Faith and bereavement

In the first of our series on the role of faith in bereavement, the Chief Executive of Cruse Bereave

When Cruse, the bereavement support charity, was founded 50 years ago, the name was taken from an Old Testament story in which Elijah asked a widow to give him some oil from her cruse (vessel). Because she generously shared the little she had, the prophet ensured that her cruse would never run dry. As Cruse Bereavement Care celebrates its golden jubilee, the story is a reminder of the reliance on religious faith which was then the foundation of society’s response to death and bereavement.

Although Cruse is a non-religious organisation providing free and confidential support to people of all faiths and none, there is still a strong recognition of the importance of religious faith for many who are coping with the anguish of having lost a loved one.

The death of someone close disrupts the grieving person’s inner world of meaning. Faith may provide a way of living hopefully and finding the things which give life a new sense.

During the process of bereavement faith can help to acknowledge the reality of the loss experienced and to reconstruct life, valuing the things of the past and reaching out for new meaning in the future.

Belief in an afterlife and in eventual reunion with those who have gone before can bring comfort and the view that death has a purpose and is not a random, meaningless event, can be reassuring. Spiritual advisors can be an important source of support.

The strong religious beliefs that some people have may however, do little to ease their pain and grief.

Whether beliefs are mature and intellectually robust or less well-defined they will almost certainly be challenged.

Bereavement may strengthen or undermine religious beliefs. In the latter case, loss of faith may cut people off from support networks previously important to them.

In an increasingly secular society, those who are bereaved may turn to counselling or therapists as a way of coping with their bereavement.

In the multi-cultural society in which we now live, there is a diversity of communities and religious traditions, with differing expectations and beliefs surrounding death and bereavement. How people cope with this most challenging life event will depend on a combination of factors including beliefs, the circumstances of the bereavement, their own vulnerabilities and the support available.

Various religious traditions offer resources for facing the experience of death and bereavement, upheld by their rituals and customs.

Death is a fact of life, which is being increasingly recognised in government, caring agencies and faith groups.

A number of recent government initiatives aim to address the experience of bereaved people. The reform of the coroner system will mean that the standards of service that bereaved people can expect will be set out for the first time. The government’s End of Life Care Strategy recognises not only the importance of care at each stage as the end of life approaches, but of appropriate care and support to those who have been bereaved.

A critical issue in the successful resolution of bereavement is the availability of a support network provided by, for example, family, a faith community and bereavement care agencies such as Cruse. Cruse is optimistic that, as we look more carefully as a society at the full spectrum of services needed to ensure health and well-being, the needs of those affected by the 500,000 deaths a year in the UK – one a minute – will increasingly be recognised and met. As an organisation with nearly 6,000 volunteers and unrivalled experience in the field, Cruse remains uniquely well–placed to deliver the support and services needed.

Debbie Kerslake is Chief Executive of Cruse Bereavement Care

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I am special and I am worthless: inside the mind of a narcissist

There's been a lot of discussion about narcissists this week. But what does the term actually mean?

Since the rise of Donald Trump, the term “narcissistic” has been cropping up with great regularity in certain sections of the media, including the pages of this journal. I wouldn’t want to comment about an individual I’ve never met, but I thought it would be interesting to look at the troubling psychological health problem of narcissistic personality disorder (NPD).

People with NPD (which is estimated to affect about 1 per cent of the population) have a characteristic set of personality traits. First, they have a deeply held sense of specialness and entitlement. Male NPD sufferers frequently present as highly egotistical, with an unshakeable sense of their superiority and importance; female sufferers commonly present as eternal victims on whom the world repeatedly inflicts terrible injustices. In both cases, the affected person believes he or she is deserving of privileged treatment, and expects it as a right from those around them.

Second, NPD sufferers have little or no capacity for empathy, and usually relate to other people as objects (as opposed to thinking, feeling beings) whose sole function is to meet the narcissist’s need for special treatment and admiration – known as “supply”. In order to recruit supply, NPD sufferers become highly skilled at manipulating people’s perceptions of them, acting out what is called a “false self” – the glittering high achiever, the indefatigable do-gooder, the pitiable victim.

The third characteristic is termed “splitting”, where the world is experienced in terms of two rigid categories – either Good or Bad – with no areas of grey. As long as others are meeting the narcissist’s need for supply, they are Good, and they find themselves idealised and showered with reciprocal positive affirmation – a process called “love-bombing”. However, if someone criticises or questions the narcissist’s false self, that person becomes Bad, and is subjected to implacable hostility.

It is not known for certain what triggers the disorder. There is likely to be a genetic component, but in many cases early life experiences are the primary cause. Narcissism is a natural phase of child development (as the parents of many teenagers will testify) and its persistence as adult NPD frequently reflects chronic trauma during childhood. Paradoxically for a condition that often manifests as apparent egotism, all NPD sufferers have virtually non-existent self-esteem. This may arise from ongoing emotional neglect on the part of parents or caregivers, or from sustained psychological or sexual abuse.

The common factor is a failure in the development of a healthy sense of self-worth. It is likely that narcissism becomes entrenched as a defence against the deep-seated shame associated with these experiences of being unworthy and valueless.

When surrounded by supply, the NPD sufferer can anaesthetise this horrible sense of shame with the waves of positive regard washing over them. Equally, when another person destabilises that supply (by criticising or questioning the narcissist’s false self) this is highly threatening, and the NPD sufferer will go to practically any lengths to prevent a destabiliser adversely influencing other people’s perceptions of the narcissist.

One of the many tragic aspects of NPD is the invariable lack of insight. A narcissist’s experience of the world is essentially: “I am special; some people love me for this, and are Good; some people hate me for it, and are Bad.” If people with NPD do present to health services, it is usually because of the negative impacts Bad people are having on their life, rather than because they are able to recognise that they have a psychological health problem.

Far more commonly, health professionals end up helping those who have had the misfortune to enter into a supply relationship with an NPD sufferer. Narcissism is one of the most frequent factors in intimate partner and child abuse, as well as workplace bullying. The narcissist depends on the positive affirmation of others to neutralise their own sense of unworthiness. They use others to shore themselves up, and lash out at those who threaten this precarious balance. And they leave a trail of damaged people in their wake. 

This article first appeared in the 16 February 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The New Times