Sunday, September 18, 2022

SERMON: What Lament Meant

 

10:30 am, Sun, Sept 18, 2022 - J G White / FBC Amherst

(Jer 8:18 – 9:1; 1 Tim 2:1-7)

 It was so good to be with you at Trinity St. Stephen’s one more time, last Sunday, with music by the Camerata Singers of Halifax. Though, I was also disappointed. I had planned to be away with some bird-watching friends, at a research station on a windy maritime island, in Shelburne County. For thirty years I have been going there for a weekend each year, staying in a cabin, walking around the shoreline, getting away from it all.

But the trip got cancelled, just two weeks before. Some of my nature-loving friends who where to be together with me went away, instead, to a cottage up near Pictou.

On Saturday, up there, one couple I know – the gentlest, kindest of folks – went swimming. They love the outdoors, always going canoeing, hiking, swimming, all over the province. They went swimming in the rough waters. It did not end well. The man drowned. His wife, who tried to rescue him, ended up in hospital for a few days.

I was so shocked when a mutual friend emailed us to let us know of this tragic death. All of us were supposed to be together in Shelburne County.

We all have things to lament. Bad things that happen to good people, and we are sad. Or shocked. Or angry. Or distraught. As happy as these summer months have been for me, here in our new place to call home, there is plenty to complain or cry about.

We struggle with the homeless and needy population of this town. As Donnie so aptly puts it, we go from wanting and longing to help them, to just wondering how to get rid of them: once one starts sleeping on our church back steps, or another steals a pint of milk when they come in to get a food bag.

We keep watching the world news, with all the hopes and fears for the people of Ukraine. With flooding in places like Pakistan and Kentucky. With horrible stabbings in Saskatchewan.

We face the loss of another public figure, or a celebrity, or a sovereign: Queen Elizabeth II. Tears are shed again. We face the retirement of leaders in our congregation – another minister goes this month!

And we face the personal conflicts of people in our families, or our neighbourhoods, or in our church.

 “O Lord, how long?” we might cry out, with the words of Psalm 13. “Will you forget me forever?”

Today, I simply want to suggest – to remind – that this is an important part of the answer. The prayer of complaining is an important prayer to use. A lament is a holy thing. We keep it in our repertoire.

I know it is so easy for me, in my life or ease and privilege, to want and pray that I might ‘lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and dignity.’ Yet, to pray for the best, and for all things, I must face the troubles of the world. My prayers are more powerful when they touch the deepest disasters and depths. Biblical lament meant praying deeply, praying honestly. We pray the same way today.

The book of Psalms is full of this. As is Jeremiah, from whom we heard today, and will again, in the weeks ahead. This moment, with prophet Jeremiah, appears to be when the Hebrew people were being conquered, and the leadership taken away as captives by the empire from the north, Babylon. And some of the sadness was from the belief that the people deserved what they were getting.

Listen again to some of those words of Jeremiah 8.

My joy is gone, grief is upon me, my heart is sick.

“The harvest is past, the summer is ended,

and we are not saved.”

O that my head were a spring of water,

and my eyes a fountain of tears...

To be grieved, and to express grief, is so important. In some ways, we do this well, I suppose. In some ways, we are not good at this. We have all likely been kind and comforting to some friend when they lost a loved one. We have also said dumb things too, and not been that helpful.

I remember a scene in the movie, “Mass Appeal,” that starred Jack Lemon, who plays a Catholic Priest helping a young priest-in-training, who is assigned to his parish. The Priest takes the young seminarian along to visit a woman whose senior mother has suddenly died. Father Farley says some of the standard, dumb things: she was old, she didn’t suffer long, someone else’s mother suffered for two years before she died...

After the visit, the young man, who had been silent, said to the priest: (Mark Dolson:) “...Everything I think of saying sounds so stupid.”

Father Tim Farley: "But that's the whole idea, consolation should sound stupid. That way, a person in grief can realize how inconsolable their grief is. Now, inconsolable grief puts a person in a very exalted position, and that's how most people get through tragedies. Now, it's your responsibility as a priest to raise common grief to the level of the inconsolable by saying something inane."

Mark Dolson: "What?!" said the student.

We have these amazing, ancient tools – the words of our scriptures – to lead and inspire our honest lamenting. Lament meant the sadness was shared, the grief shared, and understood.

Our complaints to God, about every hardship and sadness, are holy prayers. As life goes on, and as our discipleship to Jesus continues, our praying and sharing grief develops matures. Or, it can. Jesus wept for His friend, Lazarus. Jesus wept over the city of Jerusalem for the failures of the people. Jesus wept over the sacrifice He made for us all at Calvary.

Jeremiah of old gets called ‘the weeping prophet,’ and he gets credit for writing the book of Lamentations. Yet it is not totally clear who is speaking in these verses of chapter 8. Is this the prophet? Or is it actually God Almighty, weeping for the people?

“Why have they provoked Me to anger with their images, with their foreign idols?”

For the hurt of my poor people I am hurt,

I mourn, and dismay has taken hold of me.

What if we hear this as the heart of God, as much as the words of a man named Jeremiah? What if we remember Jesus’ tears, and moments of anger, and even exasperation... that were shared on His journey to joy and hope? Lament meant that the Creator also cries: God is with us. You may know Shirley Murray’s worship song: 

God weeps at love withheld,

at strength misused,

and children’s innocence misused,

and till we change the way we love, God weeps.

Christ will lead us to offer complete prayers. Perhaps, when we gather here, we won’t just offer confessions of sin together, but sometimes simply a lament for the problems that surround us. Give God our questions, our unanswered questions. Wrestle with the Spirit when we are seeking hope and health. Know Jesus’ tears are with us, and for us, and for others.

The story is told of a great theology professor, a famous teacher of preachers, who spoke at a conference. It was back, thirty years ago, when the worship wars were on in Churches: do we keep the old hymns? Do we sing the new choruses to guitars and drums? The famous reverend professor was asked, “Is it right for a Church to have a praise team?”

He responded, “I suppose so... as long as you also have a lament team!”

Let us come together in faith, not just to escape and get happy in the Lord. Let us gather, by the grace of Jesus Christ, to share our lamenting. Lament means being honest, it means sharing, it means God is graciously and powerfully with us. Hallelujah!

 

PRAYERS of the People:

Dear Jesus, our Saviour, Teacher, Lord and Friend: we do come to call out in Your name, because we can cast all our cares upon you. Many are the people we care about, many are the troubles we’ve seen, long is the lament we could offer. Hear our prayer, and let our cries for help come to You.

O Prince of Peace, there is such violence around us! We call out for peace because of the stabbings amidst the James Smith Cree Nation: heal, heal in heart and soul. We call out because of the war in Ukraine; we hear but some of the news each week: strengthen those who struggle and protect those who flee. We call out for all those places that have been facing floods; in Pakistan, Kentucky, Italy, Alaska, and beyond: set people’s feet on solid ground, and comfort those who mourn so much loss.

We weep with those who weep, Master. We weep with all who mourn Elizabeth, our Queen. And now give grace and wisdom to Charles III in his role in Canada, and beyond.

Great Shepherd and guardian of our souls, we ask for the Spirit to guide our lives and our ministry together. Today, the Terry Fox Run brings people together and supports the quest for healing: let it be blessed. This week, we and Springhill Baptist prepare for English Second Language classes: bless this as a ministry, and all who will benefit. This week, we and people we know are having tests, or surgery, or therapy, or ongoing treatments: be the Great Physician, and give courageous strength to all who face suffering. This week, our homeless and needy neighbours will be at our door again: you have blessed us so we may be a blessing: let it be so. And this week, Lover of our souls, we prepare to bless Donnie and bid him farewell in his long ministry among us: may our tears be tears of sadness and tears of joy. We are grateful!

Praise to You: Parent, Pastor, Paraclete: for turning our mourning into dancing and clothing us with joy! AMEN.

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