Lament

“How lonely was the city that was full of people!” – Lamentations 1:1

Living as close to the church building as we do, we often pass by it during our walks, standing empty. I know there are good things happening right now as we connect in other ways. I firmly believe in God’s sovereignty. But there is still something in me that, staring at that empty building, feels the wrongness and sadness of it all. 

The opening words of Lamentations say it all. Yes, how lonely is the place that was full of people. Right here, in the Bible, sit five chapters of nothing but lament. Lament is when we bring our sorrow to God. Lament is when we pray our pain. Lament is a form of protest. It is a way to process emotion. It is a place to voice confusion. It gives dignity to suffering. We are not to suffer in silence. It is okay to acknowledge our emotions.

And yet, the book of Lamentations is not mere emotional outburst. Most of it is an acrostic poem, each verse or verses beginning with the next letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Perhaps this is a spelling out of the full expression of the author’s sorrow, going from A to Z. Perhaps it is to provide an ordered, linear structure that contrasts with the disordered chaos of pain and grief. Despite the structure, emotion is there. The author moves rapidly between topics, as if in active turmoil. The last chapter is not acrostic at all.

We all need to read Lamentations because we all need to learn to lament. We too easily either deny and suppress our emotions, or spiral with them into bitterness, complaints, and anger against God. Lament is something different. It is a language we need to learn, a space we need to be familiar with, personally and corporately. If we’re in grief, we need examples of how to be heartfelt and honest with God about it. If we’re not, we need to learn how to see and be present in the suffering of others. Lamentations 1:12 says, “Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow.” Look, and listen, and see.