Lamentations: A Deserted Heart

Creating Space

Today we are moving into a new season of messages that focuses particularly on a topic that we don’t often want to talk about, especially in church. And I know, you’re like… what now? You just talked about money last week. I promise, today’s message is not about money.

I think that one of the things that we don’t like to talk about as Christians is the subject of grief. We acknowledge that it is a thing, especially as we navigate our modern world and get to an age where funerals become more regular occurences on our calendars. But we don’t really want to talk about it. We don’t really want to acknowledge the deep and pervasive pain that accompanies grief.

We tend to want to be the optimistic ones. We are the first to tell ourselves and others that “this too shall pass” or to try to rush the movement through the grieving process towards just finding joy once again. Now I’m not trying to say there isn’t some deep theological truth to the way we try to comfort ourselves and others. The reality is that we do believe that all of the sadness that we experience will some day be resolved. We do believe in an ultimate hope in which all of the brokenness of our world will be removed, and we do believe that death does not have the final word thanks to the resurrection of Jesus… but none of that means that the pain and the suffering that we endure as a part of being human needs to be avoided or stuffed deep down so that we can smile through it.

The truth is that an integral part of being human is grief and the grieving process. Grief is the natural human reaction to the suffering that we face in this world. It’s natural because we know deep down that it isn’t supposed to be like this. Our souls yearn for the good world that God made and they rebel and revolt when exposed to the horrors of evil and suffering. In their own way grief, despair, and lament are good gifts from God because they remind our broken hearts that “this just shouldn’t be.” And if the suffering we endure shouldn’t be, that means that deep down we know that there is a greater hope. The pain reminds us of how deep the chasm is between what God wants and what our current reality is… and it moves us to lean in and reach out to begin to bridge that gap.

When we ignore grief or live in denial of the suffering that we face on a daily basis then we are denying ourselves of an essential aspect of our humanity on this side of eternity. I believe that it is our duty as Christians who live within the beloved community called the church to create a space that allows us to grieve. Creating that space does two things: it offers permission for us as individuals and as a community to express the deep feelings of pain that we experience without fear of “not being good Christians” and it also teaches those around that grief to practice the unspoken art of empathy.

The truth is that grief care is a major part of our call as the church, so for the next few weeks we are going to look at the way that we experience grief, how we are called to exist in and through grief, and what it looks like for us to allow God to heal the wounds on our hearts. We are going to do this by looking at one of the most prevalent types of literature that is found within our Bibles: Lament.

Lamentations

There’s actually a book called Lamentations, hiding in the books of the prophets. It’s a series of 5 poems that are written as a means of reflecting on a particularly catastrophic event that happened in Israel’s history.

Israel was a once mighty nation, richly blessed by God. But they experienced serious downfall and degradation. In the year 586 B.C. they came face to face with their greatest fear — the Empire of Babylon.

In the book of 2 Kings chapters 24 and 25 you will find a detailed record of the destruction of Jerusalem and Judah at the hands of King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon. He systematically destroys everything that Israel’s identity was bound up in. He takes the king captive, destroys Israel’s army, tears down the walls of the city, empties out all of the sacred objects from the temple, and then destroys the temple. Jerusalem, once consider the jewel of God’s eye was left a waste heap. He take’s God’s people captive and hauls them off into exile. Here’s some final words from that horrific section of the Bible:

2 Kings 25:11–12 NRSV

Nebuzaradan the captain of the guard carried into exile the rest of the people who were left in the city and the deserters who had defected to the king of Babylon—all the rest of the population. But the captain of the guard left some of the poorest people of the land to be vinedressers and tillers of the soil.

It’s this remnant of people, left behind to live in and around the destruction of their home, that the bear witness to the heart wrenching poetry found in the book of Lamentations.

This poetry is a deep reflection on the loss and on the grief that the people of Israel faced both as individuals and as a community in the wake of the Babylonian conquest. It bears witness to the guilt and shame that often accompanies grief, as well as the very real feeling of being deserted or damned by God himself. It’s in them that we find the emotional and raw human response to suffering that we often find uncomfortable. It is in them that we find out that it’s actually ok to yell at God.

I’m going to read Lamentations 1, and I just want you to focus in on the language and the tone. Don’t try to rationalize or theologize some of the things that are being said. These are raw human reactions and emotions to what is happening. Also pay attention to the fact that there are 2 voices. One that represents a witness, and one that represents Jerusalem as a whole. The witness, who begins this poem states the facts. Lady Zion, the voice of Jerusalem, states the emotional response. So here we go:

Lamentations 1:1–22 NRSV

How lonely sits the city that once was full of people! How like a widow she has become, she that was great among the nations! She that was a princess among the provinces has become a vassal. She weeps bitterly in the night, with tears on her cheeks; among all her lovers she has no one to comfort her; all her friends have dealt treacherously with her, they have become her enemies. Judah has gone into exile with suffering and hard servitude; she lives now among the nations, and finds no resting place; her pursuers have all overtaken her in the midst of her distress. The roads to Zion mourn, for no one comes to the festivals; all her gates are desolate, her priests groan; her young girls grieve, and her lot is bitter. Her foes have become the masters, her enemies prosper, because the Lord has made her suffer for the multitude of her transgressions; her children have gone away, captives before the foe. From daughter Zion has departed all her majesty. Her princes have become like stags that find no pasture; they fled without strength before the pursuer. Jerusalem remembers, in the days of her affliction and wandering, all the precious things that were hers in days of old. When her people fell into the hand of the foe, and there was no one to help her, the foe looked on mocking over her downfall. Jerusalem sinned grievously, so she has become a mockery; all who honored her despise her, for they have seen her nakedness; she herself groans, and turns her face away. Her uncleanness was in her skirts; she took no thought of her future; her downfall was appalling, with none to comfort her. “O Lord, look at my affliction, for the enemy has triumphed!” Enemies have stretched out their hands over all her precious things; she has even seen the nations invade her sanctuary, those whom you forbade to enter your congregation. All her people groan as they search for bread; they trade their treasures for food to revive their strength. Look, O Lord, and see how worthless I have become. Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the Lord inflicted on the day of his fierce anger. From on high he sent fire; it went deep into my bones; he spread a net for my feet; he turned me back; he has left me stunned, faint all day long. My transgressions were bound into a yoke; by his hand they were fastened together; they weigh on my neck, sapping my strength; the Lord handed me over to those whom I cannot withstand. The Lord has rejected all my warriors in the midst of me; he proclaimed a time against me to crush my young men; the Lord has trodden as in a wine press the virgin daughter Judah. For these things I weep; my eyes flow with tears; for a comforter is far from me, one to revive my courage; my children are desolate, for the enemy has prevailed. Zion stretches out her hands, but there is no one to comfort her; the Lord has commanded against Jacob that his neighbors should become his foes; Jerusalem has become a filthy thing among them. The Lord is in the right, for I have rebelled against his word; but hear, all you peoples, and behold my suffering; my young women and young men have gone into captivity. I called to my lovers but they deceived me; my priests and elders perished in the city while seeking food to revive their strength. See, O Lord, how distressed I am; my stomach churns, my heart is wrung within me, because I have been very rebellious. In the street the sword bereaves; in the house it is like death. They heard how I was groaning, with no one to comfort me. All my enemies heard of my trouble; they are glad that you have done it. Bring on the day you have announced, and let them be as I am. Let all their evil doing come before you; and deal with them as you have dealt with me because of all my transgressions; for my groans are many and my heart is faint.

A real heart warmer right? You’re like dude I come to church to feel good. This is seriously depressing stuff. I know it. But I think it’s good to know that when we feel like everything is falling apart, when it feels like everything and everyone in the world has abandoned us, when it feels like God has cancelled us, that we are not alone. We come from a faith tradition and legacy that recognizes these feelings as valid and as worth recording as sacred scripture.

I think the most comforting thing that comes from this reality is that it gives us permission to not only feel but to voice our frustrations. It gives us the ability to take back the power that grief has stolen from us and begin to make sense of it all.

Tears, Talk, and Time

If you’ve ever studied any psychology, counseling, or maybe seen a therapist you may be familiar with what are called the stages of grief. This theory says that people typically move through grief by experiencing the following 5 emotional stages:

Denial — Anger — Depression — Bargaining — Acceptance

And this is kind of ok. But I have found these stages are not static. It’s not like a straight line path. We jump all over these as we grieve. I can be accepting in the morning, Depressed in the evening, and wake up in the middle of the night angry over a loss that I’ve endured. So while the stages of grief are helpful for naming where we are, they don’t really help us to move through grief.

The way that we move through grief is through a process of Tears, Talk, and Time. We have to feel and express our emotions over a period of time. It’s uncomfortable, but the reality is that if we don’t allow ourselves to cry, to verbally lament the injustice of suffering in our lives, and to let time take its time then we never really go on a journey of healing.

We want to simply go from denial to acceptance. We want to move on and have a healed heart. But you and I both know that never works. Mostly it doesn’t work because the wounds that grief leaves on us are never truly healed. We just grow around them, and if we grow around them right then we come out of grief as persons who are fundamentally changed for the better. We have our hearts stretched and we are able to better understand and care for those around us.

When we don’t deal with our grief, when we just try to push through and ignore the wounding then we end up hardened. We aren’t able to relate to the pain of those around us. Or we just wallow in our sadness and adopt a victim mentality that never recovers. When we ignore our pain or blame it all on those around us then we never move beyond it, and it consumes us.

The beautiful thing about Biblical lament is that it displays a means of moving through grief. And while the poem of Lamentations 1 doesn’t end on a hopeful note, we do see a movement from despair to a person who is trying to make sense of their experience. They are acknowledging their reality as well as taking ownership of the mess they are in. “Everything is broken, but it’s broken because we’ve abandoned God’s ways.”

And hidden deep inside this poem, which is veiled by our english translation, is a beautiful truth. The poems of Lamentations are what we call acrostic poems. What that means is that they are written with each stanza or verse being started with a sequential letter of the Hebrew alphabet. There’s 22 Hebrew letters, and 22 verses to Lamentations 1. Starting with the first letter in verse 1 and ending with the last letter in verse 22, the poem is shaped in a way that displays order. Even though the entirety of the poem expresses the disorder of a City and and People who feel abandoned by God, the very structure of the poem expresses a hope that the God of order is still present and working to reconcile the disordered and disorienting brokenness of Israel’s world.

That hope was realized, when nearly 600 years later God brought all of the chaos back into order through the person and work of Jesus Christ, emmanuel, God with us. The people who had seen and lived with the pain of feeling abandoned by God were given the gift of God walking among them and inviting them to come and dwell in his kingdom forever.

And if that wasn’t enough, Jesus himself legitimized the practice of Lament by praying so fervently in the garden that God the Father would spare him from the cross that his sweat was like tears of blood falling to the ground. He showed us it’s normal to cry our in anguish when he proclaimed from the cross “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me!?”

It’s no secret that this community has endured serious loss over the past 18 months. This series is an invitation for us as a community to heal. It won’t be a 4 week process. It won’t all be ok after this series is over. The memories of those we lost, particularly Kathy Krueger and Tim Willcox will never really leave us. The invitation to lament these losses is open for you.

But even more personally, I’m inviting you this week to write a letter to God. Air your grievances. Lament. Trust me God can take it. And then lean on a community of people you trust to get you through those emotions.

I have a colleague who shared with me and some other pastors that in a particularly dark period of time in their life, they reached out to members of their covenant group on a Sunday morning before having to go preach in order to just let out how they were feeling. They recounted that in that moment, they just felt so God Damned alone. Then they apologized for using that language. Another pastor present said “don’t apologize, in that moment you felt damned by God. You felt alone. So much of the Bible is about people who felt just like you did.

That’s my word for you. If you feel alone, abandoned, damned by God — you’re in the right place. Lament that, cry about it, talk about it, and let the community hold you for the time that it takes for you to move through your grief. That’s what we are here for. This is a safe space to lament and a safe space to grieve. God himself grieved, this is me giving you permission to do the same.