Liturgy of the Month: December

Storytelling is powerful. For some, it serves as an act of speaking against silence. In sharing our stories, we demand to be heard. We give voice to the events of our life and make meaning of them for ourselves and others.

I have recently found my storytelling voice in the art of crafting liturgy. In doing so I am able to share pieces of myself with God and others. Below, is a lament I crafted for women abused by clergy. Within the lament, I share bits and pieces of my own story as a survivor of clergy abuse. Thus, it needs a content warning. If you are in a space to hear or read it, I hope that it speaks to you. If you are not, that is absolutely okay. Be gentle with yourself in this space. Additionally, my preferred pronouns are she/her, so I speak as a woman to women in this liturgy. This does not mean that this story is one that only resonates with women’s experiences. This can happen to any gendered (or non gendered) person. Perhaps engaging the liturgy below means inserting your own preferred pronoun. Maybe it means re-narrating it a bit to fit your experience. I invite you to please do so.

I chose to write about this particular experience as a way to participate in my own healing and, hopefully, in the healing work of others who share this experience. I have wailed it in private, read it among friends, and even explored what does and does not still resonate as I continue along in my journey.

Additionally, survivors are often silenced. This lament was one way I rebel against this injustice. The process of narrating our life may overwhelm people, particularly if what we share is a painful experience. Which is why I gave a content warning. It is okay if not all people are ready to engage with all stories. This does not mean, however, that our stories are too much. Nor does it mean that we are in the wrong for sharing them. Even the Bible is full of stories of joy, blessing, darkness, pain, abuse and grief. It is filled with stories of men and women who refuse to be forced into silence. Those stories are worthy of being old and dwelled in. Just as God gives voice to God’s people in the biblical narrative, so too does God give us voice. We are also worth listening to.

I wonder what stories you feel called to tell. Are there moments you’ve experienced that storytelling would serve as a practice of healing for you? Stories you’d like to share in celebration?

Maybe the liturgy below is healing for you. Maybe it’s the first time you’ve thought about liturgy this way. Whatever it means for you, may you engage your experience of it with grace and curiosity.

Love, Maddie.

A Lament for Women abused by Clergy

Content Warning: Clergy Abuse

Reverend

Preacher

Pastor

Prophet

Man of God

Lord who molds us

Are we still in your image even when we defile it? 

From the pulpit he proclaimed that we are

Blessed

Sinful

Forgiven

Worthy 

Called

In private he proclaimed that we were

Lying

Misreading 

An attentive secret keeper

His best friend 

A good girl

We feel

Marked as victims

Skin burning where he touched us

Dirty 

Lord, do we still need you to make us clean if we didn’t ask for the stains in the first place? 

Are sins done to us also ours? 

Do we repent the sins of someone else?

Do we still need to die to rise again with Christ? 

Where were you?

When we were screaming. 

El Shema

God who hears Hagar

May we know you hear us too

Empower us to listen when you respond 

Proclaiming that we are

Clean 

Healed

Good

Survivors

And still in your image.