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http://www.reformedworship.org/article/june-2010/my-god-my-god-why
By Stacey Gleddiesmith
My quest to understand the psalms of lament began in the midst of a
deep period of depression. I had spent a wonderfully rich two months in
Ethiopia, recording Christian Somali music for broadcast from Ethiopia
over Somalia. During my time there I received numerous “prophetic words”
that doors would open for me when I returned to Canada. But within a
few short months of my return I was unemployed and living in the
basement of a friend’s parent’s house. My familial home had burned down
and a friend of mine had committed suicide. These were not the doors I
wanted opened.
I was deeply disillusioned with God, completely buried under my
grief, and spent most of my days either in a futile job search or
sleeping. During this time I was still leading worship at church, and my
depression inevitably deepened on the weeks I was to lead worship. At
the time, I was unable to pinpoint the reason for this, but when I
finally began to come out of my depression, I realized that I felt I
could not worship God on Sunday mornings—not as I was. Although many
individuals and families in the church supported me in critical ways
during this time, I felt wholly excluded when the church gathered for
worship. In the midst of my depression, I did not feel I could bring my
whole self into a context in which only praise seemed acceptable.
Eventually, as I grew well enough to talk these thoughts over with my
pastor and others in the congregation, I began to realize that perhaps
the difficulty was not so much with me but with the way I was leading
worship. If one of the purposes of the gathered worship of the church is
to unify, surely there had to be something wrong with worship services
that created feelings of separation from God and God’s people. This
conviction grew stronger as I talked with others who had been feeling
the same way.
During my depression, the only Scripture passages I had felt able to
read were the psalms—specifically the psalms of lament. It seemed right,
then, to begin to include in the gathered worship of the church the
Scriptures that had made me feel included in God’s story even in the
midst of my depression. I was amazed by the response I received. I began
to hear from others who felt they had to leave a part of themselves at
the door if they were going to be able to worship God. Not only did
these individuals now feel included in the worship of the church, they
also discovered a new capacity for praise.
Israel’s Songbook
The book of Psalms exists today because the people of Israel used
these songs, including the songs of lament, in their worship, and they
sang them often enough that the psalms were remembered and recorded for
future generations.
This songbook of Israel contains more psalms of lament than any other
type of psalm. There are so many psalms of lament that they can be
broken into subcategories: individual lament, corporate lament, psalms
of confession, illness, political complaint, and the like.
Today, however, the psalms of lament are used infrequently by the
church. And when we do use them in worship, all too often we skip over
the complaint, reading or singing only the expression of trust and
praise with which so many of the lament psalms conclude.
It seems strange that the church today would find lament so
difficult, when it was such an integral expression of worship for
Israel, but perhaps we do not use lament because we do not understand
it. We make lament synonymous with grieving, and therefore fail to
understand its significance and its use.
Structure of a Lament
Address. A biblical lament cries out
to God. This
is not an internally focused process of grieving, it is first and
foremost a prayer, a conversation. When we further consider the God to
whom we cry, this aspect of a lament psalm, brief as it may be (“My God,
my God”; Ps. 22) takes on even greater significance. We cry to an
omnipotent God, a good and merciful God, a just God, a God who grants us
access to himself and invites us into personal relationship with him.
Complaint. A lament honestly and specifically names a
situation or circumstance that is painful, wrong, or unjust—in other
words, a circumstance that does not align with God’s character and
therefore does not make sense within God’s kingdom. The emotional tone
of the complaint varies, depending on the type of lament psalm. It may
express sorrow, remorse, weariness, anger, disappointment, or doubt.
Request. A lament expects a response or an answer. It
expects that God will be able to do something about the situation. Most
often the request sounds like a demand: it is the psalmist’s essential
heart-rending cry, “God,
do something!”
Expression of trust. A lament generally includes an explicit
expression of trust, sometimes woven through the complaint and request,
and other times concluding the psalm with an almost jarring note of
praise. Some expressions of trust are such a startling departure from
the rest of the psalm (“I am in the midst of lions; I lie among ravenous
beasts—men whose teeth are spears and arrows, whose tongues are sharp
swords. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; let your glory be over all
the earth,” Ps. 57:4-5) that they seem to sharply divide the psalm into
two parts: lament and praise. But to understand biblical lament
properly, we must acknowledge that the expression of trust, with all its
praise and joy, is
part of a psalm of lament.
Biblical lament, then, is an honest cry to a God who is powerful,
good, and just—a cry that this situation is not in alignment with God’s
person or purposes. It’s a cry that expects an answer from God, and
therefore results in hope, trust, and joy rather than despair.
This understanding of lament makes it much easier for us to apply the
psalms of lament to our own lives and to the life of our congregation.
Indeed, we begin to see that biblical lament is
necessary in a world that does not always operate according to God’s purposes.
The Lord Reigns
In his book
In the House of the Lord, Michael Jinkins suggests
that the central assertion of the psalms is “the Lord reigns.” If we
take this central assertion to be true—and I think it is, both in the
time of Israel and today in our own congregations—then the lament psalms
should hold a very special place in the Psalter. Through lament, we
affirm that God reigns, even in the midst of circumstances that might
suggest otherwise. By crying out in our pain to a powerful, merciful,
and good God, by asking him to intervene, we proclaim the day of
Christ’s coming. We affirm our trust in his ability to transform this
world. We proclaim that even death has been answered, even death is
lamentable.
At its very heart, a lament is an expression of trust in the
character, power, and previous action of God—an expression of trust that
looks beyond our current circumstances to
what will be and
what is—the reality behind the reality.
It is our challenge then, as worship leaders, to take up the cry of
lament for our congregations, for our communities, for a world that is
not aligned with God’s person and purpose. It is our challenge to
continue to cry out to God, to continue to expect an answer, and
therefore continue to live in hope, trusting that our good, powerful,
and just God does indeed reign.