The Gift of Lament - A Reflection on Psalm 6

We are very lucky at our church to host a fabulous weekly Bible Study that is led by Gather, a new church start that shares our historic building.  In normal times I rarely have the opportunity to attend due to my work schedule, but these are far from normal times, and one of the surprising benefits of everything needing to be "virtual" is that it makes it easier to juggle my schedule!  So I have been able to attend via Zoom and am lovin' it:).

This current session is focused on the Psalms and last week we focused on the Psalms of Lament.  Which are basically most of the Psalms.  So if you want to really understand or pray the Psalms, it seems reasonable to that you have to understand, and I would argue, come to appreciate, lament.

Most 21st century churches in the US don't appear to value lament as much as the Early Church did.  And in fact, while the Psalms are the largest book in the Bible, and Lament Psalms are the largest category of Psalms, in my experience they get the smallest amount of our attention.  I think it's because we want to see church as a happy place - our happy place.  Where we are welcomed and loved, and occasionally, lovingly challenged. We want to feel good about church and at church. 

But I think we might be conflating our desired experience of Church with the experience of the patrons of Cheers, the 1980's sitcom.  Church isn't just a place where "everybody knows your name", although that is often true.  It is where we gather, physically or virtually, to remind ourselves that God knows each of our names, our hearts and our lives - and loves us anyway.  So we don't need to pose or pretend or be our best selves.  In fact, God may be at God's best when we are at our worst - angry, afraid, desperate for hope and for help. 

When we Lament we are asking "where are you God?" because we can finally admit that we need God.  And that is the gift of lament.

Reflection on Psalm 6

Grief and pains, so profound that it causes mental and physical terror.  And a complete feeling of abandonment, as if God has turned God's back on me.  Willfully ignoring my pain and pleas. Almost as if God wants to bring the psalmist, or me, to my knees.

In many ways that feels cruel.  Like God is punishing the psalmist and pimping for praise.  But then I wonder, isn't it often only when we are so utterly broken that we can see no other way out that we then turn to God - and literally beg.  And bargain, i.e. "if you heal me, I will praise you". So is God holding out, or are we?

The Good News is that the psalmist clearly believes that God hasn't left; just moved out of earshot.  Did God turns God's back - or did we?

Dear God, help me to call on you - just to say "hey", to say "thanks", and to beg for your help. And thank you for always being there.  Amen.

The Two Ways - A Reflection on Psalm 1

As the saying goes, "never let a good crisis go to waste".  So during this unique time of sabbath/social distancing/sheltering in place, I'm working on establishing a new spiritual discipline.  One that has been nudging at my soul for some time and now I feel I have no excuses to continue ignoring it. 

It's about the Psalms.  I've had an arms length relationship with them for a long time, mostly because I viewed them as poetry and that's just not my thing.  I love reading the stories of the Hebrew Scriptures, and it was literally life changing for me to read the Old Testament as a canon in seminary.  But I tend to skip lightly, very lightly, through the Psalms.  Picking up on a familiar verse here or there that might appear in the Call to Worship as part of the RCL.

But after reading and leading a Women's Retreat meditation on  "Denial Is My Spiritual Practice: (And Other Failures of Faith) by Rachel G. Hackenberg &Martha Spong" (an AWESOME book by the way), I decided to it was time to commit to actually nurturing a more helpful spiritual practice.  And given this time of global pandemic, economic collapse and varying degrees of competency in leadership, the Book of Psalms called to me.

Praying the Psalms - Reflection on Psalm 1

We have a choice - choose wisely. 

But we need to be patient because God's time is not our time.  Also we need to stand firm in our convictions and not get distracted by the wicked, the fear mongers.  We must combat their actions, but have faith that God will handle their Judgement and Punishment.  It's not only counterproductive for me to wish evil on my enemies, it makes me more like them!

Note - the psalmist talks about the way of the righteous and the way of the wicked. It's not about people, it's about behaviors, actions and intent. I need to stay focused on answering God's call to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with my Creator.  And trust that God will handle the rest.

This will lead to happiness and less stress for me - maybe because it gives me a sense of purpose?  Perhaps not happiness but peace.  Is that really what we should seek after all?  Freedom from worry and anxiety - is that what happiness truly is?

Dear God,
May it be so.
Amen

Truly Wandering in the Wilderness

This has been the most Lenten season of Lent that I can ever remember! 

I didn't grow up with the tradition of observing Ash Wednesday, or giving up something for Lent.  We were raised more as Easter people; always looking forward with confidence that God "had our back".  That no matter what seemingly tragic event occurred,  God would find a way to use it for good.  Because God is Good All the Time.  All the Time, God is Good.

So I didn't pay much attention to Lent.  And even when I got to seminary, and understood more of the symbolism and theology behind Lent, I didn't really embrace it as a season.  My relationship with God is in a continual state of growth, and the multi-year ordination process initiated a continuous process of self-reflection, so carving out 40 days to "wander in the wilderness" seemed not only unnecessary but also inauthentic to me.  I likened it to the New Year's Resolutions that I used to make on 12/31 and forget about before 1/31.  In fact the only one I ever successfully kept was when I decided to give myself the grace of "lower expectations" for a year!

Of course I participated in all the motions of Lent, but mostly I was holding out for Easter.  Lent was just marking time until "the Big Event" - the best church worship service of the year, followed by an awesome, indulgent Easter brunch with family that I didn't have to cook or clean up!

Then came Lent of 2020.   It's almost as if God said, "I've been trying to get your attention but you're not taking me seriously so I'm going to get serious about this 'disorientation/reorientation' thing and force you out of BAU (business as usual)." Because to be perfectly honest, it's hard to appreciate the gift of new life unless something dies first.

This past month, so many things have died that I've lost count.  And trying to list them all would just depress me.  The most significant deaths have been people, preconceived notions, and expectations that were so firm that I treated them as truths vs. hopes. There have been temptations and choices to be made that have given new meaning to sacred texts that we study during Lent.  Making them very real, and challenging me to rise above my natural human tendencies in response.

So I think I get it now.  Part of me wishes that I didn't.  But another part, the better part, is looking forward to Easter with new insight and deeper anticipation.  And a much greater appreciation for the time that Lent creates for me to pause, reflect, and loosen my grip on "doing" so that I create space to just "be" in the wilderness. Knowing that it won't last forever.  Confident that I will grow while I wander; and that God will help me find a way to use this experience for good.