Recently a friend told us part of the story of a bout of deep depression. Fortunately this friend is a well-trained and experienced professional who was able to recognize the symptoms as the depression deepened, get appropriate help, and slowly and carefully move to a safer and better place. The experience surprised her. She didn’t think she could become so deeply distressed.

Hearing her story from the outside, the fact that she became depressed seems less surprising to me. Her life has handed her deep grief. She knows the harsh truth that none of us will escape the mortality of the ones we love. Love never dies. But the people we love do and, for a while it can seem as if the loss is more than we can bear. I know that she will have experiences of the closeness of the one who died that will teach her about that person’s ongoing presence. I know that she will not get “over” her grief, but rather will somehow get through it to a place in her life where grief has changed from the crushing constant presence to a companion with whom she will be able to live. But she can do so only if she survives.

Survivors discover strengths they didn’t know they had. They also learn the power and value of community. There are challenges that none of us can handle alone. At one point in our conversation I was reminded of the power of prayer to connect us with others. When our prayers seem to be failing us, we can be reminded that we aren’t the only ones who are praying. This particular friend has a powerfully supportive network of friends who surround her. Even when we were unaware of the depth of her depression, we were praying for her to find peace in the midst of her grief. And we are not the only ones who are praying.

So often when Christians talk about salvation, we talk about individuals. I’ve heard so much talk, over the years, about heaven and hell and who is going to get to either place as if salvation were an individual experience with people being saved one by one based on their beliefs, or their private prayers and commitments. The bible, however, speaks over and over about God’s desire to save the people - the community. The thought is at once reassuring and humbling. It is reassuring because it helps me understand that not everything is on my shoulders. It is humbling because it reminds me of the limits of my powers. In the case of our friend, she found herself in a position where she wasn’t ready to reach out and call me for help. I couldn’t be there for her in a way that I certainly would have been had I known. The good news is that I’m not her only friend. She had others she could call.

Her story is not and never has been about me.

For many years, I was one of the people who got those calls. Often they came in the middle of the night. I was on the list of who to call when the police were dealing with the intense grief that comes in the aftermath of a death by suicide. I was one of the people who was trained to go to the survivors and offer immediate care. I was up to date on the statistics. I knew the centers of support and the systems of help. I could connect people with resources at a time when they did not know how to make connections for themselves. I knew that without immediate and consistent care some of those who had experienced this sudden and traumatic loss would themselves become depressed and at an increased risk of dying by suicide. I had been around long enough to know the stories of survivors who themselves died by suicide. I had returned to the same address with a knot in my gut and discovered my worst fears were not my imagination.

If you do that enough times, you begin to think that the story is about you. If you are honest with yourself, however, you will realize that although you have been given the privilege of bringing important and life-giving information to another, you aren’t their savior. I think that some of the most important work that I was privileged to do was to work with small groups of survivors who shared their stories with one another, forged friendships, and learned that they were not alone. There is an incredible power in community that can overcome the tendency to become isolated. Nurturing community is one of the most important tasks before anyone who wishes to help others. One of the most gratifying feelings of my retired status is that which comes when I hear the stories of members of the church we once served taking care of each other, reaching out with prayer and support in times of grief, being there with each other in times of disappointment, sharing the work of projects too big for any individual. When the community is saved, the individuals receive the care they need.

In the musical Godspell, there is a song that is presented as a dialogue between Jesus and the chorus in which Jesus asks the question, “When will thou save the people, O God of mercy when? Not kings and lords but nations, not thrones and crowns but men.” The musical comes from another time when the word “men” meant more than one gender and included everyone. We would chose a different word were we writing the song today, but it comes to my mind as an expression of the understanding that salvation is about groups of people. The bible is quick to as for prayers for the nation. In the song, Jesus sings, “The people, Lord! The people! God save the people!”

Our work continues to be about the people - plural. Individuals are saved when the community is saved. Building the community is a process worthy of our best prayers and our best efforts. And it is work that continues wherever we find ourselves.