The Art of Lament

We’re a couple of weeks into Lent. Lent is the 40 days (minus Sundays) between Ash Wednesday and Easter. The basic idea of Lent is to step back from life and to refocus/realign yourself back to a faithful following after of Christ. Typically, Lent is thought of as a time of fasting, prayer, and alms-giving.

I’m praying more and I’m fasting – or maybe abstaining is a better way of saying it – from some things. Something that I have added is an online book study.

The book that we are reading is “Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times” by Soong-Chan Rah.  

As you know, if you have been reading any of my writing, I have been really mulling over the idea of brokenness in my life and brokenness in general. And so, when someone I respect recommended this online book study, I jumped at the opportunity. It seemed like a good fit.

And it has been. Here are a couple quotes from the book that I have read so far:

“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.”

“Petition arises out of lament. The one who suffers brings the appropriate petition in view of the experience of lament. Praise, therefore, can seem hollow when neither lament nor petition has been sufficiently offered.”

Along with reading the book, we are also reading Lamentations. And let me tell you something. Reading the book of Lamentations is not the most exciting thing in the world. But! I’m reading it with a new appreciation than I did when I started this study group.

So, let’s talk about lament for a minute.

                   

We, as people, are problem-solvers. When things aren’t going well we isolate the problem, strategize an appropriate solution, and then attack it.

This isn’t all bad.

But, it disallows honesty. Honesty demands lament. Lament is such a dramatic word, so maybe I should say that an honest look at our brokenness, or an honest assessment of a difficult and dark time, demands grieving.

Let’s not rush through the pain. Let’s not rush others through their pain. Instead, let’s be brave in the face of pain. Let’s sit with it. Let’s let it suck the breath out of our lungs. Let’s let ourselves feel the sting.

I’m starting to think that knowing the edges of my brokenness will only be possible when I allow myself to grieve - allow myself to lament.