When all you can do is pray

To say that last Sunday’s service was challenging to lead is an under-statement. I’d planned a theme around types of prayer and St. Patrick, and then the realities of the Ethiopian plane disaster and the Christchurch mosque massacre hit. Things felt topsy turvy and I considered tossing what I’d planned.

I was aware that the people coming to worship would be in a variety of places - some oblivious to these tragedies and others so troubled by the news that they barely made it into the building. I tried to be reassuring, to introduce some different ways to pray, and to model having it together in the face of disaster and having absolute trust in God even with humanity’s awful potential for evil. Despite all my planning, some things went off the rails. Even I went a bit off the rails. It probably wasn’t as bad as I remember, but it wasn’t a good feeling.

Looking back, I probably hadn’t properly taken the time to work through my own emotions about what people are capable of doing to each other. My not really looking at my grief, anger, frustration and perhaps even shame that we just can’t seem to get it together and be good to each other, impacted my worship leading. When I served in an education role and tough things happened like the Sandy Hook massacre it was the same. I realized the weight of being a leader and addressing the grief and questions of others. Because these kinds of traumatic events are so hard to deal with and shocking, our young people especially need reassurance.

There is a strong temptation as a leader to take on a Messiah complex. We can feel the pressure to have all the answers, to not be emotional ourselves as that means weakness, to be the one to carry everyone through the crisis and to be the place of safety. We may be called to do some of this, but it becomes blurry if we’re not constantly pointing to the Prince of Peace as our own comfort and recognizing our own limitations and humanness. It is God who will carry us as we seek the Spirit’s presence and comfort and guidance. It is God who knows the extent of the damage of our living and choices and who will ultimately make all things new again. It is God whose arms are wrapped around the situation and who works all things together for good far beyond what we could understand or see.

Lent is a season that particularly opens the way to lament. We need to cry out to God, to shake our fists at what isn’t right, at what is unjust, and at what holds us back from how things were created by God to be, even as we grieve Christ going to the cross for us for just these reasons. I need to take the opportunity to lament, to get it off my chest instead of burying it and becoming numb. I need to remember that the words I preach apply to me just as much as to those in the pews - that God is big enough to deal with our not so pretty emotions, and that God wants nothing more than for us to come just as we are, despite our mess and foibles, and to find comfort in the divine presence.

For some of us, it’s tempting to get caught in lament and to not move through it. It can be like a blanket of complaining and sorrow and darkness that reassures us that things are bad and we’re stuck and can be miserable. But while God accepts and hears our lament, we are not to stay there. God calls us to accept reality but in so doing to partner in creating a new one. We are challenged to be part of kingdom building in large and small ways. We are privileged to be Christ’s body and to continue the work of reconciliation, peace and justice. What that looks like in your worship community and programs will be unique, but it begins in prayer for what God is asking of us in this time.

I’ve seen pictures and posts of how Sikhs are providing food for families of those who lost loved ones in Christchurch. I’ve seen the Prime Minister of New Zealand in solidarity and wearing a hijab out of respect while promising financial and other support to survivors. What will our response be? What is God asking of us in our own communities to provide comfort and combat the darkness?

May you feel resilience and God’s strength as you find comfort in God’s presence and as you discern what God is asking you to bring to this moment.