Hello my friends,
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The world has felt heavy in recent years, but weeks like this are especially so. I have struggle to know what to say or if I could say anything worthwhile at all. So I decided to simply share my experience of these last few days and extend a simple invitation into lament to process our world that seems so intent on revenge.

Recommended Resources​
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​-Prophetic Lament: A Call for Justice in Troubled Times by Soong-Chan Rah. The American church tends to avoid lament. But lament is an essential component of Christian faith. Lament recognizes struggles and suffering, that the world is not as it ought to be. Lament challenges the status quo and cries out for justice against existing injustices. Soong-Chan Rah's prophetic exposition of the book of Lamentations provides a biblical and theological lens for examining the church's relationship with a suffering world. It critiques our success-centered triumphalism and calls us to repent of our hubris. And it opens up new ways to encounter the other. This is a resonate exposition of the book of Lamentations.

​-Prophetic Imagination by Walter Brueggemann. This is still a book I consider a classic theological text for our time. It is as powerful as it is brief. If you are looking to reignite your passion and hope to bring change where it feels like there isn't any, you may find this deeply encouraging. Brueggemann traces the lines from the radical vision of Moses to the solidification of royal power in Solomon to the prophetic critique of that power with a new vision of freedom in the prophets. Linking Exodus to Kings to Jeremiah to Jesus, he argues that the prophetic vision not only embraces the pain of the people, but creates an energy and amazement based on the new thing that God is doing.

​-indigo: the color of grief by Johnathan Foster. My friend Johnathan wrote a very personal and powerful book on his journey through grief and shares it in a way that others can find a path in the midst of their sorrow too. If that is something you're looking for, I recommend checking out his book.
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​-Heather Cox Richardson on Pod Save America Heather Cox Richardson has become one of the voices I deeply admire in our time. She is not only a brilliant political historian, specializing in the history of the United States, but she is also a brilliant communicator, able to put present realities into much needed historical context of our country. I found this episode to be both deeply helpful and actually quite hopeful. I encourage you to give it a listen.
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Practicing Lament In A World of Revenge

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Lament is one of Scripture’s most neglected spiritual disciplines and one of its most powerful. At its heart, lament is not mere sadness, nor is it passive despair. It is the sacred practice of bringing our grief, anger, and confusion honestly before God. It is an honest refusal to accept things as they are. The psalmists cry, “How long, O Lord?” not as a rhetorical question, but as a protest born of covenant hope trusting that God hears and that God cares enough to act.
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Historically, lament has been the language of God’s people in times of injustice, exile, and catastrophe. Israel lamented by the rivers of Babylon. An entire book of the Bible is dedicated to the practice of lament, called “Lamentations.” Jesus lamented over Jerusalem and lamented from the cross in his final hours. The early church lamented persecution and martyrdom. Lament has never been a retreat from the world but a refusal to let the world’s violence harden our hearts. It resists the quick, corrosive seduction of revenge by keeping us tender before God and open to one another.
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In a world, where vengeance is often celebrated and outrage monetized, lament is an act of holy rebellion. It keeps us from numbing ourselves or retaliating in kind. Lament names what is broken, mourns what has been lost, and dares to believe that God’s justice will come, not through our retribution but through God’s redemption. Practicing lament is how we keep our souls from being deformed by the very evils we grieve.
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Lament is not only personal, it is profoundly communal. Throughout history, lament has been the way oppressed and hurting communities have held on to their humanity and hope.

Consider the Black church in America. For centuries, enslaved people were forbidden to read, gather freely, or express their pain publicly. And yet, through spirituals, songs of sorrow and hope, they lamented. These were not simply hymns of endurance; they were acts of resistance. To sing “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen” or “Go Down, Moses” was to insist that their suffering mattered to God, and that Pharaoh’s empire would not have the final word.
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Lament gave them a language to mourn injustice without losing sight of God’s promise of deliverance. It allowed them to resist revenge, even as they prayed for freedom. Their brave, courageous, and faithful example reminds us that lament is not weakness but a form of holy strength. It keeps us from being crushed by grief or consumed by rage. It allows us to make room for however we are feeling, while also engaging in community and connection that keeps our humanity and the humanity of others first and foremost.
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In our fractured world, I believe practicing lament, both individually and together, is how we stay tender without becoming bitter, how we long for justice without mirroring the violence of those who harm.

Lament In Practice​
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I discovered the power of lament early on in my ministry as a pastor of a small church, fresh out of seminary. In my first six months of my ministry there, our small community suffered more than 11 deaths within our aging congregation.
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As you might imagine, walking alongside a family after a death of a loved one is as nuanced and complicated as it is sacred. Everything comes to the surface as we process grief and each person experiences loss in their own unique way.
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While some may be deeply crushed by the loss of a loved one, someone from the very same family may experience anger and resentment, while yet another may experience relief and even feel guilty for being relieved.
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I have officiated funerals where only praise was spoken about the departed, while others were tense with bitterness over unresolved abuse.

In journeying with a family through loss, the practice of lament has taught me the importance of making space for people to process their individual experiences, no matter how unique or difficult it may be. Lament makes the space in the context of love and healing, rather than shame or revenge.
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Lamenting Today

I cannot help but see the similarities between these experiences in my first church and what so many are going through in this moment. Myself included.

On September 10th, Charlie Kirk was shot while speaking at one of his rallies at a university in Utah and he died from his injuries. He was 31 years old.
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When I first read the news, my heart sank for so many reasons. My mind first tried to grapple with what happened. I believe every human life bears the image of God, and whenever a life is taken, the whole world is made a little more fragile. I felt that fragility deeply in that moment and still do.
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Having small children the same age as Charlie’s, my mind then rushed to them and his wife. I simply couldn’t imagine the pain they are going through. I prayed for them in that moment and still do.
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My mind then rushed to the daunting reality of rising political violence in our country. Earlier this summer, Minnesota state legislator and former House Speaker Melissa Hortman and her husband were murdered in their home by a man impersonating a police officer, a man with a hit list of dozens of other public officials. The targeting of public servants and political activists tragically seems to be a growing trend.
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I then considered how urgent it is for all political and faith leaders to unequivocally condemn political violence and pursue peace and unity. I didn’t agree with Charlie or the way he presented his views, but I firmly believe that our country should be a place where people can speak without fearing for their lives or the lives of their loved ones. This includes people who believe as I do and those who don’t. No matter the political ideology, violence is never the answer. Violence does not heal. Violence does not restore. It only multiplies grief, makes us less free, and just perpetuates more violence.
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It felt like an eternity as my mind tried to grapple with the scope of it all.
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Then moments later, I learned that there were multiple acts of gun violence that took place across our country, including at Evergreen High school in Colorado. All while we are still grieving the shooting at Annunciation Catholic School. All while we are still lamenting our refusal as a society to do anything substantial to reduce gun violence. While we are still living in a country where parents like myself always have in the back of our minds that this may be the last time we see our children when we drop them off at school. When will we collectively prioritize our children and their safety and their future? When will we take gun violence seriously?
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Too many families, like Charlie’s, will go to bed missing someone they loved. More lives were ended by a uniquely American epidemic that has become all too tragically “normal.”
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As people began to reach out to me for help processing what happened, I again found myself encountering how different each person’s experience was in response to someone’s death. Like the families I walked alongside in their time of loss, I saw how each person's grief reflected the unique way they knew Charlie.

For those who only knew Charlie for his Christian motivational speaking, they expressed to me deep sorrow, grief, and even anger, with only positive remembrances of Charlie's legacy. For them, they had lost a hero of the faith. Many said they saw him as a martyr for Christianity.

For many others, who knew him for his political activism, they expressed to me how complicated their grief was in this moment. How they were deeply lamenting this horrific act of violence against Charlie and also how they have long been lamenting his rhetoric and its consequences in their lives. How they have watched first hand how such rhetoric motivated policies and harm against immigrants, people of color, Muslims, people from other religions, LGBT people, and women. I listened to medical professionals who during the Covid pandemic lamented over the deadly spread of disinformation from people with huge platforms like Charlie’s. I listened to and lamented with fellow pastors as we witness such rhetoric upheld as the trademark of what it meant to be a true Christian in our country.
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Yet even as people processed their complex laments with me, none of them wished harm on people like Charlie. Even in their angriest moments, their expressed desire to me was to see our common humanity to be understood and elevated rather than division and hate. Their desire was to see minds and hearts changed, not for people they disagreed with to be harmed in any way or for tragedy to befall them in any way.
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That is the goal of lament. Making space for grief in all its forms to be heard in the hope for positive change to come.
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I deeply believe this is what our faith in Jesus calls us to: not to celebrate harm, not to become numb to death, not to desire the worst on someone we disagree with, or to gloat if they fall. That is not the way of Jesus. Jesus wept over the city that rejected Him. He healed the ear of the man who came to arrest Him. He prayed for those who crucified Him. To follow Jesus is to refuse the reactive logic of revenge, spite, or indifference. To follow Jesus is to see a world full of neighbors to be loved, not a world filled with enemies to be conquered. We desperately need a revival of love right now.

Lament Is The Way Forward

This is why I believe lament is the right response right now. Not bitterness, not gloating, not resignation, and certainly not revenge. True lament opens us to the Spirit’s work of healing, justice, and peace. True lament keeps our hearts soft in a world that would rather grow hard. True lament reminds us of our own humanity and shows us the humanity in others. Imagine what our world would be like if we chose to honestly lament and process our pain together in community, rather than be turned against one another in our grievances and perpetuate an endless cycle of revenge.
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So, I choose lament. I lament in order to honestly name all the complexities of loss, harm, suffering, and pain in our world with the desire to move towards a better one. I lament in order to draw closer to God and my neighbors. I lament so that I can stay in touch with my humanity and the humanity of others. I lament so that I can discover a pathway of justice rather than bitterness. I lament so that I can make room for hope again.
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And then I pray: Lord, have mercy. Teach us to mourn with those who mourn. Teach us to hunger for justice without losing compassion. Teach us to walk in the way of peace.

A Simple Practice of Lament​
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Lament is not complicated, but it does require courage and honesty. Here is a gentle way to begin:
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-Name the pain.
Write or speak aloud what has been lost, what grieves you, what feels unjust. Be specific. Lament begins by telling the truth.

-Bring it to God.
Use the psalms as your guide. Pray the words of Psalm 13, Psalm 42, or Psalm 88, adding your own words. Say, like the psalmists, “How long, O Lord?”

-Express the full range of emotion.
Lament is not polite. Cry, shout, whisper, or sit in silence, whatever your heart needs. God can handle your anger, confusion, and grief. Let it all out.

-Ask boldly for God’s action.
Pray for healing, justice, and restoration. Trust that God is not indifferent but working even when you cannot see it.

-Wait with hope.
Lament ends with a turning, however small it may be, toward trust. It may sound like, “Yet I will hope in You,” even if your tears still fall.

Now I'd like to hear from you! Did you find this helpful? What thoughts came to your mind as you read? Feel free to respond to this email and share your thoughts with me. I look forward to reading them. New 30 Day Devotional: I recently wrote a 30 day devotional in hopes to provide a companion for people seeking to follow Jesus in our world today. You can read more about it here: $20.00 Following Jesus In A World Obsessed With Empires: 30 Days of reclaiming the hope, compassion, and justice of Jesus. Today, our world can often feel overwhelmed by darkness, division, and despair. I created this 30-day devotional to... Read more Get it now! ​ Ways to support: If you'd like to support this project, you can do so through one-time-gift of any amount you feel is right. You can also subscribe through a $5/mo, $15/mo, or $25/mo. Several others have also asked for a recurring gift option that is different from the ones offered here, like this one. If you'd like me to set up a different option for you, please just send me an email with the word "support" in the subject line. As always, I really want to thank all of you for reading and for all the ways you support me and this project every single week. I'm thankful for the ways we are building this together and hope it creates a lasting, positive change in our world along the way! I sincerely appreciate you all, Ben Remember, you can now view this and all previous newsletters as well as invite friends to join through this link: https://benjamin-cremer.ck.page/profile.

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