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The Costly Loss of Lament

George June 24, 2020 Quarantine Reflections 2 Comments

The title of this post is borrowed from Walter Brueggemann’s essay “The Costly Loss of Lament” (1986). If you are interested in reading it you can download it HERE. (ALERT, it is not a tweet!)
Lament has been and continues to be a subject of deep interest to me. You can read my previous posts on lament HERE.

Experiencing a pandemic which has spawned financial and political crises, followed by social upheaval has not lessen my interest in lament, in fact, it has increased it. Hopefully, this post will make clear why that is so.
Motivation for this post also comes via Christian responses to those events.
There are three parts to this post, 1) Citations from Brueggemann’s essay, 2) A story from our foster parenting days, and 3) Thoughts on loss of lament

The Costly Loss of Lament

As implied, Brueggemann’s premise is that lament has been lost. He asserts that loss is because lament Psalms are no longer a part of life and liturgy in the faith community. His comments are worthy of serious study. For the purposes of this posts, I accept his premise, and will share some quotes regarding losses incurred when lament is absent.

Lament occurs when the dysfunction reaches an unacceptable level, when the injustice is intolerable and change is insisted upon.

What happens when the speech forms [lament] …have been silenced and eliminated? The answer, I believe, is that a theological monopoly is re-enforced, docility and submissiveness are engendered, and the outcome is to re-enforce and consolidate the political- economic monopoly of the status quo. That is, the removal of lament from life and liturgy is not disinterested and, I suggest, only partly unintentional.

One loss that results from the absence of lament is the loss of genuine covenant interaction because the second party to the covenant (the petitioner) has become voiceless or has a voice that is permitted to speak only praise and doxology. Where lament is absent, covenant comes into being only as a celebration of joy and well-being.

The absence of lament makes a religion of coercive obedience the only possibility.

Where the lament is absent, the normal mode of the theodicy question is forfeited. When the lament form is censured, justice questions cannot be asked and eventually become invisible and illegitimate. Instead we learn to settle for questions of ‘meaning?, and we reduce the issues to resolutions of love. But the categories of meaning and love do not touch the public systemic questions about which biblical faith is relentlessly concerned. A community of faith which negates laments soon concludes that the hard issues of justice are improper questions to pose at the throne, because the throne seems to be only a place of praise.

…it thus follows that if justice questions are improper questions at the throne (which is a conclusion drawn through liturgie use), they soon appear to be improper questions in public places, in schools, in hospitals, with the government, and eventually even in the courts. Justice questions disappear into civility and docility. The order of the day comes to seem absolute, beyond question, and we are left with only grim obedience and eventually despair. The point of access for serious change has been forfeited when the propriety of this speech form is denied.

Psalm (39) characteristically brings to speech the cry of a troubled earth (v. 12). Where the cry is not voiced, heaven is not moved and history is not initiated. And then the end is hopelessness. Where the cry is seriously voiced, heaven may answer and earth may have a new chance. The new resolve in heaven and the new possibility on earth depend on the initiation of protest.
It makes one wonder about the price of our civility, that this chance in our faith has largely been lost because the lament Psalms have been dropped out of the functioning canon.

David

This is David (not his real name), one of several children we fostered in the late ’70’s and early 80’s. David lived with us the longest of any of our foster children. He came to us after being removed from his family by CPS. The picture is how I remember David when he came to our home. He was always smiling and seemed to be a happy child.
Not long after he arrived, he fell and bumped his head. It was a nasty bump and we immediately reacted to comfort and console him, expecting hm to wail and cry. We were shocked when David showed no reaction, looked at us and smiled. Perplexed, we had no understanding or experience to call on. We later learned David’s parents did not permit him to cry and punished him when he did so, whether hungry, injured or otherwise. He learned that smiling was good and crying was bad.
Living with a “normal” family gradually conditioned him to react in a more normal fashion. He never became a normal spontaneous kind of child. I will never forget the time he returned from a family visit. His demeanor has markedly different than when left for the visit. Trying to connect with him and reassure him, he remained stoic. Finally, a light flickered in his eyes and he looked at me and said, ” I love you”. I’ll never forget that moment.
Eventually adopted by a family at church, we have been able to see him grow into an adult. There is much more to his story. His life has been extremely difficult but he just keeps smiling, never forgetting the lessons his parents taught him.

Thoughts on the loss of Lament

Brueggemann’s essay written in 1986 asserts lament has been lost as apart of Christian faith and worship. He attributes that loss to a failure to use the lament psalms as they were intended. I trust his assessment of faith and worship at the time he wrote. In 20+ years since, I believe lament, as a part of faith and worship, continued to diminished and been lost in some spheres of western Christianity. While there are some segments where lament remains an integral part of faith and worship, the locus of loss appears to be Evangelical Christianity and related groups on the margin of evangelicalism.

While not diminishing the the role of lament Psalms, or lack there of, in the loss of lament, I believe loss of lament has been accelerated by a proliferation of..

“churches [that] have been turned into celebration centers so that prayers of anguish, lament, and anger are not given space. Without realizing it, we bottle up our anger and fears, put on a happy face, and try to clap our hands like those around us.” (JD Walt)

No matter why lament has been lost, Brueggemann’s analysis of the cost of that loss rings true today.

Despite Brueggemann’s states “Lament occurs when the dysfunction reaches an unacceptable level, when the injustice is intolerable and change is insisted upon.”

Pandemic, economic and racial strife have combined to create “dysfunction and injustice at an unacceptable level.” Tragically, lament has been absent in much of Evangelical Christianity.

I perceive lament to be a leading indicator of churches who lean into social justice. Conversely, churches who are silent or reluctant to speak out against injustice have little or no room for lament.

I believe there are many “David’s” in churches today. People disabused of any notion lament is a part a healthy relationship with God. No matter what happens, they just keep smiling.

Brueggemann’s statement: “The absence of lament makes a religion of coercive obedience the only possibility”. deserves critical examination.

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Psalm 22)
…It is no part of the Christian vocation, then, to be able to explain what’s happening and why. In fact, it is part of the Christian vocation not to be able to explain—and to lament instead. As the Spirit laments within us, so we become, even in our self-isolation, small shrines where the presence and healing love of God can dwell. And out of that there can emerge new possibilities, new acts of kindness, new scientific understanding, new hope…
N. T. Wright

More on Lament

George November 15, 2019 Lament 1 Comment

I have written some earlier posts on lament. HERE and HERE Those posts were prompted by our grandson’s suicide and our subsequent struggle with grief. Lament has been on mind ever since and is now becoming more acute as we approach the one year anniversary (Dec 10) of Ryan’s death.

Recently, there have been two encounters which I think worthy of another post. The first was attendance at the Wilmore Anglican Church. My first Anglican worship experience, I was pleased and encouraged by a liturgy that recognized and provided space for lament. I have struggled with conceptualizing how such expressions can fit into my usual evangelical worship experience. I believe we can learn from the Anglicans. I wondered, as I listened to the prayers of the people, what that kind of opportunity would have meant for us in our grief as we worshipped the Sunday after Ryan’s death.

The second encounter came in my reading of Richard Beck’s recently released book: Trains, Jesus, and Murder: The Gospel according to Johnny Cash . I am enjoying the read and intend to post more about it later. But, particular to this post, Beck had some thoughts on lament that I find helpful and profoundly insightful. The following are excerpts from a longer commentary in the chapter “San Quentin”

We get to the good news of Easter Sunday only after crying out, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”
Lament isn’t a failure or lack of faith. Lament is an act of bold, trusting faith in the midst of pain, suffering, and confusion. In fact, if we ignore lament, if we avoid giving voice to despair and rage, the gospel loses its ability to speak honestly, realistically, and truthfully. Without lament, faith grows naïve and superficial—a happy, fake, glossy façade we paint over the pain and confusion. In addition, lament is the cry of the oppressed, a song of resistance. When we avoid lament, we are marginalizing the voices crying out in pain around the world.

In sum, lament is the shadow of the gospel, the moon to the gospel’s sun. The bright hope of the gospel creates sharp, dark outlines of contrast around all that is unjust and broken. Lament is that gap separating the new heavens and the new earth from the shattered world we find around us. In pointing toward that gap, we are not failing or denying the gospel; instead, we are praying with tears and raw, cracked voices, “May your kingdom come, on earth as it is in heaven.”

Further Reflections on Lament

George August 6, 2019 Lament 0 Comments

I have continued to ponder lament, especially its place in corporate worship and prayer.

My understanding of lament:

In my words: lament is the natural, intuitive response of all humans to the reality of the brokenness in our world as seen and/or experienced in their lives. I would describe brokenness as anything that is wrong, perceived or otherwise. (I realize ‘wrong” is relative but whether or not it is a legitimate wrong, there will be lament.)

To press the point, if you meet someone who has no capacity to lament, they would be labeled a sociopath. In contrast, I would describe any person who has the capacity to lament as a genuine human being. There is a broader conversation needed about when, where, what, how lament is demonstrated in a wholesome human being. Or in our case, a wholesome Christian. At this point, my conclusion is that lament is a universal human emotional response to real or perceived wrong.

Accepting my conclusion, I would say that for anyone to deny, suppress, ignore or denigrate lament would make them inauthentic and I would not want them as a friend.

I’m looking for a friend who can weep over the death of a friend “Jesus wept”, and cry out “My God, my God why have you forsaken me”.

Here is a quote from Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times,

It was helpful to me.

…Shalom, therefore, does not eschew or diminish the role of the other or the reality of a suffering world. Instead, it embraces the suffering other as an instrumental aspect of well-being. Shalom requires lament.

Lament in the Bible is a liturgical response to the reality of suffering and engages God in the context of pain and trouble. The hope of lament is that God would respond to human suffering that is wholeheartedly communicated through lament.

Why would God expect lament to be a part of our worship?

I do not understand worship so much as a command but, rather an innate response of creature to creator, an encounter with Yahweh, i.e. Isaiah 6

I believe God expects our worship to be authentic, “…true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth…”. Therefore, I suggest that God expects us to be truthful in our worship and to the extent we exclude lament from our worship, (corporate and otherwise) we are inauthentic, I.e untruthful.

If God expects us to trust Him completely, how must he feel when we are reluctant or refuse to lament over real pain and suffering but freely complain about inconveniences? I would not presume to be God, but I might feel like a vending machine. It seems to me lament may be the purest expression of faith. Trusting when there are no answers. Where do we take those questions if not to God?

As a witness of our faith to the world, what could be a more powerful testimony than a people who in their worship make known a God that cares deeply about the pain and suffering that we all have in common, and to whom we are willing to take our unanswerable questions and keep rejoicing?

I resist efforts make lament “a part of our worship” because I suspect characterizing lament as a particular form of worship (ironically, it may be) would lend to the temptation to manage the worship experience i.e. “now we will pause for lament”… “ next month’s prayer session will be devoted to lament” and so on. In effect, rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.

I struggle with conceptualizing what the inclusion of lament would look like in corporate worship or corporate prayer. For that reason, I would encourage us to think about our corporate worship as more like a symphony , an expression of all the various “instruments” in a beautiful harmonious composition, rather than a cacophony.

Reimagining worship may be like designing a new automobile. It begins with a usually impractical artist’s conception which is then subjected to rigorous design review and modification by all stakeholders which eventually results in a product that not only honors the artist’s concept but also can be manufactured and used for its intended purpose.

In any case, this is a Pandora’s box and if you open it, the consequences could be serious. For good or ill.

Edited with BlogPad Pro

Intersections- Lament

George July 8, 2019 Intersections 0 Comments

This post continues a series entitled **intersections**. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but, that’s not how life goes.

In the months that have followed our grandson’s suicide, the subject of lament has dominated much of my thinking. It is reasonable to anticipate an encounter with lament in the midst of such a tragedy. Our grief was saturated with expressions of lament at a depth we had never experienced before. However, my primary motive for continued inquiry comes not so much from experiencing lament, but, the absence of lament.

In a post entitled “Intersections – Grief”, I wrote this paragraph:

Hopeful of some mystical elixir that would heal my grief, I attended church the following Sunday. What I encountered in worship was revealing. I did not experience comfort. The songs and music were offensive. The atmosphere of jubilance was hollow. Instead of feeling the embrace of community, I felt very alone and isolated.

I was deeply disappointed. I needed and hoped to receive solace, but departed with unrequited grief. The worship presentation was not unusual in any discernible way. An ordinary Sunday morning worship experience became inexplicably alien. As always, I was nagged by the question, why?

Perhaps, grief had impacted the chords of my heart in such a way that what had previously been harmonious was suddenly discordant. Certainly the tragic and unexpected circumstances of our grief was unprecedented for us. What I have come to conclude is, that, in fact, that Sunday worship was ordinary. It was worship as expected, even more than expected, required. What became apparent that morning was the prevalence of a culture of celebration. My grief filtered out, what would have, on any other Sunday, been an encouraging, affirming experience. I was left with silence. There was no place for lament that my soul desperately needed.

Those who live in celebration “are concerned with questions of proper management and joyous celebration .” Instead of deliverance, they seek constancy and sustainability. “The well-off do not expect their faith to begin in a cry, but rather, in a song. They do not expect or need intrusion, but they rejoice in stability [and the] durability of a world and social order that have been beneficial to them.” Praise is the language of celebration. Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times

My initial response was to minimize the issue and rationalize the absence of lament. However, as I began to read and study on the subject of lament, I found I was not alone in my concern. Numerous writings by scholars and theologians over centuries of Christian history have grappled with lament and its role in in the faith of the individual and community.

Richard Beck, writing in reference to Emmanuel Kant’s views on lament presents a challenging critique of lament in Christian culture:

If you live with a view of God that guarantees that your faith and virtue will be rewarded then, for Kant, your faith is simply self-interest. Again, virtue cannot exist for Kant if the outcome is guaranteed. If reward and eternal bliss are sure bets, well, can you really be praised for taking a non-existent risk?
This is really a profound critique of much of what is happening in Christian culture. For example, many have lamented (no pun intended) the excessive praise-orientation in much of popular Christian worship. Much of Christianity is triumphalistic. Health and wealth visions of the gospel are also very popular. By being a Christian we can get Our Best Life Now!
We often see these trends as symptoms of superficiality. But Kant’s critique hits harder. It is not just that these forms of Christianity are emotionally shallow. Kant shows that these praise-dominated faith systems are void of all authenticity. For when the links between virtue and happiness are fully in hand faith demands nothing of us. Religion reduces to expressions of human self-interest and selfish calculation. Kant calls this idolatry.
The flip side of the equation is that true authenticity is found in a faith full of lament. It’s not just that lament is emotionally “deeper” or more “real” than the emotions of praise. Rather, lament is expressed in the face of evil, in a world where the links between virtue and happiness have broken down. Thus, to have faith or to act with virtue in a world of lament calls upon something more than self-interest. Faith and virtue have no guarantees in the experience of lament. Thus, for Kant, only faith and virtue expressed from lament are truly authentic.

Thinking about the assertion that “true authenticity is found in a faith full of lament”, I would suggest that what the worship I experienced that Sunday morning was at its core, inauthentic. My conclusion is not a judgement based on the motives or hearts of the participants. Rather, it comes from the reality that many, if not most, of the hearts of those present on any given Sunday are broken or wounded and need to voice their complaint to a God who cares. To the extent that is true, worship without lament will be inauthentic.

If you dwell excessively in the world of Psalm 1 and never live in the world of lament can you be living an authentic Christian life?

I feel if I have only touched the tip of the lament iceberg . More to come.

Category: Lament

The Costly Loss of Lament

More on Lament

Further Reflections on Lament

Intersections- Lament

Grandkids