaching was groundbreaking.  And, we have to deal with his claims of deity.  Although John 8:58 is probably his most direct statement of being God, I think this sentence does the same at least indirectly:  “I have come that you might have life and have it abundantly.”  Only someone with real power could provide that kind of hope.

Through the imprint of the Creator, which we have upon us, we are personal beings.  We enter into relationships, even deep and meaningful ones such as life-long, child-producing, and difficult yet wonderful, marriages.  And in our own finiteness, we long for never-ending joy.  The Father answered our longings by giving the Church (i.e. all Jesus-followers in the universe) the bridegroom, Jesus.  He is infinite.  He conquered the death which induces insomnia and depression in widows, and breaks up our earthly fairytale endings.

Don’t you desire to know that One, this Jesus of Nazareth who wants you to know eternal meaning within a difficult world?