Lindsey Graham and the Meaning-Making of Death

I am a chaplain who works primarily with people near the end of their lives.

I have sat in a room with a man whose only visitor was his brother and I have been present with people who died with no one there for them. This occurs for any number of reasons. Healthcare staff and I became the people who helped shepherd them on from here.

The bigger the circle of people around a dying person, I have found, the stronger the emotions swirling around the room can be. I often remind people that, for every person around the patient, there is a different way the death is being experienced. The feelings surrounding the loss of a wife are different from those surrounding the loss of a sister.

Everyone has a different relationship with the person who is dying. One of my roles is to help them all make room for grace and give one another space.

On Sunday morning, when I woke up to see that Senator Lindsey Graham had died, I knew the online conversations about it were going to spread widely across the spectrum of sympathy and celebration. One thing about the internet is that it does not disappoint. My social media feed was filled with colorful and not-so-colorful thoughts, statements and hot takes. All of them were interesting.

While texting with a friend about Graham, they asked me, “Is it wrong to wish someone dead if they’re a bad person who’s actively hurting people?”

I responded, “No. Well. Maybe.” Then I had to think through what a more nuanced response might be.

In those instances when I’m with families whose members have differing relationships with the dying person, it isn’t uncommon for someone to have had a contentious relationship with them or for the relationship to have dissolved completely. This can lead to what is called “distorted grief,” in which grief becomes mixed with guilt or shame.

Distorted grief can occur when we’re not sure how to feel about the parent who abused us but also made sure we had everything we needed. In Lindsey Graham’s case, I think we’re seeing some distorted grief. For example, Hunter Biden talked about remembering the man who, despite Graham’s later years, called his dad, Joe Biden, “as good a man as God ever created.”

But we’re also experiencing collective grief, which is having an impact on all of us. You may not think of yourself as someone who is grieving the man but for lack of a better term, that’s what we’re going through here.

Consider the reality that all of this is coming at a time of another type of grief—cumulative grief. We’ve endured a pandemic, global economic strife, war and genocide, on top of almost daily political theater meant to keep our emotional state heightened.

I ended up telling my friend that I don’t personally, professionally or publicly police the way anyone deals with death. There are people who will. 

I’ve seen plenty of commentary about how we should be civil and kind, followed by rebuttals reminding people of how the president has publicly reacted to prominent deaths and asking, “Why do we have to take the high road?”

Still others will ask why we have to gloss over the things some people would deem evil when someone dies. The deaths of public figures are and always will be tricky. The way I feel about a given actress, writer or lawmaker is going to differ as much as it does with the people I know.

Our experiences with people are unique to us.

When I came to a place where I no longer believed in hell, I was told I believed that only because it was easier for me. It “made me feel better.” 

What I was unable to explain at the time was that it’s actually harder for me to believe that we all end up in a place that is good, where we will encounter God’s love. This is so challenging because there are people I do not think should get that!

I am not asking people to “see both sides.” I write to confess that I don’t know what to do with the emotions surrounding the death of a public figure like Lindsey Graham.

I believe death inherently involves sadness. I also believe he was someone who, for 10 years, gave his loyalty to a person and a party that actively worked to harm the people Jesus repeatedly asked us to love and care for.

Death involves meaning-making, so I understand the people who are celebrating. The meaning, for them, is that he can no longer harm others.

I understand those who knew and worked with him professionally trying to make meaning out of his death by remembering the kindness or humor they experienced from him.

I understand that others are grieving the loss and feeling discouraged and alienated.

I cannot tell you whether one response is right or wrong. I can remind you that Jesus calls us to mourn with those who mourn and celebrate with those who celebrate. While that may not mean actively participating in either the mourning or the celebration, it may mean stepping back and allowing others to experience their emotions as they come.