MONDAY
Up to this point in the campaign, we have talked about how God fights for us and the type of people we need to be to trust God to fight for us. We have seen God fight for us in dying for us, thereby substituting himself in our place to pay the penalty that our sin deserves. He has risen for us, thereby giving us his eternal life in Christ. He also lives for us and intercedes for us, thereby preserving us in the faith. We saw from the Old Testament passages how God delivered the Israelites at the Red Sea by parting the sea and swallowing up the Egyptian army pursuing them. We saw God causing the walls of Jericho to fall down when the Israelites walked around them and yelled at them. We saw God destroying 185,000 Assyrian soldiers to deliver the people of Israel from the threat of destruction. All of these are awe-inspiring ways in which God fights, and has fought for his people.
For my last topic in this campaign, I want to address the reality of our experience and the reality that Scripture reveals—God doesn’t always seem to fight for his people. He doesn’t always do what we want. He doesn’t always deliver Israel in the Old Testament from invasion. He doesn’t always heal. He doesn’t always save us from suffering and pain in the here and now.
First, I recognize this is deeply painful point for all of us. We have all experienced suffering in this life to varying degrees. Most likely, while in the fire, we prayed for God to deliver, heal, or intervene in some way that would alleviate the suffering. These are likely the most passionate, heartfelt prayers we have prayed in our lives. Before a loved one died, we prayed for healing. Before we lost our job, we prayed for another option to present itself. Before a divorce we prayed for a change of heart. During the abuse we prayed for intervention. In answer to these prayers, we heard nothing or we heard “No” and that has left us bewildered, deeply saddened, and angry.
In many of these tragic instances, we are left with the impression that God did not fight for us. Such moments of perceived divine absence can lead some to question or distance themselves from the Lord. We ask, “How can God be good and allow this to happen? How can God be all powerful and loving and allow this to happen?” These are natural questions in the midst of terrible suffering.
Hebrew culture has a category of writing called laments for times like this. In English, to lament is to “express sorrow, mourning or regret.” It is to cry out in grief or even to levy a complaint. The Hebrew terms translated lament are tied to the singing of a funeral dirge. The Old Testament book of Lamentations is named for the first word of the book (êkāh) and “how?” is the usual translation. It is an interrogative but usually not translated as a question but as a deeply felt expression of loss. Lamentations 1:1 begins with, “How lonely sits the city that was full of people!” It is a common expression in a Hebrew funeral dirge. Lamentations is an entire book of laments. Many of the Psalms are laments.
In our post-Enlightenment era, I fear we have a weakened ability to lament. We require answers for everything. We are uncomfortable with mystery, and more importantly, we are uncomfortable with surrender. We struggle with the notion that we are not in control of everything and, therefore, all that is to be done is to lament. We want to change it, fix it at any cost. We even have movies like the Avengers that teach us that perhaps science can give us a solution to even go back in time and undo some of the greatest tragedies in life. We feel as if we are owed a happy ending and if God won’t give it to us perhaps we can create it ourselves. It is, in part, for this reason that John Mark Comer and Mark Sayers say in their podcast series titled “This Cultural Moment” that our culture is the worst culture in the history of the world to deal with suffering.”
I remember when I was in college at Trinity International University (RIP 😢), well known Christian musician Michael Card visited the campus and played a concert. One of his recent albums (I think it was The Hidden Face of God from 2006) was basically all laments, and he played a number of them for us. It was unfamiliar to me. Let’s just say it was uncomfortable for me!
But there are moments in life that confront us with the reality that we cannot, despite all of our efforts, eliminate suffering. There are tragedies in life that we simply don’t have answers for. In those moments we are left with only a lament.
I’ll leave you today with the lament of Psalm 88. This is one of the most heart-wrenching laments in Scripture. Most of the Psalms pivot at some point to express one’s trust in God in spite of the suffering. This one does not. It begins with the affimation that God is the God who saves. Then it proceeds to lament that God is yet to save.
Psalm 88
A song. A psalm of the Sons of Korah. For the director of music. According to mahalath leannoth. A maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.
1 Lord, you are the God who saves me; day and night I cry out to you. 2 May my prayer come before you; turn your ear to my cry. 3 I am overwhelmed with troubles and my life draws near to death. 4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like one without strength. 5 I am set apart with the dead, like the slain who lie in the grave, whom you remember no more, who are cut off from your care. 6 You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths. 7 Your wrath lies heavily on me; you have overwhelmed me with all your waves. 8 You have taken from me my closest friends and have made me repulsive to them. I am confined and cannot escape; 9 my eyes are dim with grief. I call to you, Lord, every day; I spread out my hands to you. 10 Do you show your wonders to the dead? Do their spirits rise up and praise you? 11 Is your love declared in the grave, your faithfulness in Destruction? 12 Are your wonders known in the place of darkness, or your righteous deeds in the land of oblivion? 13 But I cry to you for help, Lord; in the morning my prayer comes before you. 14 Why, Lord, do you reject me and hide your face from me? 15 From my youth I have suffered and been close to death; I have borne your terrors and am in despair. 16 Your wrath has swept over me; your terrors have destroyed me. 17 All day long they surround me like a flood; they have completely engulfed me. 18 You have taken from me friend and neighbor— darkness is my closest friend.
Reflection
If you are going through a season of sadness and it seems as if God hasn’t fought for you, consider writing a lament. Writing it out can help you grieve what you have lost and express your emotions to God.