Happy Birthday as Lament

Happy Birthday as Lament

Today was a guest’s birthday. As is our tradition at Manna House, we sang “Happy Birthday” very loudly and as off key as possible. Another guest had tipped us off to this guest’s birthday. The tipster knew that this rather curmudgeonly guest would be both delighted and consternated by the attention. And he was. He could not help himself. By the end of the song he was smiling.

            Shortly after the song, I was standing in the backyard near where both of these guests were seated, and the tipster asked for “the Word of the day.”

            Since we had just sung “Happy Birthday,” I selected Luke 2:8-14, “In that region there were shepherds living in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night. Then an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, ‘Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign for you: you will find a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger.’ And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom God favors!’”

            “I’m no Jesus,” the curmudgeonly guest observed at the end of the reading. “No angels announced my birth.”

            “I bet your parents were happy though,” responded another sitting nearby. “You weren’t so crabby right from the start.”

            “Maybe so,” the curmudgeon reluctantly conceded, “Maybe so.”

            “Even Jesus’ birth was terrifying, at least at first” another added. “Those angels had to calm everyone down.”

            “He sure came with a lot of hope,” said another, “And that’s what I’m taking from this Word today.”

            I often wonder about the way in which each of our guests entered the world. Were they welcomed with love and celebration, or was there rejection and despair? Were they born into poverty or somewhat better circumstances? Did they grow up with hope and promise? Or did they grow up with shattered dreams? Over the years I have gleaned from guests that most started in poverty. Many were raised in surroundings that offered little support, and many experienced neglect and abuse. For most, any joy there might have been at their birth quickly gave way to harsh impoverishment.

            I learned today the story of a young guest. He was given crack when he was just a child of eight by his mother’s “clients” as she prostituted herself to feed her own crack addiction. His upbringing was more “slaughter of the innocents” (Matthew 2:16-18) than the initial joy of Jesus’ birth. What hope can he ever have? He has been on the streets since he was a teen. He is a difficult person to be around, and we struggle to offer him welcome.

            Later in the morning, Kirk pointed me to an article by Soong-Chan Rah in Sojourners on lamentation. “Lament is not the passive acceptance of tragedy. Lament is not weakly assenting to the status quo. Lament is not simply the expression of sorrow in order to assuage feelings of guilt and the burden of responsibility.” Lament involves listening, sitting with the reality of suffering, refusing easy answers, but also not giving in to injustice. Lament resists by its very cry of complaint. - See more at: https://sojo.net/magazine/septemberoctober-2015/no-easy-road-freedom#sthash.NqQV7NJI.dpuf

            In the Gospels, from the birth story of Jesus to the slaughter of the innocents, “Happy Birthday” becomes lamentation. Angelic song gives way to “A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children.” In the backyard at Manna House both joy and lamentation are present. And maybe our off-key and loud singing bring together the angels and Rachel weeping for her children, refusing to be consoled.