May 6

May 6 Dirges, Praises, and Doubts

There’s an added pain to facing difficulties and griefs during times that are usually filled with joy. While this Paschal season has had its own unique beauty, it’s also certainly had its own unique suffering. This is a heavy time for the whole world, and that heaviness can feel incongruent with the blooming trees surrounding us and the joy of Pascha we greet each other with.

I’ve always especially loved the Lamentations service during Holy Week, but this year, even amidst all the ensuing celebrating and feasting, I haven’t been able to stop singing it. I don’t want to place more emphasis on Christ’s death than His Resurrection, so I feel a bit odd writing about Holy Friday in this season set aside for the joy of Christ’s defeat over death. It’s been curious for me though how much I keep coming back to the Lamentations verses, so I’ve been prayerfully considering why that’s been the case.

For one, I know the beautiful music we sang the verses to has certainly not hindered them from becoming a pleasant earworm for me, but I know it’s more than that. The Lamentations service is essentially Christ’s funeral, and it’s deeply connected to our Orthodox funeral service. The text is written to be an expression of what the Theotokos likely felt at watching her beloved Son and God die a gruesome death and then be sealed in a tomb, but it’s not just unstructured wailing. The verses in their entirety are written around Psalm 118 (119 in Protestant Bibles), which is the central psalm for the observance of both the Resurrection and funerals. The Lamentations service is the Matins service for Holy Saturday morning, so even though it’s basically Christ’s funeral, it’s also the first Paschal service. The Lamentations start out solemn and wend their way into joy but are filled with worship in even their most gutted moments. They end by saying: “Every generation to Your grave comes bringing, Dear Christ, its dirge of praises.” Dirges and praise, grief and hope, loss and love, the reality of the death that we still experience and the reality that Christ has defeated death are all woven together.

I’ve also been coming back to the Thomas Sunday hymns and mulling over what they tell us about the Lord’s heart for us when we’re hurting. The hymns don’t shame Thomas for his refusal to believe in the Resurrection until he saw it for himself, far from it. They even go so far as to call his doubt “beautiful.” I try to picture what it must have been like for him. He had abandoned everything in his life to follow Christ only to see Him be tortured and killed and buried. Then, while Thomas was out, Christ appeared to everyone else. Who can’t relate in some way to hearing good news and struggling to believe it because you’re in pain and don’t want to add crushed hope to that pain? While much of the world refers to him as “doubting Thomas,” the hymns of The Church laud his great faith. His honesty about his doubt gave us all the beautiful encounter we have of Christ allowing Thomas to thrust his hand into His side. Thomas’ experience of doubt led him to his proclamation of faith: “My Lord and My God!” I love stories like Thomas’ where it seems someone has been overlooked, but we know the Lord just had something unique and beautiful in store for them.

I am so thankful for these hymns surrounding Pascha and the reminders they give us that having doubts isn’t a sin and grieving and joy can go hand in hand. These hymns beautifully model for us a path forward through our own doubts and griefs. We can look boldly at our own difficult emotions while offering our own pained praise. I want to always be moving towards Christ, bringing my struggles to Him, laying them at His feet, and resting there, instead of trying to ignore them or shoulder them alone. I want to walk through grief and doubt and come out on the other side of them more deeply rooted in Christ’s victory over death as my own triumph over the darkness I experience. I want to be part of my generation’s offering of its own “dirge of praises” to our Dear Christ, our Lord and our God.