The Gift of Lament

A while back I wrote about the little deaths we all endure, and how important it is that we face them head on, trusting in the resurrection which is sure to come. The problem with this is that we sometimes take faith to mean that we shouldn’t grieve, express doubts or acknowledge our pain. We seem to think that the truly faithful rise above these dark emotions and go through suffering with a blissful smile. I’m not sure where we got this picture from, but it wasn’t from the Scriptures.

In the Bible we discover a lot of grief and suffering, and often it is the most faithful, devoted people - the prophets and apostles - who face the worst of life. We might expect them to handle this calmly and gracefully, but instead what we find is a liberating honesty. These men and women of faith had no problem expressing their raw anger at God, their complaints and questions, their doubts and fears.

Take Jeremiah as an example. When faced with persecution for his message, he tries to keep silent, but finds that he can’t do it - which means that all he can expect is more persecution. He feels angry that he wasn’t told that it would be like this, and so he complains to God in Jeremiah 20:7-9, essentially calling God a liar! But God doesn’t strike him with lightning. Rather, Jeremiah’s faith remains strong, and he goes on to have one of the longest and most difficult ministries of any prophet.

Lament is a healing practice. Here the realities of our lives and the realities of our faith come together, and this always leads to a renewed faith. There are four basic parts to any true lament. First, a complaint is laid against God, expressing the details of the suffering being experienced. Second, God’s promises and previous gracious acts are remembered and offered to God as both the basis for the complaint (because God doesn’t appear to be doing what God promised) and the basis for hope that God will intervene. Third, a request is spoken for God to act on behalf of the suffering one and bring healing, liberation and comfort. Finally, a commitment is made to continue to trust, to hope and to praise God, no matter what the outcome may be.

It is unfortunate that worship has all too often been seen as nothing other than celebration. Joy and inspiration are emphasised and any signs of grief, doubt, pain or fear are to be hidden or left outside. The result of this is that worshippers are forced into a double-life in which their real feelings and experiences are either ignored or concealed. We get good at pretending that we are “blessed” on Sundays, and we cling to our faith with white-knuckles, hoping our grief won’t overwhelm and betray us - which it inevitably does.

Perhaps both we and our churches would be healthier if we just learned to lament more - to express our grief, to make our complaints against God, and to commit to faith even in the dark times. We all face both the little deaths and the big ones, and to try and deal with grief without the gift of lament is to rob ourselves of both healing and comfort. But, if we trust God enough to be honest about our pain, we will find the comfort we seek, and the light of hope will continue to shine in our hearts.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

More Than Just A Meal

It was a tough time for the two men walking that long road that day. Their hopes and dreams had been completely devastated when their friend and mentor had been executed. They would never have believed it could end like this, but it did, and now they were lost, aimless and confused.

When the stranger started walking beside them, they may well have been tempted to ask him to leave them alone, but they weren’t so far gone that they couldn’t fulfil the basic requirements of hospitality. So, they talked, and since their grief was foremost on their minds, they couldn’t stop the conversation turning to recent events and their struggle to deal with it all. But then the stranger began to explain things to them. He made it sound like there was a purpose to everything that had happened, that it wasn’t the great failure they thought it was. In spite of themselves they were captivated by what he was saying – so much so that when it came time for them to leave the road and settle into their accommodation for the night, they invited him to join them.

Then, as they sat down for the meal, the stranger did an unusual thing. He took the bread and lifted it up, speaking a word of blessing and thanksgiving, and then he broke it. They had seen this before, and as they realised what he had done, they suddenly knew that this was no stranger. This was their friend, their mentor, alive and with them. Before they could say anything, he was suddenly gone, but they knew what they had experienced, and they were changed. They now knew there had been no failure, that death had not been able to silence the one whose words had made such a difference to their lives. And they also knew that they would be forever changed, because in that one miraculous moment when they had thought that all was lost, they had discovered, through a simple meal, that the Rabbi Jesus was alive and would be forever with them.

This story from Luke’s Gospel (24:13-34) demonstrates the significance of meals in the life and ministry of Jesus. We know more about what Jesus taught at the table, than what he said in the synagogue. Jesus enjoyed meals with the wealthy and the poor, with religious leaders and with sinful outcasts. In fact, Jesus enjoyed a good dinner party so much that some of his opponents even called him a glutton (Matthew 11:17,18). I suspect that Jesus knew how powerful meals can be in building relationships, in giving space for conversation and connection, and in opening us to new ideas and experiences. It’s hard to sit at the same table with someone with whom you are in conflict, or to share a meal with someone with whom you would rather not associate. But, it’s equally tough to write someone off when you’re eating with them. More than this, meals also provide a chance to really get to know someone. Watch how a person eats, how they interact with others at the table, and how they organise their space, and you learn an incredible amount about them.

Which is why the Scriptures remind us that the risen Jesus was often recognised at meals, notably here, in the Emmaus road story, and in the early morning fish breakfast in John 21:1-14. This is probably also why Jesus instructed us to remember him in a meal, and why one of the central acts of our worship is a meal called Holy Communion. If you long to know God better, if you’re yearning for a deeper connection with Christ, and with a community that follows him, perhaps you could begin with joining a meal at your local church. You’ll find that it’s more than just your body that gets fed, and it’s more than just people you’ll be sitting with.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Choosing To Be Changed

When I was still in pastoral ministry I used to enjoy leading wedding services. I always had fun with the couple, both in preparation and during the service. I really believed that these were moments that could have a lasting impact, in spite of the focus of attention being on the couple and the party to come. Which is why I would often ask couples if they hoped to be married to the same person in twenty years. After watching them nod vigorously, I always enjoyed seeing their faces when I told them I that really hoped they wouldn’t be! Then, just as they were wondering why I should be saying such a shocking thing, I would explain that they were both going to change – they both should be changing if they were growing as people – and so the person they would be married to in the future would be a very different person from the one they were committing to on their wedding day.

Similarly, it was common for me to hear couples that had come for counselling because they were struggling say, “He/She is not the same person I married.” I always found myself wanting to say, “Well, what did you expect?” Whether we like it or not, whether we want it or not, we are always changing. Life’s challenges, joys and sufferings all leave their mark. Our friends, work colleagues and even some casual acquaintances can all shift what we value or how we see the world. If we’re not changing as people, we are not growing. And if we’re not growing, we’re still changing, but in a negative way - we’re stagnating and dying.

This is why the act of worship always calls for a response. When we encounter God through the songs, prayers and rituals of worship, we are faced with God’s purposes for us, God’s gifting of us, God’s call on us and God’s challenge for us to become the people we were created to be. Essentially, as God meets with us, God is asking us to change. That’s why the first word Jesus preached was “Repent” which basically means “change”. That’s also why Richard Foster, in his excellent book “Celebration of Discipline” stated: “To worship is to change”.

The problem is not whether we will change, but whether change will happen TO us or WITH us. If we ignore the changes that face us, or resist them, change doesn’t go away or leave us alone. No, change will still happen, but it will happen without our co-operation, and it will almost always be a painful process that leaves us broken and wounded. But, if we accept the normality and irresistibility of change, and co-operate with the process, we become partners with God in the processes of change that come into our lives, and the result is always one of greater wholeness, peace and life.

Worship teaches us to be co-operators with God’s change processes. As we are confronted each week by the Gospel, we are left with a choice – will we accept God’s call and partner with God in the change God seeks to bring to us and the world, or will we resist God’s call? If we embrace the challenge, the act of responding enables us to open ourselves to God’s Spirit and participate in the transformation the Spirit seeks to bring. Then, as we leave the sanctuary, we go back to our lives different from when we arrived, and a little more aligned with God’s purposes. The choice to respond and partner with God is one that truly changes not just us, but everything. And it’s a choice that we – and our world – need to make more than we may know.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Slowing Down

One of the big challenges in our world today is the pace at which life moves. In business, results are measured quarterly. In technology, things seem to change weekly or even daily. In journalism, the world changes from moment to moment. It’s as if we live with a constant sense of being left behind and needing to catch up. Perhaps that’s why psychologist Carl Jung said, “Hurry is not of the devil. It IS the devil.”

There are few things that can trip us up in our quest for God as much as the disease of frantic hurry. When you study the Scriptures, you discover that God works with an eternal view of time, and is not rushed or hurried by human events or agendas. Moses was prepared for eighty years before he began his ministry. Jesus was thirty before he began his. And it took thousands of years before the time was right for the incarnation to break into human affairs. Which is why, if we truly seek intimacy with God, we need to release our obsession with quick fixes and instant results. In spite of its promise, I have my doubts that a book that claims to teach deep meditation in a mere thirty days can really deliver.

It makes sense that dealing with God should take time. Even our human relationships require slow, focussed attention, and both quantity and quality of time. If it is true that God is always reaching out to us, then it is also true that we need to make time to respond effectively to God’s promptings. In human relationships, it is usually our quick reactions to one another that get us into trouble. In our divine relationship, it is our quick reactions that prevent us going deeper and finding the life we long for.

When God speaks, a true response requires reflection. God’s communications are almost always enigmatic, challenging and change-inducing. Jesus taught in parables so that people needed to think more carefully and take time to allow God’s word to emerge from the story and sink into their hearts. It is no different for us today. The first response God asks of us is to slow down and sit with God’s message. Then, we are invited to look inward and examine our hearts in the light of what God has communicated, allowing God’s wisdom to shift our perspectives and understandings and allow new insights into ourselves and the world to emerge.

But, it doesn’t stop there. Once we have taken the time to reflect, we are inevitably led into a deeper, more active engagement with God’s purposes. We will find that our response is not just one of thought or even of prayer. Ultimately, unless our response to God leads us into new behaviours, new attitudes and new ways of relating to one another, we have not truly responded at all. But, it takes time to know how to bring God’s wisdom into practical application in our lives, and so we must avoid the temptation to jump into quick solutions or easy actions.

A true, deep and slow response to God, then, implies that our acts of worship must not be rushed, filled with lots of words and actions, and overly busy. In a world of hectic, often thoughtless, activity, worship invites us to slow down, embrace silence and reflection, and make our choices carefully before we return to the routines of our lives. It may feel unfamiliar to enter worship in this way, but if we take God’s eternal perspective seriously, and if we really want to move into a deeper connection with God, ourselves and others, we will find that it is the silence and the slowness that meets the longings of our hearts.

Choosing To Respond

If my family ever want to make me insecure or upset, all they need do is refuse to respond when I try to connect with them. In the early years of our marriage, whenever Debbie and I had one of those tough conversations, she would clam up. In her family little direct confrontation was done, and so my forthrightness would often leave her silent as she tried to work out how best to respond. For her it was an attempt to create space so that she could reply thoughtfully. For me it felt like rejection and I would get increasingly upset as the silence stretched out, which, of course, only made it last even longer. Over the years, though, I have learned to see Debbie’s silence not as disengagement, but as a way to deeper engagement, and she has learned to reassure me with a few words that let me know she’s still with me.

In my work as a Methodist minister I have seen the lack of response used in relationships as a passive-aggressive strategy to “get under the skin” of a partner or friend. Disengagement gives us the power of control over the relationship, and leaves the other person powerless to make us connect. However, this refusal to engage seldom brings good outcomes. There may be times when it is wise to move away from one another and create space to think about how to respond, but this is not disengagement. It is engagement in a more careful way. When we disengage in order to hurt, manipulate or punish another person, the relationship is always set back, and trust is damaged.

The same is true of our relationship with God. I recognise that for many people the feeling of being abandoned by God can be very real and painful. The truth, though, is that God has promised to always stay connected with us. In Isaiah 49 the prophet speaks to the people of God in exile who were complaining that God had abandoned them. Into this place of pain Isaiah shares these words:

“Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you! See, I have written your name on the palms of My hands.” (Isaiah 49:15,16 NLT).

Once we know that God is always reaching out to us in love and grace, we have a choice to make. We can decide to shut ourselves off to God’s approaches, or we can take a step of faith, trust in God’s availability, and respond. One of the best ways to learn to engage in this “dialogue” with God is in the act of worship. Before rushing out of the sanctuary into the rest of our lives, we can take note of how God has reached out to us, and we can commit to one or two significant actions of response to take with us. It may be helpful to have a small symbol or ritual that reminds us, through the week, of our chosen response. Lighting a candle, or carrying a small meaningful object can be very helpful.

God is always seeking to connect with us. When we doubt this, it’s important to remember God’s promise, and take a moment to intentionally open to God’s grace. Then, we need to make the choice to respond. It may not always feel like it’s helping. It may even feel like hard work. But, if we’re willing to trust God’s promise and take the step of faith, we will always find that it was worth it. So, how can you choose to respond to God today?

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Awaiting Your Reply

Back in the eighties when I was a teenager, I used to love listening to a particular song by The Resurrection Band called “Awaiting Your Reply”. I remember being touched by the idea that God was communicating with me and awaiting a reply – a response – from me. Perhaps that’s why I have always found myself seeking for ways to create moments of response in worship gatherings, and why I have so often found these moments to be the most significant.

A few years ago, during Holy Week, I worked with a team to create a series of worship gatherings focussed on the work of Christ through the cross. On the first night, which was entitled “If Only I Could Start Again” we gave every person a silver coin. As the worship progressed, we witnessed through drama and Scripture and poetry and music Peter’s denial and Judas’ betrayal of Christ. Finally, in a moment of confession we invited people to come forward and drop their coins into hollow crosses that we had had made for the purpose. As music gently played in the background and the sound of dropping coins filled the sanctuary, I saw some people weeping, some praying and some filled with joy and relief. It was a powerful moment of worshipful response.

A few days later I learned from someone in our counselling centre that a woman had arrived the next day asking to see a counsellor. She had been in the service, and during the confession ritual, had held her silver coin with a burning grief and anger in her heart. The reason was that she had recently learned that her young daughter had been abused by a family member, and she was angry at God for allowing this to happen, and grieving for her daughter’s pain and loss of innocence. Then, she suddenly had a memory of a verse in the Bible saying something about redeeming a child with a piece of silver. In that moment she asked God to allow her silver coin, in some way, to be a redemption for her daughter. Then, as she came forward and dropped her coin into the cross, she felt the anger and grief inside of her break, and the first small signs of healing begin. She had come to our counselling centre seeking to continue the work that had begun with her response to God in worship.

In my experience God is always awaiting our reply. As we gather for worship, God speaks and acts, drawing us into intimacy with God’s self. But, for that intimacy to grow and deepen, we need to respond. For the worship encounter to change us in any way, we need to respond. For our worship to overflow from the sanctuary into the rest of our lives, we need to respond.

One common act of response that is used in many churches is the “altar call”, where people are invited to come to the front for prayer or to show a public commitment. Altar calls can be deeply moving, healing and transforming for many people, but they are not the only way to create moments of response. Sometimes a simple prayer, a time of silence, a symbolic act (like the coins and crosses), the sacrament of Holy Communion, or a carefully chosen song can be an equally powerful act of response. The important thing is not how we respond, but that we respond.

This response does not only happen on Sundays, of course. The response in a worship gathering is simply a way of learning how to respond to God all the time and in every place – because God is always speaking, always acting, and always awaiting your reply.

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.

Life As Prayer

A few years ago I was talking with a man who had joined a new church after going through a really tough time in his life. I asked how he was doing, and how he was settling in with his new community. His response shocked and saddened me. “This church rocks,” he said. “When I was struggling, in my old church they just said, ‘we’ll pray for you’. But, when I struggle here, people talk to me, and bring me food, and visit me!”

I must confess that it is exactly this all-too-common reality that has left me wondering about the usefulness of prayer. I have, unfortunately, seen too many hurting people left in their misery with nothing more than an assurance that “we’ll pray for you.” It reminds me of James’ words in Chapter 2 verse 14-16:

What good is it, dear brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but don't show it by your actions? Can that kind of faith save anyone? Suppose you see a brother or sister who has no food or clothing, and you say, "Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well"—but then you don't give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do?” (NLT)

When we say “I’ll pray for you” but leave it at that, we’re doing exactly what James critiques so strongly here. If prayer is used as an excuse not to get involved, our prayer has ceased to be prayer at all. But, when our prayer leads us to engage the world more compassionately, more practically, and more justly, then we have prayed well.

But, for our prayer to become a way of engaging the world, rather than an escape from it, requires us to revisit our understanding of prayer. Many of us have learned to see prayer something we “say” as opposed to something we “do”. We define prayer as “talking to God” about things. But, to view prayer this way makes Paul’s command to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17) both impossible and ridiculous. If Christians spent their entire lives talking to God, sleep, conversation with anyone else, and any activity that made speech (or directed thought) impossible would be out of bounds for us. This idea of prayer as “talking to God” has also resulted in huge controversies, especially in schools, in some parts of the world. When, out of respect for those who hold different beliefs, Christians are instructed not to pray, we can only be offended if we view prayer as words that must be spoken.

But, this is not the way the Scriptures view prayer. Richard Rohr describes biblical prayer in a profound and helpful way. “We pray always whenever we act in conscious & loving union with God, which eventually can be all the time—even in our sleep!” (From his Daily Meditations email of 31 August 2011). There is no law that can stop anyone from doing this in a school, or anywhere else. There is no situation in which anyone, whether a person of faith or not, would be offended by someone praying like this. This kind of prayer is active, engaged and connected. We pray when we look for, and point out, the signs of hope in our world. We pray when we serve others with compassion and humility, when we preserve their dignity and bring them life and peace. We pray when we engage the world with compassion, not judgement, and when we cooperate, in word, action, attitude, values and thought, with the principles and purposes of God’s reign.

Which is why we need the discipline of worship to teach us to pray. It is in worship that God’s reign fills our vision, and God’s purpose captures our hearts. Worship helps us understand what God seeks to do in our world, and what we need to do to participate. Worship teaches us that prayer is not just something we say, but something we are. Keith Green got it absolutely right when he sang, “Make my life a prayer for you…”

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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.

Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.