Yesterday’s All Saints recognition in our church was a carefully crafted and well executed worship. There were pictures of the members of the congregation who had died in the previous year and a reading of names with the ringing of a bell for each and an additional tone from the bell to acknowledge the grief of other families who have lost loved ones. In a very fitting meditation on Isaiah 25:6-9, our lead pastor gently acknowledged the overwhelming grief of this time in a year when we couldn’t have the usual funeral lunches and opportunities to embrace each other in our grief. She named the loss of so many, citing the numbers of death in our county, our state, our nation and the world from Covid-19. She also read a short list of other types of deaths that have occurred from disease and from accidents and from age-related causes. She evoked a powerful image of God gently wiping each tear from the cheeks of each grieving person as another falls. And she spoke of so many tears.

Normally, when we worship and when I listen to our pastors preach, I find it easy to get into the flow and follow along with the spirit and the mood of worship. Yesterday, however, I found my mind wandering just a bit. It wasn’t as if I had been excluded from the service. I, too have grieved the loss of those who have died from Covid during the pandemic. I could name the names of friends who have died. I, too, have know those who have died of illness and accidents. I have lost loved ones to the normal process of aging.

Yet there was a slight “hitch” in my ability to stay with the flow of worship because I was focusing on the grief of many I have known whose tears weren’t directly named by our pastor. I know the lack of direct mention was not intentional. I know our pastor shares their grief. But there was something about the cause of death being missing from the list of “all of the grief, all of the tears,” that gave me pause.

Suicide grief is unique for many reasons. One of the reasons it is unique, is that it is so often not included in the list of causes of grief. When a loved one dies of suicide there are sometimes attempts to cover up the cause of death. People hesitate to speak out loud of suicide. There is a stigma that comes from fear and a lack of understanding. I’ve read obituaries of people who have died of suicide that said, “died at home of natural causes.” For a grieving person who has lost a loved one to suicide, however, it is anything but natural. It is a shock and a trauma so significant that those who have lost a loved one to suicide are themselves twice as likely to die of suicide.

As a result of our reluctance to talk about suicide and to name it in our list of the causes of death and grief, those who have lost a loved one to suicide have the mistaken feeling that they are alone - that their grief is different from the grief of those whose loved ones died from accidents or cancer or heart disease. That feeling of isolation and uniqueness, however, masks the reality that suicide is devastatingly common in our society.

Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in the United States. It is the second leading cause of death in 15-29-year-olds and the leading cause of death among college students. It is the leading cause of death of police officers. It is the leading cause of death of persons serving in the U.S. Military. Think about that statistic for just a minute. The people we send into battle, who are prepared to give the ultimate sacrifice for others, are dying of suicide at a greater rate than war injuries, at a greater rate than accidents - by suicide.

Perhaps I am more aware of the weight of suicide loss because of 20 years serving as a suicide first responder. Perhaps I was more aware yesterday because the chilly weather of the Pacific Northwest dictated that I chose a warm hooded sweatshirt to wear to church and the sweatshirt I chose is one that was designed for suicide awareness and prevention. On the back of the black sweatshirt are the words:

“Suicide Prevention Awareness
Supporting the fighters,
Admiring the survivors,
Honoring the taken, and . . .
Never giving up hope.”

The final seven years of my career, I added the duties of law enforcement chaplain to the long list of other responsibilities. I did so because I became aware of how the deputies of our local Sheriff’s Department were themselves survivors of suicide. As I sought to bring hope and comfort to those traumatized by suicide loss, I heard the stories of deputies and understood how they are affected by the work that they do. Suicide is so common in our society that it is a leading cause of trauma for those who serve as first responders. I sought to address their pain in my ministry. I felt a calling from God to be among those who “wipe away tears” of grief and loss.

As part of my responsibilities as a chaplain, I was asked to provide a brief time of training for law enforcement spouses and families in conjunction with the swearing in ceremonies for new officers. In those sessions, I tried to address the fear that is common in law enforcement families. We often think of law enforcement as a dangerous profession. We know the stories of officers who are slain in the line of duty. We know the stories of officers who die in automobile accidents. Statistically, however, law enforcement is safer than a whole host of occupations, including roofing, logging, truck-driving, and commercial fishing to name just a few. I would have been remiss in my instruction, however, if I didn’t name the fact that police officers are far more likely to die by suicide than in the line of duty deaths. It was important for the risk of mental illness and suicide to be named, for resources for prevention to be outlined, and for hope to be given not only to officers, but also to their families.

So I shed a few more tears for the survivors who have lost loved ones to suicide yesterday. I shed a few tears for the continuing silence in the face of overwhelming grief. And once again, I renew my commitment to speak openly of suicide and to do what I am able to keep it from being silent and hidden.

For all the saints who are taken by suicide, and for all the survivors whose lives are forever shaped by grief, I humbly offer my prayers.