Grief is uncomfortable. When we grieve over someone we’ve lost, it hurts. If we don’t understand the pain, it can be incredibly clumsy.
Christians are often unprepared and untrained for godly grieving. We then have difficulty expressing sorrow with the hurting. We often forget the Psalms of Lament, the tears of Jesus, and the story of Job. Even our most popular worship songs contain mostly messages of positivity and encouragement. We certainly need hope, but Scripture and the Christian tradition encourage lament and sorrow for the evil that is in the world. This is one way we show solidarity with those experiencing injustice. Our communities cannot begin to heal if Christians cannot express their sorrow and identify with the grief of others. For even our leader was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief” (Isaiah 53:3).
As a hospice chaplain, I make phone calls to families who have lost loved ones. Many people follow a cultural script that masks their own sadness. I hear repeated phrases like, ‘I know God has a plan,’ ‘He’s in a better place,’ and ‘Time will heal.’ But if we don’t take time to grieve, time may not heal. We may be left calloused and unfeeling to our pain and the pain of others.
As our nation faces a global pandemic and serious racial injustice, Christians’ first response should be to mourn with those who are grieving. We need to join our sisters and brothers on the mourning bench, no matter how uncomfortable or challenging it is.
But how can we grieve appropriately with those who are personally feeling the loss? Below are three ideas that individuals and communities can practice that may help us sit and lament with the suffering.
First, we can be present. The first offering then is ourselves. Our presence should be an embodied disposition of openness to the other. All other motives but knowing that person are continually put to death. The ministry of presence has many qualities: reflective listening, hearing afresh, and feeling someone’s emotive responses. This presence is a temperament that is borne out of love.
A truly present encounter with someone melts away our will for them. It drives us to know them in all their uniqueness and humanity. We sit with someone and an entire world sits before us. When we open the way for this type of human encounter, we invite God to commune with all present. It’s an invitation for Him to be present in all our suffering. In the spirit of this truthful encounter, our fellowship is honest, and the freedom of Christ is found. Here, we are on holy ground. Only in free and open relationships can we rightly begin the collective lament that we and our neighbors so desperately need.
Second is the ministry of listening. We listen, not to respond or to be understood, but to understand. Listening is active and felt. This active engagement of the ears is the gateway to understanding someone’s sorrow. ‘He who has ears to hear’ let him listen. The Spirit of Christ is one that listens to understand someone’s suffering so that they may grieve with them.
Third, we can give people a language for lament. At a minimum, people need their injustices acknowledged and pain echoed. Some who mourn will not have the words to express their fears and sorrow. Scripture encourages all Christians in the language of lament. The Psalms of Lament are a good place to start (e.g., Psalms 10, 13, 22, and 77). Communities of faith over the centuries have used these and other prophetic poems (e.g., Lamentations and Jeremiah) to express their anger and sadness. These ancient texts unite us to those in pain and prompt collective godly sorrow. As Christians, we can be a voice for the unheard, and express their grief through the words of the prophets. Acknowledging and echoing the pain of others is an important step toward healing, but it’s certainly not the only one. Scripture and Christian tradition give us the language for collective and even national lament that calls us to seek justice and mercy amid evil. Lament then is a call to worship in Spirit and truth.
Today, individuals and communities are grieving. The people of God can begin the process of reconciliation by grieving their own complacency and providing a language for the suffering. I hope we can be present with our neighbors who are facing very real pain and grief. I hope we listen to others and give them the freedom not to follow the cultural script that dismisses their feelings. I hope we invite others to say what they need to say and know that in Christ, we can handle it. I hope we can point others to a language of lament that provides validation for their hurt and words for their wounds.
Written for Edmond Sun: Sunday Sermon