"Grieve Before God"

      Last week we began to look at the Bible as a prayer book, as a way we can talk to and listen to God.  We begin with the psalms.  The words of the Psalms emerge out of life lived in relationship with God.  The Psalms cover nearly every type of human emotion, and that also includes anguish, sorrow and regret.

      Dietrich Bonhoeffer was a Lutheran pastor imprisoned and later executed by the Nazis because he refused to acknowledge the lordship of the Fuehrer.  Bonhoeffer was no stranger to grief.  This is what he wrote about the psalms.  "The Psalter gives us ample instruction in how to come before God. . . bearing the frequent suffering which this world brings upon us.  Serious illness and severe loneliness before God and men, threat, persecution, imprisonment---whatever conceivable peril there is on earth are known by the psalms." ¹

      And there are a lot of psalms which express grief, anger, or remorse.  It is impossible to determine an exact number (as it is somewhat subjective), but at least forty of the 150 psalms express grief.  That is a lot.  37%.  This is a strong clue about the importance of expressing our deepest grief and biggest frustrations to God.

      Many people find it very difficult to express anger or frustration to God.  Many people feel this is somehow wrong, that instead of railing at God, they must quietly accept whatever grief they are given.  The psalms powerfully contradict this notion that somehow God cannot tolerate our anger.  The psalms not only give us permission to be angry with God, they give us the words to do so.

      It is no coincidence that the psalms emerged out the context of the suffering of ancient Israel.  They were Israel's response to the painful realities of human life.  The psalms of lament open a window into the soul of the psalmist.  In these psalms we witness a visceral and uncensored reaction to evil and pain.  Everything, every part of life is bared before God.

      Let us now listen to part of Psalm 13 and all of Psalm 6, as God's word speaks to us through the words of the psalmist:

      Just this week a minister colleague recommended the film "Rabbit Hole" to me.  She spoke very highly of it; she said it was a 'masterful piece of work on grieving.'  This got my attention, because she does a lot of grief work in her ministry.  When I got to my office and sat down to work, one of the first things I did was watch the movie trailer.

      In the trailer, "Rabbit Hole" comes on strong.  Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart play a couple whose young son has been killed in an automobile accident.  As you might imagine, it is a terribly sad and poignant film.

      The trailer opens with them attending what is obviously some kind of support group, Couples speak of their loved ones.  One woman tearfully remembers her daughter, "she is with God.  God had to take her; he needed another angel."  Her husband nods and repeats, "He needed another angel."

      To which Kidman's character abruptly blurts out, "Why couldn't he just make one? Another angel?  I mean, he's God after all, why didn't he just make one?  Hmmm?"

      Kidman says exactly what is on her mind.  She doesn't censor it; she doesn't care what it sounds like to the others; she is grieving and she is angry and she is real.  We wince at the painful reality of what she has to say.

      If we are paying attention, this is the kind of emotion we see and experience in the psalms of grief.  The psalmist doesn't mince words either.  The psalmist cries out to God in anguish and frustration.  The psalmist is tired of the weight of grief; she challenges God to answer her cry.

      Let's hear a paraphrase of psalm 13.

      God, how long are you going to leave me hanging out to dry here? How long?

      My heart, my bones, my very being is haunted with your absence.

      You have abandoned me on the desert of my grief.

      Everywhere I look there is only the endless desolation of my tears.

      My imagination runs wild; I am beaten down everywhere I turn. In every direction, north, south, east or west, as far as the eye can see---I see nothing good.

      Have you ever felt this way? There are many types of grief, and many types of loss.  We feel God is not there when we have been dealt a cruel blow.  This is a strong theme in Psalm 13.  Anyone who has ever walked through the valley of grief knows how it feels to be alone in sorrow.

      Each grief, each sorrow, is particular to the grieving one.  In "Rabbit Hole", Kidman's character becomes very angry with her mother for comparing her own grief with Kidman's.  Kidman's brother had died as an adult, and her mother brings it up a lot.  Kidman practically screams at her mother, "Arnold was a 30 year old heroin addict who overdosed, mom; Danny was a four year old boy who chased after his dog and got hit by a car."  After eight months of grief, Kidman's pain is still raw.  Her pain is her very own. She feels even her own mother, having lost a son herself, cannot fully understand it.

      Kidman has chosen not to believe in God; in some ways, she chooses to remain alone with her grief.  She rejects the trite (and heartless) answers people give, "he is with God; it is God's will; you can just have another baby."  And bundled with this, she rejects God.

      So it seems we can accept and swallow our grief, or reject God.  But the psalms offer a third alternative, another way.  And it is the way of wrestling with God.

      The psalmist bares her feelings completely.  There is no pretext, no exit, no way out from this isolation.  There is only God, and God seems all but gone.

      Turning to Psalm 6 we see a different slant on wrestling with God.  In Psalm 6 there is a mixture of grief and a longing for God's forgiveness.²  The longing for forgiveness of sins is seen rarely in the psalms, because most Psalms assume God has already forgiven us.  This bears repeating.  The writers of the psalms believed God offered forgiveness even before humans repented!

      Still, in Psalm 6 the psalmist comes before God with a heavy heart.  The language of physical illness is emphasized, but this could also be expressing despair.

      I am afraid, Lord.  I am afraid what I have done is beyond forgiveness, beyond your mercy.

      My body and soul are troubled by sin.  I am wretched down to my very core.  Lord, I knew better and still I sinned. >

      Save me, God, because that is who you are.  The one who saves.  The one who forgives.  The one who is always there.

      You are life, not death.

      Even though I brought this on myself, Lord, still it hurts.

      I am stuck in this pit of grief.  Is there no escape?

      There are so many enemies out there, but I fear I am my own worst enemy.

      Even though I still see no way out of here,

      I have hope because you have heard me, God.

      I have hope because you know me, God.

      In Psalm 6, God is both the problem the psalmist wrestles with, and the answer to the psalmist's grief.  God answers the cry for forgiveness, not by fixing everything, not by taking away the pain, but by listening and hearing.  The one who prays has hope because he has been heard.  God has heard his weeping.  The person is no longer completely alone in his pain.  Being heard opens the door to hope.

      And so it is for us in Christ.  Christ who prayed the psalms, Christ who stepped into our human frailty, with all its pain and grief and limitation.  Christ who cried out from the cross (quoting the psalms) "My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?"

      In Christ we know God shares our pain, God hears our grief, and God is with us.  In the psalms, we are given words to speak it.