One of the difficulties experienced in the grieving process is saying goodbye to an idealized person or character.

I remember a nurse, an only child at birth, but preceded by a little brother who lived only a few months. The brother, born and deceased before her, was a constant presence in her family until her parents’ death. He was her great, invisible rival. On one hand, her parents were always in mourning, filled with sadness and grief. Any celebration was suppressed, seen as disrespectful to her deceased brother. When she occasionally reproached them for not loving her, they replied that they had given her an education and a good upbringing. But she grew up feeling orphaned of affection. On one hand, she felt jealous of her little brother, and on the other, she felt guilty for those negative feelings.

The person, both idealized and absent, becomes so fantastical that it extinguishes interest in the imperfect real world. This creates a stagnation that, in the case of grief, can lead to chronic or pathological mourning. It prevents contact with reality.

Sometimes, idealization in grief was preceded by a harsh reality prior to the death, in which the deceased had represented an escape from the sordid environment in which they lived. I remember a mother who lost her son in a workplace accident. Her relationship with the husband, the father of her son, had been fraught, marked by abuse, according to her. Her son was her confidant, her friend, and her partner in dreams. The husband was excluded from the mother-son gatherings. After the son’s death, the husband tried to reach out to his wife. He even accompanied her to the grief support group. But she perceived these attempts as an effort to usurp her son’s place.

This mother’s world revolved around recreating the image of her son, whom she mentally mummified, making him eternal. We’re talking about buying a birthday cake for the deceased and taking his slice to the cemetery.

Idealization can be described as a defense mechanism when we perceive reality as adverse. It’s that old saying, “the past was always better.” In my parish, when we recall the recent past, specifically regarding First Communions, we talk about the multitudes of children who used to receive them, compared to the small minority now. It was a minority who didn’t make their First Communion. Now, it’s a minority who attend catechism classes. But we overlook the fact that before, people came to catechism classes out of tradition and custom, while now it’s more out of devotion and personal choice. Proof of this is that there is more perseverance nowadays than before. In the past, First Communion often coincided with Last Communion.

Idealizing a person, an era, or a particular political or religious stance leads to ignoring or despising present reality. This, of course, carries the risk of detaching us from reality—in other words, of creating an isolated, fictional world.

We can apply this to personal or social relationships.

Monsignor Redrado, the first Brother of St. John of God, a bishop and expert in Pastoral Care of the Sick, spoke of the pastoral care of good memories. Even if it was difficult to reach the sacraments, we should at least leave the sick person and their family with a good memory of their time in the hospital.

The best pastoral care is the most feasible. By not idealizing a specific healthcare ministry, as was the case in other eras where the goal was to administer sacraments, we were able to approach the reality of the sick person and their family, respecting their way of being and their pace.

In my parish there is a theater and an association of more than three hundred families, with almost a thousand people between children and adults who do activities related to education in leisure time and art.

From their idealized view of what a parish group should be, they were strangers to the parish community. Many parishioners saw them as “squatters” usurping space. They idealized what once was and ignored reality. The benchmark was whether or not they “came to Mass.”

The idealization of what they should be was abandoned, and the focus shifted to understanding and appreciating their work. Result 1: It was discovered that only a third of the group members reside within the parish boundaries, and many participate in church life in their own parishes. 2: Several catechumens have been baptized and confirmed. 3: A set of principles addressing faith and culture has been developed. 4: A values ​​committee was created to promote Christian values ​​across all areas of the group.

Not idealizing leads to accepting reality as it is and situating ourselves within it.

But we continue to idealize, and moreover, from a place of polarity. Cain and Abel represent this polarity: farmers and ranchers, one political tendency and its opposite. Even within the Church we polarize. We speak of this or that believer, or priest, or religious congregation with an ease of classification. What’s more, sometimes the name of a religious association or movement alone defines a person. We idealize, positively or negatively, to the detriment of analyzing reality.

It becomes polarized between good and bad, depending on our starting point, labeling the character. Positive or negative idealization is undoubtedly a poor or false perception of reality, insofar as it disregards the complexity of the events or the person.

Even with clear concepts like diagnostic categories, we can make mistakes. This week I saw a young man who was diagnosed with autism as a child. It’s true he has a special sensitivity, but at twenty-two, he works, studies, has a small group of friends, and a decent social life. He has lived with an inferiority complex because of this diagnosis. The same thing happens when we are foreigners or have a peculiarity. We tend to be adolescents who can’t cope with being different, even though they may want to be different.

Pope Leo XIV emphasized the importance of dialogue and integration during his visit to Spain, where he called for overcoming polarization and divisive narratives. During his address at the Royal Palace, he urged Spanish society to embrace a culture of encounter rather than confrontation, stressing that Spain’s history suggests that stability and prosperity are generated through encounter, not conflict. He also criticized divisive narratives and proposed rebuilding bridges within society, promoting critical education and open communication.

Polarization isn’t exclusive to any one particular ideology. Opponents are criticized and scorned, yet we always find ourselves on the right side of polarization. We see ourselves in Abel, but the criticism sometimes feels like an attempt to annihilate the other. Abel died, but Cain lives on.