November 2001

Dear Friends in Christ,

My inability to write about my experiences here in Lithuania seemed to begin with the suicide of my nephew last December. My intense struggle with being apart from my grieving family at that time was a daily preoccupation for weeks. I was oppressed by my inability to turn to anyone who knew personally the beautiful life that was lost and those who struggled with grief and guilt so far away. I felt keenly my distance from my church whose nearness in prayer did not fail but whose physical distance left me without their loving arms and compassionate tears. But, God did not fail me. An unexpected colleague became a wonderful spiritual counselor, and I was given an opportunity to talk to students and staff in chapel about God’s presence in death and overwhelming grief. I shared with them the poem representing my initial response, my return to peace and hope, and my renewed commitment to witnessing to the life-saving hope of the love of God in Jesus Christ.

A few weeks later my suffering and my expression of faith put me in a unique position of ministry. Denis, a first-year student of the college, committed suicide in the dormitory. His death was not only a devastating loss to his friends and family but a terrible blow to the college community. Knowing about the Lithuanian tragedy of suicide, especially of the young, did not prepare us for being involved personally in that tragedy. Denis, although from a Russian Orthodox heritage, did not have a personal faith and his community of friends generally profess agnosticism or atheism. I pray that my response to minister to those who were close to me through compassionate listening and through my personal prayer was led by God’s will. The ethnic Russian students seemed to draw into a community of support that excluded most North Americans. My recent experience, my relationship with students and my decision to listen to the needs the students expressed rather than to respond as my traditions might have dictated allowed students to come to me and to permit me to minister in love to their suffering and confusion.

The Heaviness of Darkness

To those who say denial is first,
I can reply, "God, no!"
I would beg God for denial.
From the first breath in the night,
Before the word, actuality descended.
The word was only "Mom"
But it was a word bearing weight beyond weight.
"Dead" was a blow to one already down.

Grief filled the mind and weighed on the eyes;
Pain filled the heart and choked its beating;
Despair dulled the ears.
Words wedged their way into the crevices of the mind,
Dragged the body to the floor
And it was not low enough.

Then Grief, the terrible thief of dignity,
Stole compassion and left the emptiness of self-pity,
A desperate grasping need for enfolding arms.
Yearning to ease the burden by sharing,
But finding it no lighter. Finding only self-contempt
For weakness, for self-serving need.
Crying out for love, then pleading,
"Don’t touch me. You’ll crack the shell!
I can bear no more!"

Bitter tears escaping unbidden,
Futile tears, not lifting pain’s dull weight,
Humiliating tears crying, "Weakling!
Sympathy-seeker! Leave them alone!
Don’t trouble them with your pain!
Don’t encumber innocents with your loss!"

Then Life, that co-conspirator,
Crept in, snatching away comfort
And leaving guilt.
To eat and sleep?—an insult to the dead,
To laugh and talk?—a sneer at the mourners.

God, don’t smile at me.

Lord, speak to me.
Listening to the wind, I seek for your voice.|
Father, hold me in your arms,
In rain on my face I seek your loving tears.
The darkness is heavy on my soul.

Jackie Bartz
December 14, 2000

Sometimes I wonder if I should have stepped in with talk of Christ, eternal life, the need for faith, the purpose of God in all human action. But a student told me this summer that the reason they let me into their lives is that I respect and care about them, but I don’t push them. Later, he talked with me about his personal faith and concern about the church in Lithuania. Even last week a student came to talk about his lingering concerns about Denis’ suicide, about his responsibility, and about the failure of the community to respond with appropriate respect for Denis’ life. Perhaps patient love is the way God wants me to witness in this place.

In the month between Denis’ burial and the return to the graveside to free his spirit from earth, his burial place had been joined by more than 20 others representing the suicides in that time in only one Lithuanian community, including the suicide of Denis’ seventeen-year-old brother. I ask for your prayers for peace, security and hope that will end this tragic loss of life in Lithuania. I ask also for your prayers for Lithuania Christian College as it attempts to give hope through education and a living witness to Christ. Finally, I ask for your prayers for those who continue to suffer with grief and guilt in the aftermath of suicide.

In Christian Love, Peace, Hope and Joy,

Jackie Bartz

The 2001 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 88