Last week I wrote about the little deaths we all endure, and how important it is that we face them head on, trusting in the resurrection which is sure to come. The problem with this is that we sometimes take faith to mean that we shouldn’t grieve, express doubts or acknowledge our pain. We seem to think that the truly faithful rise above these dark emotions and go through suffering with a blissful smile. I’m not sure where we got this picture from, but it wasn’t from the Scriptures.
In the Bible we discover a lot of grief and suffering, and often it is the most faithful, devoted people - the prophets and apostles - who face the worst of life. We might expect them to handle this calmly and gracefully, but instead what we find is a liberating honesty. These men and women of faith had no problem expressing their raw anger at God, their complaints and questions, their doubts and fears.
Take Jeremiah as an example. When faced with persecution for his message, he tries to keep silent, but finds that he can’t do it - which means that all he can expect is more persecution. He feels angry that he wasn’t told that it would be like this, and so he complains to God in Jeremiah 20:7-9, essentially calling God a liar! But God doesn’t strike him with lightning. Rather, Jeremiah’s faith remains strong, and he goes on to have one of the longest and most difficult ministries of any prophet.
Lament is a healing practice. Here the realities of our lives and the realities of our faith come together, and this always leads to a renewed faith. There are four basic parts to any true lament. First, a complaint is laid against God, expressing the details of the suffering being experienced. Second, God’s promises and previous gracious acts are remembered and offered to God as both the basis for the complaint (because God doesn’t appear to be doing what God promised) and the basis for hope that God will intervene. Third, a request is spoken for God to act on behalf of the suffering one and bring healing, liberation and comfort. Finally, a commitment is made to continue to trust, to hope and to praise God, no matter what the outcome may be.
It is unfortunate that worship has all too often been seen as nothing other than celebration. Joy and inspiration are emphasised and any signs of grief, doubt, pain or fear are to be hidden or left outside. The result of this is that worshippers are forced into a double-life in which their real feelings and experiences are either ignored or concealed. We get good at pretending that we are “blessed” on Sundays, and we cling to our faith with white-knuckles, hoping our grief won’t overwhelm and betray us - which it inevitably does.
Perhaps both we and our churches would be healthier if we just learned to lament more - to express our grief, to make our complaints against God, and to commit to faith even in the dark times. We all face both the little deaths and the big ones, and to try and deal with grief without the gift of lament is to rob ourselves of both healing and comfort. But, if we trust God enough to be honest about our pain, we will find the comfort we seek, and the light of hope will continue to shine in our hearts.
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John van de Laar is a Methodist minister, liturgical consultant and the author of the book Food for the Road – Life Lesson from the Lord’s Table. He holds a Master’s Degree in theology from UNISA, and is the founder of Sacredise.com, an international worship training and resourcing ministry. John is married to Debbie, and they have two sons.
Visit www.sacredise.com for more articles by John, as well as resources for personal and public worship – music, prayers, liturgies, images and drama scripts.