Lamenting at Easter
How can we find hope and hold onto faith in this chaotic moment?
Public Theology is based on the work of Zach W. Lambert, Pastor of Restore, an inclusive church in Austin, Texas. He and his wife, Amy Lambert, contribute to and moderate this account. Zach’s first book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, is now available wherever books are sold.
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How can we find hope and hold onto faith in this chaotic moment?
Because make no mistake about it, we are walking through a time of chaos filled with very real pain—both in our personal lives and in the world around us. In just the last few months we’ve experienced:
The United States starting a war in the Middle East. Thousands of people have already died, including 165 children after their elementary school was bombed in Iran.
Ongoing wars and humanitarian crises in places like Ukraine, Sudan, Gaza, and Myanmar which have displaced millions of people.
Attacks on our neighbors and our civil liberties.
The rapid expansion of authoritarianism and political violence around the world, with democratic institutions weakening.
The economic ripple effects of war and instability, with soaring energy and food costs hitting low-income families and vulnerable communities the hardest.
This is on top of the everyday stresses of jobs, relationships, mental health, family, faith, money, and worrying about the future. Being a person in the world is never easy, but it’s especially challenging in this current moment.
All of this is why we celebrate Easter. We are not running away from our problems or burying our heads in the sand—we are following the example Jesus. About a dozen different times in the Gospel accounts, Jesus withdrew from the chaos to spend time with God, either alone or with some of his closest friends. These were not random occurrences. Withdrawing was a regular rhythm of Jesus’ life.
As followers of Jesus, we want to encourage you to intentionally choose this same practice this week and weekend, even if just for a bit. Maybe a quiet, early morning with a cup of coffee, an afternoon walk, a late night meditation where you carve out time to just be and think.
Along with Easter weekend comes Good Friday, and I can’t think of a better way to process these events than to walk through a process of lament.
Let’s look at Psalm 13, a psalm of David and a psalm of lament. We often associate lament with hopelessness, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Choosing to grieve the brokenness in our lives and in our world is actually an act filled with hope.
