Nice to be with you.  If I do anything right in my messages you get a lot of the credit.  I am not sure how it works, but I believe you are part of what draws thoughts and ideas out of me.  Thank you. 

This is a prayer by Thomas Keating, a Trappist monk instrumental in resurrecting the lost Catholic contemplative prayer tradition. In the form of unguided silent worship, Matthew Fox imbedded it from the beginning.

My topic today is lamentation.  In light of the recent fires I believe lamentation is very appropriate.  Before I talk about the scripture verses I have chosen, I would like to give the verses a chance to talk to you.  I did that a few months ago.  I can only give you second hand information.  In silent contemplation there is no middle man, you get information from the source, the light within.

Step 1: I will read the passage a total of three times with 2 minutes of silence after each reading.  As you listen, see if there is one word or phrase that you’re drawn to?

The “He” the author refers to is Yahweh. Lamentations 3:1-18:

I am a man familiar with misery under the rod of his fury.  He has led and guided me into darkness, not light.  Against none but me does he turn his hand, again and again, all day.  He has wasted my flesh and skin away, has broken my bones.   He has walled me in so that I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains; even when I shout for help, he shuts out my prayer.  For me he is a lurking bear, a lion in hiding.  Heading me off, he has torn me apart, leaving me shattered.  He has bent his bow and used me as a target for his arrows.  I have forgotten what happiness is and thought, ‘My lasting hope in Yahweh is lost.’

Step 2: If you haven’t received a word yet, it’s okay. Keep listening as it may come later. 

As I read the text again,  What do you feel?   What are your emotions? What specific situation in your life today relates?

I am a man familiar with misery under the rod of his fury.  He has led and guided me into darkness, not light.  Against none but me does he turn his hand, again and again, all day.  He has wasted my flesh and skin away, has broken my bones.   He has walled me in so that I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains; even when I shout for help, he shuts out my prayer.  For me he is a lurking bear, a lion in hiding.  Heading me off, he has torn me apart, leaving me shattered.  He has bent his bow and used me as a target for his arrows.  I have forgotten what happiness is and thought, ‘My lasting hope in Yahweh is lost.’

Step 3:  To hear God, you need to turn off the critic or cynic in your mind that questions whether you’re really hearing God. When God speaks, it’s usually in thoughts and feelings that come into your mind.

I am a man familiar with misery under the rod of his fury.  He has led and guided me into darkness, not light.  Against none but me does he turn his hand, again and again, all day.  He has wasted my flesh and skin away, has broken my bones.   He has walled me in so that I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains; even when I shout for help, he shuts out my prayer.  For me he is a lurking bear, a lion in hiding.  Heading me off, he has torn me apart, leaving me shattered.  He has bent his bow and used me as a target for his arrows.  I have forgotten what happiness is and thought, ‘My lasting hope in Yahweh is lost.’

Anyone like to share anything?

Many times I am struck by a profound sense of sadness mixed with anger.  Sad that we are trashing and burning up our home.  Angry that God seems absent.  Sad that war is everywhere and is an addiction of our country.  Angered by gun violence, refugee issues, racism, LGQBT persecution and on and on.  Where is God?  Does God even care? 

One third of the Psalms and the entire book of Lamentations are filled with verses of anguish and complaint, but I have never heard a sermon devoted to those topics.  I wonder why?  Richard Rohr says, “We think, perhaps they express sinful anger or negativity, when grief and loss are actually something quite different.  We think they make us appear weak, helpless, and vulnerable, and most of us don’t want to go there.  We think, perhaps, they show a lack of faith, whereas they are probably the summit of faith. So we quickly resort to praise and thanksgiving, even when it is often dishonest.”

Have you ever spoken insincerely to God with praise and thanksgiving, when what you really wanted to do was shout at God?  I had to deal with some difficult mental stuff years ago, and I remember screaming at God, “What kind of God are you?  How can I call you my father when I would do everything in my power to prevent what is happening to me from happening to my children.  You are a monster. Screw you, God. “

It is good to keep in mind that in all the scriptures of lament, a ray of hope can be found.  They never end in despair. The verses from Lamentations continue.

Lamentations: 3:24-33:

“This is what I shall keep in mind and so regain some hope: Surely Yahweh’s mercies are not over, his deeds of faithful love not exhausted; ‘Yahweh is all I have,’ I say to myself.  Yahweh is good to those who trust him, to all who search for him. It is good to wait in silence for Yahweh to save.  It is good for someone to bear the yoke from a young age, to sit in solitude and silence when it weighs heavy, to lay one’s head in the dust — to offer one’s cheek to the striker, to have one’s fill of disgrace.  If he brings grief, he will have pity out of the fullness of his faithful love, for it is not for his own pleasure that he torments and grieves the human race.”

From Richard Rohr: Lament is not despair. It is not whining. It is not a cry into a void. Lament is a cry directed to God. It is the cry of those who see the truth of the world’s deep wounds and the cost of seeking peace. It is the prayer of those who are deeply disturbed by the way things are. We are enjoined to learn to see and feel what the psalmists see and feel and to join our prayer with theirs. The journey of reconciliation is grounded in the practice of lament.  

Easy for you to say, Rohr.  When my head was in the dust, I could not see any hope.  Despair was all I felt for a very long time.  God was not the cause of my suffering.  I wanted God to fix it.  We have to be very careful when we go down the “God as the fixer” road. 

Fred and Tom are good people.  They are kind, generous and humble.  A raging fire is roaring towards both of their houses coming from the north.  Fred’s house is 100 feet south of Tom’s.  Both are praying with all their might that God will save their houses.  The fire rapidly consumes Tom’s house but then the wind reverses direction and Fred’s house is saved. Fred rejoices that God saved his house.  What is Tom supposed to conclude?  He didn’t pray hard enough?  God wanted to punish him and reward Fred?  I think that what happened had nothing to do with God. It just happened.  I am not saying that we should not ask God for things in prayer. I am saying we have to be careful about conclusions.   Actually I don’t know what I am talking about.   It is beyond me.  What I do know for sure is that God rejoices with Fred and weeps with Tom.

In Matthew 27:46 Jesus says:   ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  That is one of the most powerful verses in all of scripture. That through which we live, move and have our being.  That which we name God. That which took on flesh as Jesus to become one with us knows lament.  It gives me comfort to know that Jesus resurrected as Christ plumbed the depths of all human emotions.

Colossians 3: 11: “There is only Christ: he is everything and he is in everything.“ We are a melding of the divine and human.  Divinity is embedded in our DNA at birth.   Jesus came to show us how to deal with sorrow, rejection, disappointment, violence and lamentation.  Jesus did not come to show us how to be spiritual, he came to show us how to be human. 

Thank you.

This message was given to Spokane Friends by John Kinney during Sunday worship service on September 10, 2023.