Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Learning to Lament

“Lament is the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness.” Mark Vroegop, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy

Approximately one third of the book of Psalms is laments. Perhaps that’s why it’s often cited as the most loved book of the Bible. The heart cry of the writers feels real, close to the human condition. Despite the connection we have with lament psalms, lamenting is not something we intentionally do. We do not practice lament. 

Lament is the conscious mourning over the brokenness of the world. The loss of a beloved child, a devastating diagnosis, the unwarranted attack by a friend, such heartbreaking situations are made all the more confusing for those who have faith in the God who promises blessing and steadfast love. In moments of deep uncertainty, confusion, and fear, the believer asks, “Why? Must it be so? Can it not be otherwise? God, you have promised to be near, yet you seem so very far away.” But instead of locking these questions within, lament frees them, putting them out in the air before God in honest, heartfelt expressions of woe. Through the process of addressing God, making complaint, and laying out a request, the sufferer is brought to a place of assurance that God has not forgotten. He remains faithful to his steadfast love.

That process describes the usual composition of biblical laments and offers that practicing lament will bring the same outcome. But Psalm 44 demonstrates that it isn’t always so. The writer ends without assurance that God has heard his cry. We don’t know why he lacks certainty, but he does.

I would suggest that one of the reasons might be due to temperament. Perhaps his was a soul that was weighted toward sadness. I cannot say that with confidence about him, but I can say that there are people more disposed to sorrow than others and perhaps he was one of them.

Too many Christians are uncomfortable with such people. They feel the downheartedness of the mourner needs to be corrected, and in an effort to cheer, offer easy answers with selected Bible verses, implying that if the mourner would just believe the Word of God, light would break in on his darkness. It can take time, however, for light to dawn. People need to be given time to grieve, to question, to mourn. Our job is to be ready to “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). Patience is required, not haste.

In truth, learning to lament will bring us closer to Jesus. He had compassion  a deep gut reaction  when he saw that the “crowds were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd” (Matthew 9:36). He wept at Lazarus’s tomb and was “deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled” when he found Lazarus’s sister and those with her weeping (John 11:33-35). He mourned over the inevitable downfall of Jerusalem saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace!” (Luke 19:42).

In lament, God gives us space to grieve, mourn, question, and plead. Though his promise of steadfast love can cause confusion when circumstances make us feel he has abandoned us, it is also the basis upon which we lament. 

He has promised and he will be faithful.