Lent in Exile

“By the rivers of Babylon—there we sat and there we wept when we remembered Zion”

--Psalm 137:1 NRSV

 

            Lent gives us an opportunity to reflect on the darker side of biblical faith.  After all, it is a time of mourning as we prepare for the joyous celebration of the resurrection and new life.  And before we get to the celebration, we must go through the desert and examine the themes of grief, loss, guilt and exile.  This year I find myself particularly drawn to the biblical texts about Exile.

            Exile.

            The Biblical Exile happened when the Babylonians invaded Judah around 586 BC and captured the best and the brightest and brought them to live in Babylon.  They had to live apart from their home.

            Away from their families.

            Away from their friends.

            Away from home.

            It is a particularly cruel punishment because at that time transportation wasn’t easy and more than likely the Israelites who left were never going to be able to come back.  They would never see their families or friends or home again. They would never know what happened to those they cared about. 

            They were forced to live in a foreign land, where they did not speak the language and they did not know the customs.  Anybody who has ever spent time in a culture different than your own knows what it feels like to not fit in.  When you don’t speak the language, when you don’t know the customs and when you don’t understand the culture, there is a loneliness that cannot be explained.  You are outside.  You are other.  You are alien.  The Israelites never overcame that feeling.

            A biblical scholar once said that “Exile is not not having a home.  It is having a home but never being able to get there.” You can imagine home.  You can remember home.  You can almost see home, but you can never get there.  You can see the place where you belong, where you fit, but will never arrive.  Even though the world around you may be filled with wonderful people, places and foods, you are never home.  Even in your happiest moments  you know something is missing.

            Those of us who have spent a lot of time away from home can catch a glimpse into this feeling.  Although for us it may never reach the level of the ancient Israelites, the power of Exile can affect us in ways.

            We go on deployment to new countries with a new crew and we feel the power of Exile from everything we once knew.

            We get a diagnosis of cancer and we can feel the power of Exile stripping from us the power of normality.

            We leave our parents and childhood home, never to return, and go off into the world and you look back and sense the power of Exile.

            As I reflect on my own experience, I have to admit that this is where I live.  My situation is not as bad as others, but exile affects me every day.

            I can see home through pictures and messages and Facebook, but I can’t be there.  This weekend my son lifted his head for the first time and I could not be there.  This weekend is a huge celebration for my family (St. Pat’s is always big in my house) and I will not be there.  I will see the messages and the pictures and make the phone calls, but the physical presence of being home…of being where I belong…is gone.

            This is not to say that I do not have great people or great things out here in Japan…but it’s not home. I live in a (for me) foreign culture where I do not speak the language and where I cannot get the cultural norms right.  Even though I love Japanese food and art and the landscape, I am not home.  I work for a great team, but I am not home.  Even in my best moments, there is a pervasive loneliness and sadness that echoes in my heart: I do not belong here.  I belong at home.

            So as I continue my Lenten journey, I will think about these things.  I will sit by the rivers of Babylon and weep.  Because, I, like the Israelites, live in Exile.