Resilience As "Turning Around" To Meet The Risen Jesus

O

ne Easter Sunday during the pandemic, Fr Norberto "Kit" Bautista SJ, preached about Pauline Boss, a researcher and writer who coined the term "Ambiguous Loss." In her book, "Ambiguous Loss," she describes this concept as unresolved grief—grieving over someone or something without a clear resolution. During the past pandemic, we faced many ambiguous losses, not just over loved ones who have died but also over the death of normalcy and shattered dreams.

1. Personal Experience of Ambiguous Loss

Twenty years ago, while I was in Beijing on a cultural exposure program, my father passed away. This was my closest experience to ambiguous loss because I was far from home when it happened. When Fr Tom Steinbugler SJ, our Jesuit director, broke the news, it was hard to accept not only for me but for my companions. He tried to console me by noting that my father died on Easter Sunday, saying, “What a good day to go!” He instructed me to pack my things and take the first flight back to the Philippines.

I vividly remember my roommate's reaction. He asked, “Jomari, are you close to your Dad?” I was taken aback and answered, "Of course! What are you thinking?” He shared that he would have broken down into tears if he were in my shoes. Now, I understand that I was experiencing ambiguous loss. I did not know how to express my emotions back then. I resonate with people who still have difficulty mourning loved ones taken suddenly by the pandemic. The inability to say goodbye or see their loved ones’ bodies has left many in a state of unresolved grief, longing to hear their voices and see their faces again. All they can do is watch videos and look at pictures to relive their memories.

2. Mary Magdalene’s Encounter with the Risen Jesus

For Fr Kit Mary of Magdala’s experience on Easter morning encapsulates ambiguous loss. Mistaking the risen Jesus for a gardener, she clung to the memory of Him. If you’ve lost someone close, you can resonate with Mary who was doing all she could to relive her precious memories of Jesus—the one who saved her from seven demons and traveled with her in doing ministries of consolation.

Mary couldn’t accept that the most loving person she knew was gone and, worst, His body was missing. This deepened her ambiguous loss. Jesus’s burial in a criminal’s grave added to her despair. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus took on the responsibility of burying Jesus, which family and friends were prohibited from doing according to Jewish law.

Mary’s ambiguous loss turned to near despair when she couldn’t find Jesus’s body. She intended to perform the burial rituals herself—washing, ritual purification, and dressing the body in a simple cloth shroud. Her situation reflects the depth of psychological and spiritual loss.

However, it also became a high moment of a person's joy.  Mary Magdalene was the first to encounter the risen Jesus in the gospels. There is more. Jesus commissions her to go and tell the disciples about His resurrection, making her the "Apostle to the Apostles."

3. Finding Hope and Resilience in Ambiguous Loss

If you were Mary’s friend, how would you console her? It would not be easy. Every time I go to a wake, I sympathize with the void that the loved ones of the dead are experiencing, I do that mostly in visible gestures of silent presence. Scholars suggest that hope and resilience are key to moving forward from ambiguous loss. Resilience is "bouncing back" or "turning around." Those experiencing such loss must actively seek help in their own way. Mary sought help by running to Simon Peter and the beloved disciple, recounting what had happened. Peter and John, also grieving, listened to her and allowed her to mourn.

As we look into our own dark and empty tombs, we must eventually turn around and meet the risen Jesus. He calls our names in an intimately personal way. Mary recognized Jesus through His familiar tone. This would be the same for each of us, I believe, when we go to the next life and meet face-to-face with loved ones who have passed on. We would be welcomed by a chorus of familiar tones of friends and loved ones. It has been 20 years now after my father's death, but I can still remember the peculiar way he called my name.

Jesus does this kind of calling too to you and to me. Not in the future but in the present, in the here and now. But we must learn how to listen always. Can you recognize that voice that calls your name each time? Do not stop from hearing, turn around to meet Him and exclaim "I have seen the Lord." Amen. Fr JM Manzano SJ