In my last blog, I wrote about being present to our personal and collective woundedness. I feel that it is just as important to acknowledge my pain as it is to acknowledge my joy. In truth, they are two sides of the same coin. We don’t recognize our full range of emotions unless we have felt the full range of our emotions. Although we don’t often use the word, to lament is not just to mourn, but to mourn deeply and publicly.

Last week, Fr. Richard Rohr’s daily meditations talked about public lamentations. The Hebrew people not only mourned privately, but they publicly lamented deep loss. This is in deep contrast to our modern culture which tends to downplay any kind of strong emotional response, especially if it is public. When a politician or celebrity cries on camera, social media has a heyday, creating memes that spread like wildfire. When a woman cries, she is considered to be too emotional. When a man cries, he is considered weak. Those who are grieving deep losses are expected to get over it and get back to “normal” in a matter of days. People are even afraid of breaking down at funerals! I find myself apologizing for my tears if I “lose it” in public. Tears are reserved for private spaces when one is alone because we wouldn’t want to make anyone else uncomfortable.

So many of us are feeling the deep grief of the past few years. We have experienced so many deaths, so many losses. However, We are clear-eyed about what is happening to the earth. We understand the consequences of trying to hide the truth of our history, of book bans, of inequity, of denying the personhood of so many classes of people. And in that clearness of vision lies a deep grief. I don’t know about you, but it makes me want to wail, to cry out to the God/dess in my own helplessness and frustration. I have thought many times that we need a national day, not of prayer, but of mourning which includes a set time for all of us to collectively raise our voices in one giant primal scream.

Brian McLaren, from the Center for Action and Contemplation, says that public lament is important because our tears keep things alive for us – they keep alive the folly of what is happening, the rage toward injustice, the desire for change, and the creativity of truth-telling. Lament is what keeps us from giving up and going along with the status quo. Lament is what drives us to change things, to turn around and change direction, to be open to new and better possibilities. Lament opens the door to growth.

My wonderful spiritual director, Eunice Schroeder, wrote: “But what if they [tears] are evidence of a deep flow of Spirit? What if they are a (often misunderstood) gift? Someone once told me that tears are ‘God’s lubricant.’ What if, when given the gift of tears, we are invited to join with the whole family of humanity in experiencing ALL the emotions of life itself?”

I have come to believe that I am not the only one who is experiencing a feeling of deep grief for the world in which we live. I invite those of you who feel that grief to embrace it as gift, a gift of the God/dess which calls us to lament and cry out together for change in the world.

Barbara Garland
April, 2023