Music Mondays

Continuing to let the melody and music of Les Mis guide us, I invite you to listen to the above recording of, "At the End of the Day".

While the tune is catchy, if you listen to the lyrics, it is certainly not one of the most up-lifting songs you will ever hear.  Lean into the opening words:  At the end of the day you're another day older; And that's all you can say for the life of the poor; It's a struggle, it's a war

I am sure your first reaction is, "Um thanks for this, Wes...I think I'll go watch the news which will be more inspiring than this."  But stay with me for just a moment.  What I find profoundly powerful is how these words are an honest lament.

Life can be a struggle, especially for those who are pushed to the fringes of our society.  Life is not easy for the most vulnerable.  Often, those of us who have a cushion or bubble around us, don't see that. 
Life can be a struggle for those whose economic status is a bit better.  The struggle of making good decisions because we know that one illness or one crisis can send us into a tailspin.
Life can be a struggle for those who are a bit higher on the ladder too, especially if the person feels responsible for others.  To be sure, money can insulate you from the struggle of others.  But, we should be careful with stereotypes of anyone.  There are bosses who don't want to lay off workers or toss and turn at night trying to think of creative ways to keep their businesses thriving in these strange days.  There are people who want to help.

To lament is not just for one sector of society, but for us all.  We have can feel the stress and strain of daily living.  Which leads me to a second point, that our shared suffering, even as a common experience, rarely brings us today.  Look no further than the current COVID-19 crisis.  To be sure, it is hard to find unity in social distancing and self-isolation.  But, even so, the polarization that has been growing now feels like a gap the size of the Grand Canyon.  We divide ourselves into camps, circle the wagons, and proclaim that our group has the right way.  We do not let our shared suffering, the fact that we all are worried about our health, our finances, and our future connect us.

We don't even talk about it!

What if, rather than asking, how are you doing...our greeting in these days would be from the great theologian Rudy Sales, "where does it hurt?"  I know that would be odd, but it would be more honest than me saying, "Fine," through clinched teeth and a tightened jaw.

Where does it hurt for you right now?
Where does the ritual of lament, of being honest that life is a struggle help open you?
Where might we begin to find traces of God's grace in the most unlikely place ~ not only in the joy but in the truth that at the end of the day, we wonder where we are going?

May such questions invoke and immerse you in a promise that God is there in the valley as well as in the mountain top moments of life.  And may God surround you now more than ever.