Can I Cry At Church? Why We Need To Learn To Lament

"How lonely sits the city that once was full of people! How like a widow she has become, she that was great among the nations!"

(Pixabay)

As I sit and read these words on a beautiful Autumnal day in the thriving metropolis of London, they seem a world away. This ancient passage comes from the first chapter of the book of Lamentations – the collection of poetry which makes up the book is all written in the aftermath of a cataclysmic event: the destruction of Jerusalem by the Babylonians.

The Holy City had fallen to the forces of Nebuchadnezzar in the early sixth century BC and then he ordered its ruin a few years later. This wasn't merely an inconvenience to the people of God. It was almost the end of the world.

Jerusalem was not only the centre of commerce, culture and worship – it was the place where they met God in the Temple. Solomon's dizzyingly beautiful temple was destroyed as the city was razed. No wonder that as well as being homeless, the people felt utterly bereft.

It's in this context that the book of Lamentations was written and would have been read. The people were taken into exile in Babylon and while they were there, they were in a state of mourning. It's obvious why the book has a tone of despair and at times, full-on existential angst.

"See, O Lord, how distressed I am, we read later in chapter one, "my stomach churns, my heart is wrung within me, because I have been very rebellious. In the street the word bereaves; in the house it is like death."

The language is stark and far removed from our experience of poetry or music in today's Church. In various wings of the Church, different aspects of the character of God are preached on and proclaimed. Yet how often do we practice true lamentation together? Rarely, if at all.

There are, of course, some good reasons for this. Lamentation isn't without its consequences. If we dwell upon and lament the crises and catastrophes of our lives, it will leave us open and vulnerable to others in church who we may not know well. Spending the duration of a church service in tears is an affront to the British idea of the 'stiff upper lip' and the American ideal of positive thinking.

In addition, the small house-based churches of the New Testament were places set up for lamentation – among fellow believers who were in deep relationship with one another and interacted on a daily basis.

Many contemporary churches just don't work that way. Can you really lament fully alongside someone you've never met in the chair next to you at the megachurch service? Probably not. Can you have your own time of lament when the general tone of worship music is positive, victorious and any semblance of corporate lament is quickly resolved? Again, probably not.

This isn't a call for corporate donning of sackcloth and ashes every Sunday. Clearly there will be a time and a place for lament. Corporate lament may be about our city, our country or even the whole world. Individual lament may be following a bereavement, a lost job or a broken relationship.

If we can't find a place for this lament, we're really not taking the Bible seriously. The reading from the first chapter of Lamentations is part of the set of readings for churches around the world this Sunday. The set readings also include Psalm 137, ("By the rivers of Babylon – there we sat down and there we wept when we remembered Zion"), and Habakkuk 1, ("O LORD, how long shall I cry for help, and you will not listen? Or cry to you 'Violence!' and you will not save?")

Our Bibles contain whole swathes of writing on doubt, devastation and destruction. While we shouldn't necessarily wallow in these feelings, if we can't express them in church, then we are missing a part of our corporate life.

If we don't allow space and time for lament, then the stereotype of Christians as 'good people' who 'have it all sorted' is given fuel. Soon enough, the Church looks like a club for good people who have their lives in order. That becomes very problematic when inviting others in – if they feel there's no space to lament as well as celebrate (in other words, to be themselves, a whole human being with a variety of experiences and emotions) then Church may remain unattractive.

Lament is neither easy nor comfortable. For those very reasons, we should be finding space and time for it.