I’ve been thinking a lot about suicide this week--NO, don’t worry--NOT MY OWN!

It’s just that I’ve been hearing about it--on a podcast called Last Day (I highly recommend it if you want to learn about addiction as well), and then in an interview with Jennifer Michael Hecht with Krista Tippet on On Being: an historian, writer, poet, philosopher who writes and speaks on the subject of suicide and its prevention, among other things.

Hecht says that suicide is often thought of in a very individualistic way, reflecting our culture; people will often say suicide is a “right.”

To which Hecht asks, “A right to what?” 

She presses further: “Would you say a parent of young children has a right to kill themselves? What about a teenager?” 

Inevitably, the answer is, “No.”

So who are these people who are supposedly of sound mind and should be allowed to choose suicide? 

Besides experiencing complete despair, many severely depressed or sick people often worry about being a burden to those who love them and think that killing themselves will relieve those around them (and to be clear, we are not talking about medically assisted suicide). 

But both Hecht and the podcaster for Last Day want people to know that a person’s suicide will be exponentially more of a burden to those left behind than their staying; anger, disbelief, and guilt are just a few of the emotions that proceed a suicide. 

This is part of a communitarian, as opposed to individualistic, argument, which says that we are all in this strange and absurd thing called Life together; each of us is of more value than we can ever imagine, and the effect on those left behind--not just family and friends, but even those at a distance, is devastating and among the worst possible things that could happen to them.

Says Hecht: Staying alive means so much more than any of us can ever know. 

Hecht also says that our culture needs to put more value on suffering and survival than we do; we need to honor perseverance. 

Don’t say, “Everything’s going to be alright,” because it’s not true. 

Rather, since there is no avoiding pain, we need to have the attitude that we learn and grow through pain, she says. Our culture teaches the exact opposite; taking away pain is our cultural m.o.—avoid at all cost! 

Not only is there an entire pharmaceutical industry built around masking pain, we have lots of gadgets and “things” to distract us from it and help us avoid it. 

But! Hecht points out that many leaders highlight humbling experiences--their own suffering--and the fact that they made it through, as the thing that allowed them to become leaders; it is our suffering that makes us wise, and gives us the strength to lead, carry and hold each other.

Life is absurd and strange and difficult, as the ancient Roman philosopher, Seneca, said, but we have to stay for each other. 

Now I ask: What if it had been our forefather, Joseph, who, in his misery, had decided his life was not worth living? 

Last week we saw the pain Joseph had been carrying his entire life, trying to forget his misery and loss at being separated from his family, sold and shipped off by the cruelty of his brothers. 

Joseph has been in pits and dungeons: literally, in the depths of darkness. 

Joseph has been through the Dark Night of the Soul, and he wanted to make his brothers feel just a little bit of his pain. 

Last week I asked the question about whether Joseph had been transformed by his suffering in all the time he’d had to think. My answer was that it wasn’t clear.

But this week’s reading makes it clear: he has been transformed. Even though he is still angry, his perception of what happened to him shows immense growth;

...after revealing his true identity, Joseph says to his trembling brothers who had long ago wanted him dead: “Don’t be distressed. This was not your doing, but God’s. If God had not sent me here, I would not have been able to help with the famine, and we would all be dead.”

Living through the Dark Night of the Soul is an act of courage---the courage of a knight, perhaps, who throws himself into battle despite his overwhelming fear---that can have an effect with exponential reverberations that we will never know unless we stick around. As Hecht says, “You don’t know what your future self will be.” 

Joseph’s future self is a rise to power that helps an entire nation and surrounding lands survive a severe famine. Having been humbled more than once, Joseph ultimately becomes a great leader.

The effects of our lives may not be as dramatic as Joseph’s, but the fact is, we really don’t know--again, like the movie, It’s a Wonderful Life! (Merry Christmas?)

Maybe, in the end, this blog post isn’t really about suicide (it’s definitely not about the societal causes of it, or the society we need, which would truly take care of its people), but about ordinary suffering and the fact that, as a culture, we think that if each of us individually just did things right, we would no longer have to suffer—which is, again, a (messed up) individualistic idea that comes from the culture of blame that we are the products of (because it serves certain interests).

Instead, this blog post is really about how much more important each of our little lives is than we think, and that the little things we do and the little ways we are matter way more than we think.

May we continue to hold each other up in our struggle and suffering, because the fact is, we’re in this strange and absurd thing called Life---together.