Resetting Our Lament

Hitting the Reset Button  •  Sermon  •  Submitted
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Opening Prayer

Let’s open with prayer. If you have a prayer concern, just offer it up out loud in this space. It can be a situation, a need, a family member or friend. When I sense we are finished I will close out our prayer.
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Remind about candles in back as a form of prayer...
Prayer of confession...
Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!
If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities, Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with you, so that you may be revered.
I wait for the Lord, my soul waits, and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord more than those who watch for the morning, more than those who watch for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the Lord! For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.
It is he who will redeem Israel from all its iniquities. Amen.

Introduction

We are continuing our series for Lent Hitting the Reset Button. What we are focusing on is that Lent provides us a time and space to reset some things in our lives that may be out of step with God. As we journey with Jesus toward the Cross, we will look at various aspects of our faith that can get out of order, and how the Gospel brings us back into alignment.
This morning the message is called Resetting Our Lament. Already this sounds depressing! But hold on, because by the end I will hopefully convince you that lament is not only necessary, but that it is a great gift from God. Did you know that there are actually more songs of lament in Scripture than songs of praise? In fact, we have an entire book - Lamentations - devoted to lament. Out of the goodness of God’s heart, he has given us language to not only express our grief, but in the process, to give the grief over to him. And the good news is that, as we do this, we make ourselves ready to receive the joy on the other side of suffering. We lament in the hope that we have a Savior who is coming for us and will in the end heal all things.

What is lament?

What is lament, and what does it have to do with our passage. Both of our readings this morning included lament. Jesus, after he responds to the Pharisees, cries out on behalf of stubborn Israel: Luke 13:34 “Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” Paul, as he considers the fate of those who have made themselves enemies of God say that he does so “in tears”.
This is what biblical lament is. To cry out, to mourn, to wail. It is to mourn loss, and sometimes that loss isn’t even your own. At times God draws us in to lament and co-suffer with him over an issue. We have much to lament these days:
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The devastation that was COVID
Racism that continues to rear its ugly head, such as in Lavaca this past week as an African American student was bullied on a bus, being called Rosa Parks and the “n” word.
Those who have rejected God. Those whose minds are set on this world.
And we all have our own personal laments - broken relationships, problems with our kids or spouses, health issues, and so on.
Most of us don’t like lament. No one wants to mourn or feel bad. As Americans, we often think happiness is our birthright. And so we tend to insulate ourselves from pain and suffering as much as possible. But when we won’t enter into lament over the suffering of the world, it slowly seers our conscious and makes us unable to feel anything. The truth is that We need a revival of tears, for only then we will be ready for a revival of joy.

Why lament?

So what happens when we allow ourselves to enter into the gift of lament?
Lament gives us insight into God’s heart.
Jesus’ heart broke for Jerusalem because his Father’s heart was broken for Jerusalem. God has desired to gather them under his protect wings, but in their sinful obstinance they have rejected him. Paul, likewise, grieves over those who are lost, who have chosen the world to their own destruction, because God’s heart grieves over the lost.
When we lament, we enter into a new level of intimacy with God where he shares with you something of what he himself is experiencing. And so we learn to pray with Bob Pierce, the founder of World Vision, “Let my heart be broken by the things that break the heart of God”.
Again, if we won’t allow ourselves to feel grief, to lament, soon we will lose the ability to feel anything.
Lament shifts our pain onto God.
As you look at the lament in our passages today, or if you look at some of the psalms of lament, what you will discover is a way of releasing us from what we are unable to carry long-term. It releases us from the things we can’t fix and that are out of our control. Perhaps the most beautiful thing about lament is that it means we don’t have to just grin and bear it. In lament, we can talk honestly with God, even impolitely at times, as we unburden ourselves with our feelings of pain, anger, and helplessness.
1 Peter 5:7 say to “Cast all your anxiety on him, because he cares for you.” To cast literally means to put something on someone else with great energy, as if to throw it on forcefully. This is what God invites us to do in lament. Lament is a gift from God as a way to survive our suffering.
Lament creates a pathway between the already and the not yet.
When we make our lament to God, we are simultaneously acknowledging that this is not how things are suppose to be. And in making our lament, we are exercising our faith in the One who can fix what is broken.
Lament embodies the hope of justice and healing. When we offer lament, we don’t lament into a void. We lament to the one who loves us and has already come to redeem us, beginning with the Cross. In his lament, Paul reminds us of something equally critical: Phil 3:20 “But our citizenship is in heaven, and it is from there that we are expecting a Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.” We have a Savior who is still coming to save, deliver, and heal. Lament brings for hope, because Jesus is coming for you.
Lament leads to healing.
I said earlier that if you won’t allow yourself to lament, to feel pain, you can seer your conscious to feel anything at all. On the flip side of this, if you can’t feel, you can’t heal. Think of it this way: when a surgeon opens an infected wound, the point isn’t to continually release infection, but to remove the infection so that the wound can heal.
This happens for us as we lament. We shouldn’t live in a continue state of mourning. Jesus didn’t just lament, Jesus was also joyful. Paul didn’t only have tears; in this same letter he reminds his readers to rejoice numerous times. Lament releases the toxins that threaten to overwhelm our soul, so that we can enter into the joy of God again.
I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve lamented to God about calling me to pastor. I have poured our grief, blame, anger - you name it - in the course of 14 years of ministry. It’s not that I don’t love the job. But little has turned out like I thought it would. When I began this job, in my mind people would always be my friend. Everyone would be loyal, and no one would ever stab me in the back. The church would grow and grow and be vibrant, and I have have a large staff of associate pastors. We would have a shiny new building with lots of room for all the kids and youth we minister to, and really nice offices. And I would never know any personal pain of children who question their faith, and even leave it, because hey, God owes me. I’ve had many reasons to lament over the years, but I can honestly say that I never feel closer to the Lord when I just let all the toxins out and give it to him. It doesn’t change the circumstances, but it removes the poison and allows me to experience again his love and healing. If you won’t feel, you can’t heal.

A louder song than grief

Lament leads us to the gospel. Let me close by borrowing from author Aubrey Sampson’s book The Louder Song, Listening for Hope in the Midst of Lament.
For those of us who follow Jesus, we live with down payments on the “already” of God’s Kingdom on earth. We see glimpses of God’s healing power, his love, and his victory over evil. But we also live in the “not yet” of a broken, sinful world. It is in between the Already and the Not Yet where we wait expectantly for the return of Jesus, who will one day make all things right, whole, and complete. Thankfully, we experience glimpses of gospel hope every time we see bits and pieces of God’s reign and presence and power at work. But that final redemption—God’s Kingdom arriving in full, where all brokenness is redeemed, all evil thwarted, all suffering ended—is our ultimate hope.
When the days are hard—when grief weighs as much as gravity, when we can’t live any minute longer with the pain, when we’re angrier or more disillusioned than we ever thought possible, when we can’t find the right words for our difficult emotions, when our gnawing questions become too much to handle—God’s Spirit draws us back, time and time again, to lament, and ultimately into his presence.
And this is how, even in our darkest, most grievous laments, there’s hope—because we don’t lament to a void. We lament to the God who wants our laments. As we lament, we join in the chorus of those who have gone before us—those who have wrestled with suffering’s reality and came out, not unscathed, but still proclaiming God’s goodness.
Lament leads us back to a place of hope—not because lamenting does anything magical, but because God sings a louder song than suffering ever could, a song of resurrection, renewal, restoration, and re-creation.
We don’t have to fear expressing the whole gamut of emotions to God, because that is part of a committed relationship with him. Even if we turn our prayers against him, even if we angrily blame him, even if we run and scream wildly, God remains near, patiently inviting us deeper into his presence. When Christians lament, we do so to a God who lets us. Our cries—even our cries of doubt and despair—fall on his loving, listening ears.
What’s remarkable about Christianity is that we have a King who is also a steadfast, loving Husband and Friend. He not only permits lament; he gives us the language of lament. We have a God who desires and deserves our wholehearted praise. But he is also a God who wants an authentic, meaningful, intimate love relationship with us. We have a groom who gives his bride a voice.
Even if our lament is impolite, raw, or bitter, even if we express sorrow or verbalize anger, even if we make demands, as we lament, we actually preach to the world (and to ourselves) that it is possible to have a fearless, deeply intimate relationship with God. A God who not only is worthy of our thanksgiving and our joyful worship but also wants every part of us—not just our “pretty” selves, but our sharp edges, our sin struggles, our suffering, and our sadness.
If we never acknowledge our pain to God, we will never truly know what it means to praise him on the other side of suffering. It is in our honest crying out to God about our pain that our worship of God grows more authentic. It is in this kind of relationship, this kind of honesty with God that our walks with him become real. Lament is part of the rhythm of a deepening relationship with him.
And I would just add, We lament in the hope that we have a Savior who is coming for us and will in the end heal all things. Amen.
Ministry time...

Communion

The power of the Communion table is that we can come with our joys, but also with our laments. Communion should be joyful, because we celebrate the victory of Christ over sin and death. Bu Communion can also hold the weight of our lament as we grieve that which is not right in our lives and in our world. Whether you come with joy or grief, Jesus meets you here with the grace you need for the future.
The Lord’s Prayer
Words of Institution
Invitation
This is the table, not of the church, but of the Lord,
It is made ready for those who love God and for those who want to love Him more.
So come, you who have much faith and you who have little;
You who have been here often and you who have not been here long;
You who have tried to follow and you who have failed.  
Come, because it is the Lord who invites you.
It is His will that those who want Him should meet Him here.
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