The Angry Psalms

 2020 doesn't hold a candle to 2012 for me. Well...yet...we'll see what happens with this meteor thing, or whether the murder hornets settle in my yard. It's a long story about a lot of things and there's been other blog posts. But, joy wasn't a theme for me in 2012. I'm pretty sure I burned that calendar, or at least cut it up in tiny little pieces at midnight on New Year's Eve.

The week after Thanksgiving 2012 I began removing the maternity clothes I'd just put into my closet. I quit leaving the house for awhile or talking to people on the phone. And, for a few days, I quit reading my Bible. I'd spent so many years believing that nothing happens that God had not ordained, and that He would never give us more than we could handle. If that was all true, I didn't want to talk to him. I knew that the Bible was where I should find comfort, but I wasn't sure that I really wanted to be comforted. Because I was a mom who's baby had died before I could meet her and accepting comfort made me feel like a traitor. 

And yet, my inability to pull myself out of this pit simultaneously made me feel like a wretched Christian. Christians have hope, exude joy, and look for the silver lining always, right? 

I stared at my Bible that November morning as it sat on my kitchen table. Almost grudgingly, I dutifully picked it up, and flipped it open mindlessly. My eyes fell on the words, written in Psalms 34:18, "If your heart is broken, you'll find God right there; if you're kicked in the gut, he'll help you catch your breath."

Kicked in the gut?! That was me! But, could I really say that? Right at God? It's believed David wrote this. The same David who history has called a man after God's own heart. I found so many more words of raw emotion like this-Psalm 13, Psalm 40 or Psalm 142. If David could be this real with God, maybe I could too. I found such a strange comfort during that time in what I've called "The Angry Psalms."

But I have often wondered, why does it feel so wrong to be sad? Why do hot stinging tears feel sinful? Why do those we love quickly try to hustle us through our grief? I'm asking for myself because I do the same. I'm learning that some of this is cultural. In the book I've been reading, Prophetic Lament by Dr. Soong-Chan Rah, I'm learning that historically American Christian culture emphasizes themes of "triumphalism and exceptionalism"(72). We really struggle with the idea of sorrow, suffering, and loose ends. We prefer stories about problems conquered, full of success and happy endings. 

Prophetic Lament wasn't a book about me or my personal story, but the moment I read those words about "triumphalism" and what that means I returned to a moment when a well-meaning comforter looked at me with my aching eyes and empty arms and said, "You'll have another..." I felt faithless as I refused to accept that. But I wasn't wrong. It's been eight years. I have no rainbow baby. But God loves me just as much as those moms who do. This is a hard concept for American Christianity to grasp. 

I'm learning a lot right now about the genre of lament and it's importance to our faith. Rah points out that this type of writing serves "a multitude of functions"(44). He specifically lists five of these purposes as (1) recounting "historical suffering." It tells the story. (2) "It is a human response to anguish and adversity." (3) It can be a form of complaint. Yes, complaint. (4) Lament "is an act of protest as the lamenter is allowed to express indignation and even outrage about the experience of suffering. The lamenter talks back to God and ultimately petitions him for help in the midst of pain." (5) It is a way in which we call out to God for help, and "in that outcry there is the hope and even the manifestation of praise." 

The Psalms strike a beautiful balance between the genres of praise and the genre of lament. Without the recognition that comes with lament, there is no substance to the praise. As I watch the news, read the posts on Facebook and listen, learn, and relearn, I can see, as Dr. Rah shows, how many of the issues we're facing are linked to our inability to lament properly. Dr. Rah's book especially focuses on the impact this emotional handicap has had on our ability to move forward in equality and racial reconciliation. I believe it can explain many of the problems we're having. We don't want to hear the stories that don't end well, or listen to those who are not successful by the world's standards. It isn't healthy to stifle or rush through unpleasant emotions. We need to trust God's love and grace with those unpleasant emotions too. And we have to be willing to put aside our success narratives in order to run into the arms of our Heavenly Father and admit that we are not okay. 

Rah, Soong-Chan. Prophetic Lament: a Call for Justice in Troubled Times. IVP Books, an Imprint of InterVarsity Press, 2015.