In the Mood for Lament
Indianapolis First Friends Quaker Meeting
Pastor Bob Henry
April 26, 2020
Psalm 42 (The Voice)
1 My soul is dry and thirsts for You, True God,
as a deer thirsts for water.
2 I long for the True God who lives.
When can I stand before Him and feel His comfort?
3 Right now I’m overwhelmed by my sorrow and pain;
I can’t stop feasting on my tears.
People crowd around me and say,
“Where is your True God whom you claim will save?”
4 With a broken heart,
I remember times before
When I was with Your people. Those were better days.
I used to lead them happily into the True God’s house,
Singing with joy, shouting thanksgivings with abandon,
joining the congregation in the celebration.
5 Why am I so overwrought?
Why am I so disturbed?
Why can’t I just hope in God?
Despite all my emotions, I will believe and praise the One
who saves me and is my life.
6 My God, my soul is so traumatized;
the only help is remembering You wherever I may be;
From the land of the Jordan to Hermon’s high place
to Mount Mizar.
7 In the roar of Your waterfalls,
ancient depths surge, calling out to the deep.
All Your waves break over me;
am I drowning?
8 Yet in the light of day, the Eternal shows me His love.
When night settles in and all is dark, He keeps me company—
His soothing song, a prayerful melody to the True God of my life.
9 Even still, I will say to the True God, my rock and strength:
“Why have You forgotten me?
Why must I live my life so depressed, crying endlessly
while my enemies have the upper hand?”
10 My enemies taunt me.
They shatter my soul the way a sword shatters a man’s bones.
They keep taunting all the day long,
“Where is He, your True God?”
11 Why am I so overwrought,
Why am I so disturbed?
Why can’t I just hope in God?
Despite all my emotions, I will believe and praise the One
who saves me, my God.
For nearly 5 years, I served as the Assistant Director of Campus Ministries at Huntington University, just up I-69 west of Fort Wayne. While there I supervised the ministry of 20+ students who had the title, Campus Ministry Coordinator. Basically, they filled the role of lay-pastor for each dormitory floor on campus.
Even my son, Alex, who graduates this year from Huntington University, served as a Campus Ministry Coordinator for nearly two years. As he can attest, the role has its benefits and challenges.
Every August, I would take our Campus Ministry Coordinators to a local camp for training. A big part of that training was preparing them for Week Six of the school year – especially for those working on freshmen floors.
We would often have a six-week countdown to remind the Campus Ministry Coordinators that this time was coming. We made some jokes about it, but in all reality, we took it seriously because six weeks was a statistically proven time frame for undergraduate students…you see…
6 weeks is how long it takes for physical sickness to rear its ugly head on college campuses.
6 weeks is how long it takes for those with a propensity for homesickness to set in.
6 weeks is how long it takes for students to begin questioning or doubting their familial ways.
And for a religious community – 6 weeks is how long it takes for students to begin to wrestle with what they believe and begin to have doubt.
The lack of sleep, late night schedules, personal exploration, academic challenges to one’s philosophies, missing friends, home, and freedom all translate into a personal and communal change taking place.
My hope was that my Campus Ministry Coordinators would be aware and sensitive to these issues and be watching the members of their floors for some of these signs.
One of the biggest reasons to be aware was fall break was approaching. That meant students would head back home for the first time since coming to campus. Often this could be a very difficult time for families and students as they wrestled with a “stew” of all of these issues brewing in their lives.
I trained our Campus Ministry Coordinators to be keenly aware and to open their ears wide to listen. They were to spend more time on their floors and be available for peers to talk with and share. I even encouraged them to create fun activities for the floor and avoid deep philosophical conversations during this time – keeping the environment light and fun while being open to one-on-one times.
By now, you may have realized why I shared this part of my past with you. This week marks the 6th week of the Pandemic and I am noticing many similarities.
6 weeks is how long it has taken for the pandemic to really peek in our country.
6 weeks is how long it has taken for a different type of “home-sickness” to set it – this time wanting to be somewhere other than home.
6 weeks is how long it has taken for people to begin doubting and questioning the truth of the pandemic, the authorities, and why we are still in quarantine.
6 weeks is how long it has taken for religious communities to make major shifts and changes and begin to wrestle with the real struggles rearing their heads - such as depression, anxiety, fear, and actual sickness in our midst.
As pastors, our weekly schedules look completely different than six weeks ago. I personally, spend most of Monday and Tuesday preparing a relevant Self-Led Worship guide and a sermon (which needs to be ready by Wednesday morning to record). What used to be 3-4 days of prep has become 1-2.
I have become an amateur videographer and communication director of about 8 different social media platforms. Most of the rest of my time is spent making phone calls to each of you to check in, listen, and find ways to help you during this time. And then there are all the Zoom meetings and virtual gatherings – so different from just 6 weeks ago.
Like many of you, I feel the struggle, the loss, the lack of personal interaction, and connection. The joy of having a good cup of coffee at a busseling coffeehouse or a great conversation over lunch with you has been relegated to emails, texts, zooms gatherings – which, let’s be honest, cannot convey the real emotion and feeling that looking into the face of someone you care for does. Hospitals have become warzones and nursing homes are on lockdown. We are looking at our third memorial service to be put on our waiting list, soon.
I know each of you are struggling as well with all of these changes, I have heard your pain, your struggle, your boredom, and yet, there are very few answers to give, very few suggestions to suggest, very few opportunities to offer.
Yet this week, as I spent meditating, I found myself feeling frustrated, angry, even caged. As I get up and watch my boys and wife working in each part of the house, I have no words to express my deep sadness that two of my boys will not be experiencing normal graduations.
That their important accomplishments have been sidelined by this pandemic. And that their futures, jobs, higher education, and the many new experiences they were to encounter may be put on hold for an indefinite time.
I listen to the Kindergartners connecting through Zoom with my wife who are full of energy and joy and yet missing school and friends – and I keep thinking of that old saying, “Everything you need to know you learned by Kindergarten.” What ARE they learning from this time?
And as I meditated, I began thinking about how small my family’s issues seem – when health care providers are risking lives each day. People are still struggling with cancer and horrible diseases. The elderly are isolated from the world and are feeling all alone. Those in abusive situations are stuck in domestic violence nightmares – quarantined in unsafe homes. And then there are the pandemic inequalities ravaging the African American and Latin-X communities, which are atrocious. And the list goes on and on…
What is my response?
Do I think I can have one?
Does fear grip me and keep me from any sense of hope?
The only word that seemed to speak to my condition this week was the word – LAMENT – a rare form of prayer that has almost been forgotten in the Christian tradition.
Some have even labeled it “the prayer that comes out of our pain.”
In an article by Trina Dofflemeyer, she says,
A lament is a prayer searching for understanding and peace in the midst of suffering or disheartening circumstances.
I don’t know about you, but I think I am having deep feelings of lament.
I am searching for understanding.
I want some peace amidst this pandemic suffering and disheartening time.
Frederick Schmidt says, this form of prayer is
“…also a way of navigating loss and despair, laments carry those who long for comfort from raw honesty, through struggle, to the reaffirmation of God’s goodness.”
What I think he is trying to say is that lament is kind of the beginning of a three-tiered process.
First: Lament gives us permission to be honest about our struggle. To tell God what we really feel and are struggling with 6 weeks into this pandemic. Just maybe you need to unload on God.
In the Psalms we often hear the Psalmist crying out in poetic verse - “How long, O Lord? Will you utterly forget me?” (Psalm 13:2) or “Why, O Lord, do you stand aloof? Why hide in times of distress?” (Psalm 10:1)
We may not be so poetic – we may be more prone to swear, shake a first, or simply give a huge sigh. But we need this release – that is part of Lament.
Second: After we air out (or get off our chests) the frustrations, losses and despair, we then must begin to look at the actual struggle within our own hearts. We spend time becoming more aware of why we are struggling and what is causing that struggle. I find after airing my frustrations to God - I sense more clarity and often see what has lead me into feeling the frustration, loss and despair. I may even begin to sense a way out or into a more hopeful place.
Thirdly, once we work through those struggles, we need to take a moment and reaffirm the goodness of God. We may need to go back to better times and remember how God has helped us through other difficult times. How God has provided for us. How God has been faithful when we were not able to be.
This morning, I want to close our time together with a lament written for the pandemic. I have modified it slightly for our needs, but find it helpful in articulating my own thoughts and feelings through this process.
Will you join me this morning as we enter the process of Lament and may it speak to the condition of our soul:
Hear our cry, God. Listen to our prayer.
How long will we have to hide in our homes from this invisible enemy?
Where will it strike next? And whom? And what if…?
Our screens relay a continuous escalation of suffering and death around the world. Panic and anxiety abounds. Our souls are weary from the strain of the life-altering unknowns.
God, from the depths of our pain and confusion, we cry out to You.
From fear-filled hearts and anxious minds, we plead with You. Rescue us, Father of compassion and grace. We lift up our eyes to You, Lord God, the One who sits enthroned in heaven.
On all who have contracted the virus, Lord have mercy!
On all who have lost loved ones to this sickness and are in mourning and anguish, Lord have mercy!
On all who are unable to earn an income because their jobs have been suspended, Lord have mercy!
We cry out for healing and needed resources
We cry out for comfort and peace
On all medical professionals and caretakers attending to those infected with the virus, Christ have mercy!
On all scientists and technologists striving to find a vaccine and to make it available , Christ have mercy!
On all leaders of institutions and governments as they make decisions to try and contain the virus, Christ have mercy!
We pray for strength in the long and exhausting hours of labor
We pray for wisdom in the research and difficult decisions
On all who have not yet contracted the virus, Lord have mercy!
On the most vulnerable of our society who are unable to buy extra food or get proper medical attention, Lord have mercy!
On all followers of Jesus Christ discerning how to reflect His love to others within this crisis, Lord have mercy!
We plead for protection of health
We plead for all to remain calm and kind
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the expanse of the universe. And yet this earth is no longer as You created it to be.
One day You will liberate creation from its bondage to decay and death.
Life is sacred and precious in your sight. You are the God Who sees us and sustains us.
Nothing can separate us from the Father’s unfailing love and kindness, not even sickness or the fear of tomorrow.
You are our Light as we walk in this darkness. We will remember to celebrate the beautiful gifts You have given us in this present moment.
Almighty God, You are our Rock, our Refuge from the enemy, our hiding place.
You calm our frantic thoughts and fill our despairing hearts with joy and strength.
In Your Presence living water springs forth in the wilderness.
You restore our souls.
Let us now enter a time of waiting worship. During this time let your lament continue. If you still need some prompts, ask yourself the following queries:
What current struggles do I need to share with God?
How can I become more aware of the struggles I am facing, and what is behind those struggles?
Where am I seeing God’s goodness in my life (whether in the past or in the current situation)?