The Purpose of Lament Today

Before I begin, this entire post comes from the Supreme Court decision to overturn Roe v Wade. If you celebrate that decision, this post has nothing for you; we have no common ground in that regard. You can also add other existential threats revealed by the January 6th Commission, the stripping of vote rights, and six-year-olds telling five-year-olds how to respond to an active shooter unprompted yet we do nothing to increase the safety of our already born children.; if all that sounds like political “Left Wing Conspiracy” stuff to you, this post also has nothing for you.

Today I can do nothing to help or improve the situation. I can do lots of things — write, post on social media, call my congressional leaders, even march and take up a sign — but none of it will actually help. Others have already written the words, social media does nothing but echo and antagonize, my congressional leaders do not care about my opinion because I do not have their letter nor lots of money or influence, and marching today seems like a fools errand if marching weeks ago did nothing.

Some of these things may help tomorrow, or next week, or next month, or in November, but today I cannot change anything.

This sounds fatalist, like I have resigned to this world created by powerful people who claim my religion in name but clearly believe different things about God, government, and love of neighbor — and, for that matter, the nature of our savior — but I have not. Even in my knowledge of the uselessness of action today, my mind continues to run through what I can do tomorrow, next week, next month, whatever. I planted seeds before today that sprouted into small changes in hearts and minds this week. I have started finding the voice I lost over the past two years, and I have started using it.

But today none of that matters. We crossed a line, and today we cannot cross back. I can scream in outrage, I can point fingers and blame, and I point out all the obvious lies, hypocrisies, and wrongs we have pointed out for months and years, but none of that will change today.

So today I cry out to God in anger, in mourning, in sadness, in fear. I cry out to God, asking why our leaders failed us. I cry out to God, asking why people allowed themselves to believe lies. I cry out to God, asking why God’s church has so distorted its reading of the Holy Scriptures to get to this point. I cry out to God, demanding answers and furious at why God allowed this to happen.

Psalm 44 comes to mind. A couple of select verses:

11 You’ve handed us over like sheep for butchering;
     you’ve scattered us among the nations.
12 You’ve sold your people for nothing,
     not even bothering to set a decent price.
13 You’ve made us a joke to all our neighbors;
     we’re mocked and ridiculed by everyone around us.
(Psalm 44:11-13 CEB)

To everyone who will find themselves wanting to call me the awful names you call advocates for women’s reproductive and bodily autonomy rights, this goes so much farther than just abortions. We have no constitutional right to privacy. We have no constitutional right to marriage equality, including interracial marriage. We have no right or expectation that the Supreme Court will follow precedent if it conflicts ideologically with the members of the court. In the immediate term this hurts and threatens everyone physically capable of having a child, but the repercussions will hurt and threaten all of us who do not wield power (which, if you read this, includes you).

God, why did you let your church get sold to the highest bidder, and not just sold to the highest bidder but without actually gaining anything in the process? *

I lament today because all I can do is cry out. I cannot fix it today, I cannot even improve it slightly today, I can out cry out to God and ask why, even if God will stubbornly refuse to answer and refuse to intercede.

We lament to acknowledge, to name definitively our pain and suffering, and to name it out loud for others to hear. We do not lament to fix, and, even if lament can start the healing process, it does on have to. We lament to name, aloud, wrong and evil.

I do not purport to have the absolute prescriptive correct response to today; I did not have my bodily autonomy threatened today, so I cannot begin to say anyone who did should do anything I say. I can suggest, though, that doom scrolling, burning energy writing opinion pieces that echo pieces written over the last fifty years, and getting into yelling matches on social media — unless a couple of those truly help your processing of these things — will only drain your energy and change nothing for the better.

I recommend a day of lament, a day of rest (if you can), and a day of mourning. Action will not help the situation today, unfortunately, but lament may help your heart and soul.

My two cents while I try to process all of this.

Peace,
– Robby

* This interpretation of Psalm 44:12 is influenced by Justin Welby on the Everything Happens Podcast.

Sleep On It

Last night a young couple came and essentially tried to convince Nora she’s going to Hell.  I’m not going to name-and-shame what church they came from, but it was very close to home.  It made me furious that the version of the gospel that was being sold in my neighborhood, and because I was busy feeding the sheep I lead.

I am still furious, but I’ve decided to bite my tongue a bit on it, trying to figure out how best to respond.  I don’t know if a public response is best, or a conversation with their pastor asking why this is an acceptable mission practice, but what I’ve written is 95% of what I will say on the matter.

I am very happy I started writing my response last night and waited until today to post it.  It was poorly written, crafted out of anger and exhaustion, not helpful but rather condemning and accusatory.  My thoughts weren’t wrong – again, I’m still angry about it – but I couldn’t write it in a pastoral way.  As I sit in the office this afternoon, not able to focus on real work, I am having a hard time being pastoral again.

So instead of talking about that, I decided I was going to do something else: talk about how to be a mature adult.  Last night I was ready to send all sorts of e-mails and a “Letter to the Editor” and try to get a meeting with the other church in town and create a united front against the teachings of this church.  Today, my vision has cleared a little bit and I can see the folly of that.

Often times sleeping on it is the best option.  Responding out of blind anger would do two things: get my supporters in an unhealthy frenzy and break and line of communication or compromise between this church and my own.  That accomplishes nothing but making me feel good and righteous, which, in its own way, is what caused that brand of theology.

Feeling righteous feels really damn good.  Having people in a fury affirming your righteousness feels amazing.  Judging and condemning the other feels really good.  It all would have made me feel great.

And accomplishes nothing more than divide an already divided and spiritually struggling community further.

I wasn’t home last night because I was preparing for Bible study at the church.  We are studying 1st Timothy.  Last night was chapter 1, including a difficult conversation on verses 9-10.  This verse that includes a word whose translation we can’t guarantee and whose interpretation partially caused to the ELCA and the PC(USA) to both have a major splits and vocal proponents on each side of the debate risking their careers for what they believe God is directing them to do, including a professor I never got the chance to study under because firing him meant money was continuing to come in.

Last night I wanted to add my voice to the larger argument of scripture and sin in a way that furthered the frenzy and anger.  Today I want to share the message of the gospel that is love and salvation, not condemnation and growth based upon fear and guilt.  I want to provide community today, not provide a place to fulfill an obligation so someone can get into Heaven.

I slept on it, and now my anger has calmed so I can actually be light instead of darkness, as dim as my light is today.  I approached it with calm, understanding and love, and now I can respond with calm, understanding, and love.

I will close with this.  If anyone who is local to Cascade, Iowa reads this, know that the message in the church I am leading is not that message.  We believe that we are broken and need Christ, but we will not drag you in with the threat of Hell if you act differently than us or have sins that we don’t struggle with.  I am not ignorant of what has happened with this congregation, and I am not ignorant of why someone might not feel comfortable or welcome in the walls of that church – and that saddens me greatly – but the message from my pulpit is love, compassion, and hope, not judgement nor condemnation.  If you are seeking that, the doors are open to you (and everyone from every walk of life).

You are loved, and that is the message of the gospels.

And don’t respond to stuff out of anger.  It doesn’t help; it only feeds your ego and self-righteousness.

Peace,

– Robby