This year, the soul-searching of Lent has felt especially welcome. With all that has been happening since the first of the year, and the anxiety over what these changes will bring, I’ve cherished the focus of making the Lenten Journey, with Christ as our north star. Lent is also a time when we try to stay close to the Holy Spirit, and let our responses and actions come from that spiritual center in each of us.
Additionally, Lent is a time for lament as well as spiritual nurture. To lament means that we find ways to express the sorrow or grief we may feel, rather than holding it in or denying it altogether. Lament opens the door for healing, the strength to endure and, in some cases, for reconciliation. As a spiritual practice, lament can deepen our relationship with God.
Our readings this morning contain different kinds of lament. However, they all share a heart-rendering honesty of how the speaker understands the situation and how it ideally might be different. The speaker also invites God into the lament, so that the way forward becomes a shared journey, with God providing strength, endurance, and hope. Each lament offers a different lesson for the spiritual life.
God makes an initial promise to Abram, but Abram laments over having no heirs, which keeps him from trusting in God’s promise. After hearing Abram’s lament, God responds with specificity, promising him progeny and descendants. Lesson: If we express our lament to God, God listens…and will respond in due time—not, perhaps, fulfilling our exact wish, but guiding us to make something good out of a difficult or painful situation.
This morning’s psalmist trusts God to provide strength, based on God’s help during past hardships. If we were to listen to the rest of this psalm, we would hear a lament and plea for God’s continued guidance through the current adversity that the psalmist faces. The psalm ends with faith that God again will answer the lament with mercy and salvation. Lesson: God will give us the strength needed to endure–again and again—in part because our focus is on God and the eternal, not fixed only on what we are going through.
In our Epistle, Paul’s lament has to do with his beloved community of Phillipi being swayed by false prophets and teachings, rather than staying true to the way of Christ that he has put forward. The early years of Christianity was a spiritual marketplace of charismatic leaders vying for followers, each with their own versions of Christian faith. Some were legalistic to a fault; others had a hedonistic thread; yet others preached a gospel of worldly prosperity as a sign of God’s blessing, and where the poor are seen as undeserving. Paul was heartsick that the community was being infected by destructive teachings, and urged them to focus on the eternal goods rather than their worldly comforts. Lesson: Sometimes others may lament on our behalf, offering wisdom to reflect and pray over. Occasionally their lament might not fit, but it nonetheless offers an opportunity for reflection.
For example, as a young adult, I had a contract to write advertising copy for a department store. We had just finished the Christmas catalog, and my supervisor turned to me and said, “Sometimes I have concerns about what we are doing. We produce these lovely catalogs not to attract sales from wealthy customers—they pay in cash—but instead, for sales from those who carry large balances on our store credit card, where we make money.” As I listened, I thought, “Oh no; I don’t want to hear this. I’m having too much fun writing these ads.” I told her that I appreciated what she was saying, and privately decided to reflect on her lament later, when I was ready, since I knew her words had moral truth that I needed to consider. That day came sooner than expected: within six months, I would leave advertising.
Our gospel contains two laments. The first underlies the Pharisee warnings to Jesus about the danger he faced. We do know that some Pharisees valued Jesus even if they didn’t understand what he was about. The second lament was from Jesus–not about what awaited him, but rather about the fear and abuse of power by the religious establishment, keeping it from listening and embracing the will of God. Jerusalem, this holiest of cities containing the temple that was the House of God, was also a site of such violence: The prophet Zechariah was killed there; Jeremiah was condemned and barely escaped.[1] John the Baptist was murdered; Jesus knew his death awaited. Yet there was so much potential for healing and spiritual transformation. Jesus echoes God’s entreaty to the Israelites using the mother hen metaphor from the Wisdom literature (2Esdras 1:30). Lesson: Lamenting the “what could be” or “could have been” is part of our letting go, knowing that–like it or not–we must take another path, one perhaps not of our choosing, one that may lead to the cross. God must be in the midst of our lament, for the spiritual strength to take that path.
Despite the importance of lamenting, as a source of self-honesty and closer relationship with God, it’s not something that many enjoy doing. Sometimes a ”Lenten lite” journey is more attractive. Some either don’t want—or feel they can’t—handle lamenting. This was especially so during covid times. Some have feared being consumed by lament and not able to move beyond it, which is a real concern, especially if our feeling that we are loved by God, just for who we are, faults and all, is fragile.
However, avoiding lament can lead to what a colleague has called “the negative effects of toxic positivity,” “the belief that we must stay upbeat no matter how tough the situation may be.” [2] She also points out that when difficulties are glossed over, meaningful conversation can shut down. [3] For some, toxic positivity can make church feel superficial and inauthentic. We need to have a place where we can voice what is on our hearts, and where optimism is balanced with the honesty found in the ability to lament.[4]
The key to a healthy practice of lament is to, first, do it in prayer with God. Much like the psalmist, our prayer should recognize where we have felt God’s presence in our lives, whether directly or through others. We then make our lament by asking for further guidance and support.
Second, we can lament together as part of a community. The prayer of confession that we say in our liturgy most Sundays is an excellent model for both a personal and communal lament. If we were saying it this morning, we would—together–confess our shortcomings and—together–ask for forgiveness and strength to move forward, renewed and restored. It’s found on page 360 in the Book of Common Prayer.
Third, part of the pastoral care that we all can do as a community is to be good listeners, open to what others might say, trying to understand what a lament means for the speaker, from their standpoint, but not taking it on personally or trying to fix it. As a wise Catholic nun once told me, “Sometimes when you try to fix other people’s problems, you become the problem.” Sometimes professional pastoral counseling or medical attention is needed. If we aren’t sure how to respond, we can always ask if they would like us to pray with them—even if simply asking for God’s compassion and guidance in Jesus’ name. This brings God into the lament and focuses on the way forward, with God as a source for strength and hope.
A few weeks ago, an Anglican priest in the Democratic Republic of Congo contacted me and a few other friends. I had written a story on a peace center he had established in an area with severe fighting, that helps victims of violence heal spiritually from the trauma and rebuild their lives. It also teaches local leaders how to handle conflict without violence. With the latest bloodshed, his town was being threatened. He explained this in his lament, then asked simply for our prayers, that God might transform hearts to stop the violence. I and several others shared his lament and request, which now has reached across the worldwide Anglican Communion. Afterward, he wrote to say how encouraged he felt in being surrounded by so much care and prayer. His town has been spared just now, but there is much work to do with refugees flooding in, seeking to survive. Lament can be life and hope-giving when it is shared.
Church is a place where we invite God to walk with us amid our varied experiences and viewpoints. if we understand Lent as a time for journeying with God, we will be called to deepen our compassion and to act when and where needed.
What is on your heart? What kind of encouragement or hope do you most need from God just now? How might you invite God into your lament?
[1] Tashjian, Jirair. “Second Sunday in Lent: Commentary on the Texts: Luke 13:31-35.” The Christian Resource Institute. February 28, 2010. http://www.cresourcei.org/lectionary/YearC/Clent2ntl.html.
[2] Kamna Narain, “The Negative Effects of Toxic Positivity.” Coach Kamna’s QuickRead. February 28, 2025. Coachkamna@substack.com.
[3] Narain, “The Negative Effects of Toxic Positivity.”
[4] “How to Recognize and Avoid Toxic Positivity.” Harvard Business Review. February 19, 2025. https://hbr.org/tip/2025/02/how-to-recognize-and-avoid-toxic-positivity#
