The Bible and James Baldwin on Lament

James Baldwin was no stranger to feelings of alienation, disillusionment, betrayal, and fear for the fates of the marginalized. When we reckon with events that threaten our hope for the future and trust in one another, Baldwin and the Bible have words for us.

“James Baldwin” painting by Jeff Benesi

Sad Songs: Singing the Blues and Biblical Lament


Now, you women, hear the word of the LORD;
open your ears to the words of his mouth.
Teach your daughters how to wail;
teach one another a lament.
Death has climbed in through our windows
and has entered our fortresses;
it has removed the children from the streets
and the young men from the public squares.
– Jeremiah 9:20-21

“They gave our sorrow and our danger back to us, transformed, and they helped us to embrace and triumph over it. They gave us back our joy, and we could give it to our children. Out of the depths of the midnight hour, we could laugh.”
– James Baldwin: “Last of the Great Masters”

Where do we go when we’re discouraged? How do we go on when we are too world-weary to put one foot, one word, one thought in front of another? Baldwin likened himself to a blues singer, albeit one who didn’t know anything about music and couldn’t sing. This African-American musical tradition and the Old Testament Writings offer a soulful and honest way through our personal anguish to recognizing and reclaiming our collective humanity.

Write your own Psalm of Lament or Blues Song

It takes powerful language to articulate a powerful experience, to put words to what we feel might be too deep for words.

  • First, tell what happened. In one line. Strip away the context and consequences and even emotion (for now) and describe the worst moment of the whole experience in one telling detail. Pack the rest of the story into three more similar, one-phrase lines. (If you find they rhyme, you’re writing the blues, if not, we’ll just call it a lament.)
  • Take some time to pray. Identify the burning question kindled by this experience. Sometimes it’s simply “Why?” or “How could you?” but it might be something else. Ask the question, and listen for the answer. This doesn’t guarantee there will be one, but listen for it.
  • Now write more freely. What do you want to say now that is completely unacceptable to say? Write it down. Change up the way you describe your feelings. If you could concentrate this emotion on your tongue, what would it taste like? Don’t be afraid to use heightened or strong images. Some of the images in the Psalms are almost too strong to stomach, even theologically problematic (e.g. God bless anyone who bashes in the skulls of the children of the people who did this). Don’t worry about being correct or even fair to all parties. If God could watch this happen, God can handle what you have to say about how it makes you feel. Skip anything that softens it. No euphemisms or “maybes” or “I feel likes,” just what is. Pour it out there. How has the world changed since? End with one concrete example of something you do differently now.
  • Pause to reflect. What do you want or need in light of this? What do you want to be able to do again? Wait for a concrete image of what wholeness would look like now. Ask for it.
  • Describe in writing what it is you are waiting for.

This is the 2nd in a series of 8 devotions that was featured, in slightly altered form, on our bible app in March 2022 as ‘The Gospel according to James Baldwin*

Click here to read the first in the series

Link

What a week. Every day another story of violence around the globe and close to home. And Sunday’s coming. How to respond in worship when we are feeling gutted, threatened, horrified, ravaged by the world, pushed beyond any rational response in measured tones? Remember our “rage belongs before God–not in the reflectively managed and manicured form of a confession, but as a pre-reflective outburst from the depths of the soul. This is no mere cathartic discharge of pent up aggression before the Almighty who ought to care. Much more significantly, by placing unattended rage before God we place both our unjust enemy and our own vengeful self face to face with a God who loves and does justice.” – Miroslav Volf. Click above for more from W. David O. Taylor’s blog, including a Prayer of Penitence excerpted from a Liturgy of Reconciliation and Restoration, produced by the Church of England.

It’s a lovely prayer, but much further down the spectrum toward a “reflectively managed and manicured… confession” than most people will walk in ready for. In fact, I think many of us are disoriented and overwhelmed. The world persists in being worse than we were prepared for. We need an opportunity to place that “unattended rage [despair, fear, etc.]before God.” Even if it’s something as simple as giving people a few quiet minutes of access to pen and paper to pour out their guts. What phrases keep running through your head? What images? What do you want to yell from the rafters? What do you want to spray paint on a wall? What do you need God to hear? What are you afraid God will know you are thinking? Get it down. Get it out. Have it out. Tack it face-down to a temporary wailing wall. This bit is between you and God. No one else will look at these, so don’t censor yourself. We can know that those pages will be all over the map and still bring them together before God to transition into corporate lament.

And what might that kind of corporate lament sound like this week? Click below for a powerful example which ends “We need new songs whispered into our ears, new rhythms to pound in our chests, so that we may join in the chorus of new life. God of love–you open our eyes to the suffering all around us. AND WE WILL SEE God of justice–you open our ears to those who cry out in pain. AND WE WILL HEAR God of healing–you open our hearts to expose our own pain and the pain of the world. AND WE WILL BEAR IT TOGETHER” – Ian Simkins.

After the lament we are prepared to recognize and repent of our own parts in the disorder of the world with that reflective prayer of confession. Let the music reflect this progression as well. Dwell on the stages of lament and avoid the temptation to rush to that “but it’s all good with Jesus” tune you like to end on. We can end declaring we have a hope and a future, but this service isn’t about cheering ourselves up.

Also this week, the sending is key. We cannot simply leave comforted or emotionally spent and numbed, content with our own individual consolation or private commitments to choose love over hate in the abstract, having made our peace with the world as it is. We hope to leave renewed, more sensitive than ever, with resolve, and charged to do the work of making peace with one another. In the words of Erin Wathen, “When hate gets this loud and violent, we are called beyond love. We are called to active compassion; prophetic speech; deep listening; transformative engagement”