Psalms of Lament

Do you, and your church, follow the bible? This is a loaded question and one for which there is both one right answer (“yes”) and many ways to answer (“yes, in our context following the bible looks like…”). I’ll leave such debates to those who are far wiser than myself. But today, I will bring up one part of the bible that many churches in our North American context often ignore.

---------------The Psalms of Lament---------------

Did you know that approximately 70 percent of the Psalms are laments? But that approximately 0 percent of the top 150 CCLI songs (songs sung most in churches) are laments.

In a conversation with a person at my church, I was asked “But what if I’m not sad? Why would I lament if I’m not sad about anything?” This person’s point of view was that a Sunday service should be joyful and uplifting to “get you through the week.” I don’t think this person would be alone in this feeling. But to me, it feels problematic. This conversation highlighted the lack of understanding of lament and the need to bring it to the foreground.

Christian culture has become one that places a high value on not complaining.

For Christians, continued expressions of grief, particularly after a death, are considered a sign of weak faith: “Isn’t the person in a better place?” all too quickly becomes the comment a sufferer hears. The notion that an individual cannot bear their grief is rejected with: “God doesn’t give us more than we can handle.” While we may not intend to be cruel with these kinds of remarks, somewhere along the way a persons virtue and strength of faith became tied, not to their actual reliance on God, but to their ability to endure their suffering in silence and to reframe it as quickly as possible into an inspiring message of grace that can be shared with others. It is an expectation that baffles me.

By losing the language and structure of lament we have lost some of our ability to be authentic with God and that has, in turn, made us less likely to be in tune with one another. The result is a community that, on the whole, does not know God or each other as deeply as we should.

Why Is Practicing Lament Important?

Thinking long and hard about this question there are a few reasons that this practice of lament is important:

1) When we lament when we are not lamenting, we can weep with those who are weeping (Rom 12:15). At any given time there are likely people who are in a season of suffering. When we lament together we remind them they are not alone.

2) Christians gather on Sunday to rehearse the things we hope for and sing about the things we have confidence in. If we similarly lamented, when those dark periods came we would be spiritually nimble and would know what songs to sing and what prayers to pray, instead of reactively scrambling for words and actions.

3) Finally, we may need to lament more than we realize since laments force us to wonder whether we are making light of our own sin (do we really want to turn away from that habit, behaviour or decision?) or making light of the suffering in our own congregation and community.

Practicing lament makes space for someone to give voice to their anguish, anger and despair, and for those not in a season of suffering it offers the ability to pray the words of those who came before on behalf of others. Rather than looking for the sufferer to do so quickly and quietly, the biblical tradition of Lament invites worshippers to give voice to their anguish, even when it seems unchristian, and it calls the rest of the Church to listen without judgement or impatience. Lament is at its core, hopeful. As an individual laments, they are also praying. Showing that there is nothing within our experience that we cannot offer to God. Psalms of Lament help contemporary worshippers to stand in biblical tradition and we would do well to recover this practice.

Today, I’ll offer you some words of lament. And if you are suffering, know that I am praying them for you. If you aren’t suffering, then know that I am praying that when you do, you remember that you are not alone.

Psalm 102: 1-11

Hear my prayer, Lord;

let my cry for help come to you.

Do not hide your face from me

when I am in distress.

Turn your ear to me;

when I call, answer me quickly.

For my days vanish like smoke;

my bones burn like glowing embers.

My heart is blighted and withered like grass;

I forget to eat my food.

In my distress I groan aloud

and am reduced to skin and bones.

I am like a desert owl,

like an owl among the ruins.

I lie awake; I have become

like a bird alone on a roof.

All-day long my enemies taunt me;

those who rail against me use my name as a curse.

For I eat ashes as my food

and mingle my drink with tears

because of your great wrath,

for you have taken me up and thrown me aside.

My days are like the evening shadow;

I wither away like grass.

I hope that this week you consider the emotional depth of the Psalms as well as their heights and that maybe you practice lament so that when trials of the world come you will be (a little more) prepared.

Love ya,

p.s. do you use the Psalms in your personal time with God? Do you find poetry hard to understand? Let me know what you think of the psalms by email (meghanlamatthews@gmail.com) or on Instagram (@itsmeghanmatthews)

p.p.s. if you'd like some resources on lament and the church/Christianity, let me know- I've got a great book list.