Welcome back to Week 6 of the Confession series! I’m hoping this article finds you and your family safe and healthy.
Not too long ago, experiences of deep trauma and lament were something to be confessed. Getting an abortion or divorcing an abusive husband, for example, was considered sinful in most churches. And rather than responding with compassion, many congregations heaped shame upon the victims in situations like sexual abuse or suicide.
But the last few decades have seen a seismic transformation in mainline thinking. Thankfully, these types of difficult situations–experiences of lament–are now often seen as events that require extra levels of pastoral care, not confession.
This shift has taken place across a variety of domains—from seminary education to theological literature to denominational policy. But in practice, in our congregations, these experiences of lament have moved into a kind of grey zone.
They don’t belong in confession anymore (thank goodness!). But they’re also not acknowledged or discussed elsewhere.
Two weeks ago, I talked about House for All Sinners and Saints, a church in Denver. Here’s a quick recap: After the sermon, the congregation writes down their prayers and confessions. Worship leaders then read them aloud during prayers of the people.
People definitely confessed remorse for actions they considered sins—speaking harshly to a loved one, for example. But there was also a different kind of unburdening going on, too.
One of my interviewees gave me the best example: “Someone said the other day, ‘I just had an abortion, and I’m glad, but also really sad.’”
People were also unburdening themselves of difficult decisions or experiences—experiences of lament—that weren’t necessarily sins. And they were able to do so without the burden of shame and guilt so often associated with confession and forgiveness.
This kind of unburdening carries many of the same pastoral issues as confession does. Both require privacy and sometimes anonymity. Both often involve mourning. Both sometimes call for healing and pastoral support.
But they are also very different from each other. For instance, experiences of lament are much more likely to manifest from traumatic situations than in the day-to-day decisions.
I don’t have the training to tell clergy how to pastorally support people who do come forward to talk about experiences of lament. That’s not the point of today’s article.
My goal, rather, is to seed a shift in church culture so that people feel comfortable coming forward and unburdening themselves in the first place. For churches to be relevant, it’s necessary–and all too often very far from the norm.
Among many of my Millenniel/Gen Z friends, if they were the victim of abuse or experiencing mental health issues, a clergy-person would be the last person they would turn to.
Even people in your congregation might not feel comfortable doing so, especially if they’ve seen victim-blaming from churches before. So how do we change that?
Preaching About Experiences of Lament
The first and most important thing is to definitively distinguish between what is a person’s responsibility and what is not. In other words, draw a clear line between what calls for repentance and what is, instead, an experience of lament. Churches victim-blamed for so long—and so many still do—that there is massive confusion and misunderstanding about what churches think what is a sin.
This problem is compounded by the upsetting lack of conversation about hard topics like abortion and divorce.
Let me give you an example. I have visited four or five mainline services where Matthew 5:27-32 came up in the lectionary. That’s the passage on adultery and divorce in the Sermon on the Mount. Since divorce affects 50% of U.S. marriages and two-thirds of American children, it’s fair to assume that it’s a relevant subject in most congregations.
Most of these churches’ pastors faithfully preached on the Gospel lectionary every single week. But when this text came up, their sermons turned into the Super Bowl of defensive avoidance techniques.
One changed the lectionary readings to avoid having it read at all. One preached on the Hebrew Testament reading exclusively. One actually preached on another part of the Sermon on the Mount that wasn’t even in the lectionary that week.
And, unfortunately, one pastor decided to preach on the text but got so flustered that he couldn’t preach a clear message. He ended up waffling on whether people in abusive marriages should leave their partners.
I believe that most mainline pastors are ultimately supportive and loving towards people who are going through traumatic situations. The pastors I know would unconditionally support survivors and victims, and they would do so spectacularly.
But despite being adept at private pastoral care, many pastors still don’t feel comfortable talking about those experiences of lament from the pulpit. And I’m concerned about that.
Because if pastors treat these topics as taboo in public, very few people will feel comfortable coming forward to discuss them in private.
Especially when topics like sexual assault or suicide come up in the lectionary or the news, they have to be addressed head-on. Sidestepping them implicitly declares them taboo and invites shame to grow.
One important caveat: taking a right-or-wrong stance on thorny issues, like abortion, creates “sides” that can alienate people who disagree with you. Instead of declaring a set postion, perhaps focus on addressing the pastoral issues that come up from these situations. That might actually bring your congregation into deeper connection and belonging.
On non-controversial issues, like abusive marriages or sexual assault, I’d encourage you to openly show your support for the safety of the abused. All too often, the church has traditionally condemned victims, and in the mainstream American media, they still have a reputation for doing so. Clearly announcing your advocacy for the protection of victims is crucial to changing the narrative about churches being a haven for those lamenting.
Making room for Experiences of Lament
I recently received a newsletter from my church in the wake of the coronavirus. It gave me a really helpful model for inviting people to seek pastoral care after experiences of lament. At the bottom of the newsletter, a note read, “We want to know if any member of our congregation becomes infected. If you or a loved one does become ill from the coronavirus, please reach out.”
That kind of statement is exactly the sort of thing that can encourage someone to reach out and unburden themselves. It could say something like, “If something difficult or traumatic is happening in your life, I want to know so that I can support you. Please email me or call to set up an appointment.”
Statements like that might show up in your bulletin, newsletters, and announcements. When that becomes the norm, it will invite people to see the Church as one of their first resources in the midst of a difficult decision or situation.
Experiences of lament are no longer things to confess in mainline Protestantism. Denominational policies and theology have shifted from blaming victims to providing pastoral care. But these experiences still need a place in our church conversations.
How can your church strengthen its pastoral response to experiences of lament? How might it become more open? How are you already encouraging this unburdening in your community?
Much love to all of you as we head into Holy Week. If you’re a layperson, checking in with your pastor to ask if you can help them out is such a gift. If you’re clergy, remember you don’t have to do everything by yourself—in the age of COVID-19, there are amazing resources for everyone to share!