A few days after shots were fired at a presidential campaign rally, there was a large, violent storm in our neighborhood. Dire warnings arrived on our phones, promising lashing rain, hazardous hail, and wind gusts of up to eighty miles an hour. While we missed the hail, and I don’t think the winds got that high, there still was plenty of damage. Entire trees were broken and/or uprooted, while a church friend shared photos of the damage done in her area to porch roofs, siding, fencing, and railings.
During my morning walk the next day, I came upon this baby bird. It looked so peaceful, lying there on the sidewalk. I presumed it had fallen from its nest during the storm. As I crouched down and got still, noticing my sadness at the loss of this tiny creature, I realized it was still breathing!
My heart broke at that point. I found myself thinking of the many children whose bodies have been broken by bombs in Gaza, starvation in Sudan, and abuse in homes across the globe. I decided to take a picture of this baby bird because, in that moment, it became a powerful symbol of the state of our world and our need to lament.
That bird was still breathing, but I knew there was no hope. There was no way all its fragile bones had survived such a fall. Even if I could have returned it to the well-hidden nest, its parents could not have effectively cared for it. When it died, its body would contaminate their home.
Sometimes, lament is our only option. As a society—regionally, nationally, and globally—we have unleashed multiple storms that are now uncontrollable. Those storms take many names, such as the climate crisis, violent nationalism, and rabid hatred and/or fear of “the other” in all its God-created(!) forms.
Where will this lead? I do not know, but I do believe we are called to lament. We need to lament instead of turning away or hardening our hearts. We need to lament:
- children who have been killed in Gaza and Ukraine
- those who are starving, around the world and across our cities, because food is not distributed equitably
- everyone who has no access to clean water
- people whose homelands are being lost to sea-level rise, such as in Tuvalu
- the erosion of personal rights in this country and abroad
- children whose parents take them to rallies and churches(!) where hatred is spewed from the stage
We need to lament. It’s a good first step in acknowledging that life should not continue as it is. We must not become numb and accepting of these things…somehow…one day at a time. (Next week, I’ll offer another response we can choose, one day at a time.)
What would you add to this list? What shall I join you in lamenting today?
As always, thank you, my friend, for your deep insights and the beautiful way you weave your thoughts together. Richest blessings on you.
You’re welcome, John. I’m glad that my reflections speak so profoundly to you.
Peace,
Shirin
I would add to this list people who are experiencing homelessness in this country where there is such a great disparity between the haves and have-nots. It doesn’t need to be this way and it shouldn’t! Thank you, Shirin, for reminding us that to lament is sometimes our only possible response.
You’re welcome, Aston, and thank you for adding to our list. May we lament all the societal assumptions and pressures that lead to homelessness as well.
Peace,
Shirin
Lament is a great word. Somehow it touches the heart and soul differently than grieve. Lament perhaps is a more collective word as we face the many losses and sadnesses we face each day with no clear way to express the pain because there is so much pain and we are cultured not to whine. Lamenting to me is acknowedging important suffering as humans.
Thank you, Tom, for contributing your reflections on the the word “lament.” I believe it is critical for us as the human race to acknowledge others’ suffering….
Peace,
Shirin
Thank you for putting words to the feeling that has haunted me for sometime.
You’re welcome, Joyce. I’m glad to help you find words.
Peace,
Shirin
I recommend Rev. Soong Chan Rah’ s book
” Prophetic Lament. ” I want to organize a study group on it…
Thank you, Suzanne. I appreciate the recommendation, and I hope your study group is blessed! (If it’s online, let me know….)
Peace,
Shirin
Intergenerational scars from Canadian Residential School.
The human lament cry draws us into the Mercy, always fresh each day (Lam.3)
Indeed, and amen. May all such deep scars be increasingly healed….
Peace,
Shirin
https://youtu.be/vGfQS1yNhaQ?si=oaKd3d1PNJlcPijy
Since I long ago heard these lines from Carl Sandburg: “the fog is creeping on little cat’s feet…” I am grateful for people like him who allow me to plumb the depths of lamentation, lifting me … the words escape me. Shirin, you are a blessing in my life.
Oh, Adeline, I’m glad that my invitation to lament led you to this powerful and deep connection. I understand how words can escape us, and I’m grateful to be part of the blessing network in your life!
Peace,
Shirin