Guess there are times when we all need to share a little pain // And ironin’ out the rough spot Is the hardest part when memories remain // And it’s times like these when we all need to hear the radio // ‘Cause from the lips of some old singer // We can share the troubles we already know// Turn ’em on, turn ’em on // Turn on those sad songs // When all hope is gone (ah…) // Why don’t you tune in and turn them on? // They reach into your room, oh // Just feel their gentle touch // when all hope is gone // Sad songs say so much

“Sad Songs” Elton John and Bernie Taupin, 1984

But….all hope is not gone. I want to talk about something that I believe is overlooked, misunderstood, and sorely needed, perhaps no more so than in the age of Covid-19. We are hurting; one in three people are reporting anxiety issues; many are angry and all of us uncertain. As one person reported, it’s like being on an endless car ride with a drunk at the wheel.

I want to talk about lament.

Lament. It’s more than just venting. Lament is prayer, a passionate expression of grief or sorrow and it is something too many of us, the church included, find difficult to do. We have this silly notion that we cannot bring such expressions of anger, the desire for sweet revenge, and despair into our conversations with God: that we must somehow rid ourselves of such imperfections before God will be interested in hearing from us. Or that worship must always be upbeat, nothing but praise and joy- no ‘Debby downers’ allowed. And oh, then there is the unspoken true American religion of optimism and denial. Big boys don’t cry, so suck it up buttercup and get along with life. In the futile idealism that doesn’t match up with reality, we flat out refuse to acknowledge the darkness and evil realities of life in a way that honestly demonstrates our dependency on the Lord until we are wearied beyond belief. We cannot honestly face our anger and grief: we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us (1 John 1.8).

Lament is healthy and it is one of the most theologically sound practices you can undertake to express the pain, sorrow and grief caused by the suffering in your life. Lament allows you to hallow your anguish in prayer, both communally and privately. Lament is our divine invitation to talk to and with God, about our pain. We are blessed to have a God that weeps with us and in God’s own tears, works to heal and restore us – think Lazarus. Lament has an important purpose and that is trust. We know that our sovereign God has the power to deliver: the tomb is empty.

And here’s the beautiful thing. We have been handed a road map for lament from God for exactly that purpose: the Bible. The Bible is filled with these songs of sorrow: the book of Lamentations weeps over the destruction of Jerusalem; Job reminds us that there are more pains and unanswered questions in heaven and earth than we can grasp; Jesus lamented in the final hours of his life. And then we have the Psalms, likely the single best prayer guide ever printed.

Formulated as human speech, the psalms are God’s words put directly into our mouths to give back to God.  

The Hebrew title for the Psalter is Tehillîm – the Book of Praises, seemingly a contradiction as lament makes up the bulk of the book. That is a point worth pondering and praying on. Lament calls for opening yourself up to God with honest speech and when you do, you begin to break the logjam, allowing your tears to drench your bed and make way for the joy and praise that comes from experiencing God’s healing presence.

Lament: it is protest, it is petition, and it is praise. It is gift.

Protest. Turn to God. How long will you forget me, Lord? Forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long will I be left to my own wits, agony filling my heart? Daily? How long will my enemy keep defeating me? (Psalm 13.1-2). Humbly and honestly, identify the pain, the anger, the questions, and frustrations welling up inside.

Petition. Knock and state your case. Wallowing in sorrow leads to despair or denial. To seek God’s help with your pain is an act of hope and faith in God’s promises. Look at me! Answer me, Lord my God! Restore sight to my eyes! Otherwise, I’ll sleep the sleep of death, and my enemy will say, “I won!” My foes will rejoice over my downfall (Psalm 13.3-4).

Praise: The heart of the act of trust that lament is and where all roads lead: But I have trusted in your faithful love. My heart will rejoice in your salvation.Yes, I will sing to the Lord because he has been good to me (Psalm 13.5-6). This is language that renews our faithful commitment to trust in God as we journey through a broken world.

Many folks have found themselves and their circumstances in these prayers, myself included. What I discovered was that I found myself through them: an understanding of who I am, what I need and most importantly, I discovered the language to say it all to God. One of my favorite Irish poets caught this well:

Whenever God shines his light on me // Opens up my eyes so I can see // When I look up in the darkest night // And I know everything’s going to be alright // In deep confusion, in great despair// When I reach out for him he is there // When I am lonely as I can be // And I know that God shines his light on me. “Whenever God Shines His Light,” Van Morrison, 1989.

The lament psalms – more than a third of the psalter – they are praise in a minor key – the sad songs that say so much.

Note: There are many more than the following, but I offer a few suggestions to get started: Psalm 6, 11, 12, 13, 22, 23, 39, 40, 44, 46, 54, 62, 73, 88, 102, 109, 121, 137, 143.