Brueggemann expresses that lament language is evocative,
rather than descriptive (cf. Praying the
Psalms, pp. 29ff).
“The function of such lament speech is to create a situation
that did not exist before the speech, to create an external event that matches
the internal sensitivities. It is the
work of such speech to give shape, power, visibility, authenticity to the
experience. The speaker now says, ‘It is
really like that. That is my
situation.’ The listener knows, ‘Now I
understand fully your actual situation in which you are at work dying to the
old equilibrium that is slipping from you.’
The language may even run ahead of the event. Ricoeur (to whom much of this discussion is
indebted), following Freud, has seen that the authentic artist is not focusing
on old events for review (after the manner of the analyst) but is in fact
committing to an act of hope. Art
therapists know that persons who draw and paint are not simply announcing the
old death but are choosing a future they are yet to embrace. Thus the lament
Psalms of disorientation do their work of helping people to die completely to
the old situation, the old possibility, the old false hopes, the old lines of
defense and pretense, to say as dramatically as possible, ‘That is all over
now.’
When we hear someone speak desperately about a situation,
our wont is to rush in and reassure that it is not all that bad. And in hearing these Psalms, our natural,
fearful yearning is to tone down the hyperbole, to deny it for ourselves and
protect others from it because it is too harsh and, in any case, is an
overstatement. And likely we wish to
hold on a bit to the old orientation now in such disarray. Our tendency to such protectiveness is
evident in the way churches ignore or ‘edit’ these ‘unacceptable’ Psalms.
Our retreat from the poignant language of such a Psalm is in
fact a denial of the disorientation and a yearning to hold on to the old
orientation that is in reality dead.
Thus an evangelical understanding of reality affirms that the old is
passing away, that God is bringing in a newness (2 Cor. 5:17). But we know also that there is no newness
unless and until there is a serious death of the old (cf. John 12:25, 1 Cor.
15:36). Thus the lament Psalms of
disorientation can be understood, not in a theoretical but in a quite concrete
way as an act of putting off the old humanity that the new may come in (cf.
Eph. 4:22-24)” (Praying the Psalms,
pp. 30-31).
Lent is more than a time of expressing sorrow for our
sinfulness, it is indeed to be a missional journey requiring courage to embrace
disorientation so that we might be reoriented to a new way of being human,
particularly a new way of being human as exemplified by Jesus, and so being demonstrative
of what God’s redemptive mission seeks to bring about in all of creation.
So often we regress from such a missional journey by
succumbing to the temptation of going back to our old orientations. When we are disoriented we want to go back to
the way things were – no matter how bad they might have been because at least
we know what to expect, rather than looking forward to a future we have no idea
about. Like the Israelites in the
wilderness, we would rather go back to Egypt and slavery, than to head out in
the desert, discover what it means not to be in control of our lives, learn
dependence upon the Spirit of God – and through this journeying, even if it
takes 40 years, be reoriented to a new way of being human in relationship with
God, trusting God, open to God’s participation in our lives, and open to
participating in the life of God and in God’s mission in the world.
Reorientation can never come through our holding onto our
old orientations – they will only rot in our hands. Reorientation can only come through the dying
of our old orientations as we dare to journey through our being disoriented. Resurrection life only comes after death, it
can never come by way of clinging to ways of living that can never result in newness
of life.
Therefore, Lent is a time not to conserve what we have nor a
time to hold onto our mere perceptions of life, but, rather Lent is a time to
dare to journey with the Spirit of God, to allow the Spirit to lead us out into
the desert, to experience, even embrace, disorientation rather than fighting it,
so that we might be open to seeing our old orientations for what they are –
dead – as we come to a new place of being reoriented to the life of God in us –
and grow, mature, in becoming human in ways that we are only able as we
identify with Jesus Christ and live in the presence and power of the Holy
Spirit.
May we this Lent embark on a journey that embraces death, but reorients
and leads us into life.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment