Let’s Talk About Death, Says Noone

Over the last decade, as an Indian-American female growing up in the U.S., I’ve had many conversations with others about my personal experience with grief and loss. While certainly not a warm and fuzzy topic, or even one I’m eager to discuss, it is something I’ve grown comfortable with. My first experience was losing my mom to cancer and then more recently was my dad’s unexpected passing. Each loss has a different journey. 

As a Christian, I have been active in various Indian churches for over 25 years. My perspectives around grief and loss have a Christian worldview. However, let me be honest and say I wasn’t prepared for the early days of grief by knowing biblical theology. For many months, I walked alone through seasons of doubt and unbelief about the very faith that was the core of my life and the God who is central to it.

Desperate Cry

With all the good that Indian church communities are known for, they lack resources to guide believers in this specific area. The Asian community and Asian churches struggle to understand the needs of members who deal with grief. This often spills over into the area of mental health. Looking back, most of my initial conversations about death and dying were with people outside of the Indian community. These are not topics that the Indian culture, especially the church, is comfortable discussing.

In fact, I often felt the only time the church was willing to discuss death was in reference to 1st Corinthians 15:5 “Death is swallowed up in victory.” O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?” Yes, it’s wonderful to know that for Christians death has no hold over us, but the humanity within us needs the church to address the rollercoaster of emotions happening inside a person.

For the most part, I was a private person not looking to let others into my personal life. In the early months after my mom’s death, I found myself opening up to colleagues, grad school friends and sometimes even strangers. None of these were fellow Indians. I was surprised how comfortable I was and maybe it was because I needed to get those thoughts out. The Indian in me wanted to keep silent but the human in me needed community!

Over time, I saw how these experiences broke through cultural barriers and allowed for conversations about restoration and hope. Regardless of ethnicity, the Holy Spirit was actively shaping and forming relationships to be credited to God’s glory.