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Cross Pollination-A Season for Lament
March 25, 2020 by Rebecca Littlejohn
“Cross Pollination – A Season for Lament”
Lamentations 3:19-28; Jeremiah 8:18-22 – Rev. Rebecca Littlejohn
Vista La Mesa Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), La Mesa, California – March 22, 2020
Cross Pollination Lenten Sermon Series #4
Holy God, bless the speaking and the hearing of these words, that we might open our hearts to the wisdom you are sending us through our neighbors. In Jesus’ name we pray, Amen.
As we hunker down in our homes, we may feel tempted to narrow our horizons and depend on just what we already know. But if we can push beyond that initial reaction of alarm, we will remember that we are stronger together and we benefit from learning from our neighbors. Thus far in this series, we have gleaned wisdom from Catholics, Jews, and Muslims. Today, we return closer to home, as I share with you my conversation with the Rev. Kim Dawsey-Richardson, pastor of First Presbyterian Church of El Cajon, and her parishioner Susan Jarboe. Incidentally, Kim is the niece of George Bailey’s daughter-in-law Ellen (Gary’s wife).
You may be wondering why I thought Presbyterians should be included in this series, which was supposed to highlight similarities across different traditions. Presbyterians are mainline Protestants like us. And that’s just it. I figured of all the mainline Protestants we might take a look at, Presbyterians are the best choice, since the roots of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) came from Scottish Presbyterians. Now of course, we need to name that today’s Presbyterian church is a vastly different entity than the institution the Campbells and Stones separated from. But to honor those roots, I thought it would be good to include them. There is always something to learn from our neighbors, no matter how far or near they may be.
My initial observations, then, are not that surprising. From Pastor Kim’s experience, it seems that the Presbyterian church rests in a similar liturgical place with relation to Lent as we do: enjoying access and exposure to the traditions, but with the freedom to experiment creatively with the various themes and practices involved. Given that, what I’m sharing today is probably more reflective of what Pastor Kim has done, rather than the whole Presbyterian church, because there is so much variety in the way their different congregations observe the season. There are two major themes from Pastor Kim’s approach to Lent that stood out to me as fruitful lessons for us, particularly as we are working to keep the faith while scattered apart.
The first lesson has to do with Lent being a time to re-connect ourselves to particular spiritual practices. When we’re not showing up physically at the church building, remembering that there are lots of ways to practice our faith at home is important. For Pastor Kim, one of the most important aspects of this is to help people connect with practices that engage our whole body, all our senses, rather than just using words. Stuck at home, we may fall into bad habits of just sitting for way too long. Exploring other postures for prayer – from kneeling, to standing with our arms spread high and wide, to spinning around to music in a prayer of joy – can help us get back into our bodies and worship God with our whole beings.
Pastor Kim also loves to design creative ways for her congregation to engage in prayer using props, which almost end up producing art projects. There are numerous examples of this throughout the Bible. Stacks of stones, the ripping of clothes or hair, various uses of ashes, even the palm branches we associate with Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem are all tools people in the Bible used to express their faith. You could do some of this at home, if you want to get creative.
This year at First Presbyterian, Pastor Kim is using two giant punch bowls filled with water. (Or at least, she was, until gathering for worship was suspended.) Each week, as they were doing the Prayers of the People, she was pouring salt into the bowls, to represent tears. Within a week or so, the salt started crystallizing and growing up and over the edges of the bowls. The idea was that it would get added to each week, eventually creating a dazzling salt crystal sculpture. This is something you could do, on a smaller scale, at your house, if you have an extra box of salt in the pantry. I would recommend using a little clear glass, filled about two thirds full of water. Each day, as you remember in prayer those who are struggling or lift up your own burdens to God, put a little more salt into the cup, and see how God transforms the symbol of your tears into something beautiful.
The other major lesson Pastor Kim shared, that seems especially appropriate to these difficult times, was the idea of approaching Lent as a season of lament. We often use the story of Jesus fasting in the wilderness for 40 days as a model to build on for our observances of Lent. In this approach, the wilderness is seen as a time of exile, a time to mourn our separation and brokenness. As with all congregational Lenten practices, sharing in lament together as church helps prepare us for the times when lament erupts in our individual lives. But for Pastor Kim, this practice of lament is always two-fold: we lament the state of our hearts and souls, but we also lament the state of the world. Salt is poured into the bowl in the middle of sanctuary to remember church members struggling with cancer, and salt is poured into the bowl as a sign of compassion for victims of human trafficking or detainees trapped in crowded, unsanitary conditions, or survivors of domestic violence.
We hear this call from Jeremiah: “For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt, I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me.” Our sorrow is not about us alone; the trauma we are experiencing right now is shared all around the planet. The mis-steps of leadership, the false information flying faster than truth can be discovered, the pain of adjusting to life with extreme limitations – these are all burdens we are carrying together, without the respite of gathering together to make them lighter.
Lament is a powerful spiritual practice, but only if we practice it with open hearts. Self-pity is not holy. Certainly, any and all of us have burdens we are invited to take to God in prayer, welcome to be however pathetic we’re feeling. But getting stuck there is not what we are called to. Our lament, when it is grounded in scripture, empowers us because it connects us to the heart of God, who cries out with us in the face of deprivation and hardship. It empowers us to face the pain of the world and the pain in our lives, because it reminds that we are not alone, even if there’s no one else physically around. Lament is the thread that connects the hard times of our lives with the Passion Story, the central truth of our faith that tells us how Jesus understands our suffering from the inside. When we practice lament together, we grow stronger in our capacity to survive whatever life may throw at us.
We read in the book of Lamentations, “The LORD is good to those who wait for him, to the soul that seeks him. It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth, to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it.” Nothing about our current situation feels good. But scripture tells us again and again that waiting and watching are some of the most powerful spiritual practices we can engage in. Our lives are normally so hurried and busy. Even now, as we scurry to figure out new ways to carry on our lives, we may not have taken time to slow down. But let us promise ourselves that we will make time, to wait and watch, to open our hearts to the pain of the world and in our own families and lives, and to lament, drawing our sorrow into the heart of God, who will not leave us orphaned. Even as we “sit alone in silence,” let us open our hearts to one another and to our neighbors, that we might grow in faith and resilience and hope. May Christ be our companion as we walk through this new, uncharted wilderness. Amen.