Lament

indeed, one of the key functions of prayer is to make sure that this conversation gets going, at whatever point it is needed at that moment in our lives.

This is more than a general gripe session with friends and a drink in hand.

Instead, it is a laying before the Lord all that we have noted about ourselves and our surrounding circumstances.

The first thing we learn from the Psalmist is that it is possible, it is OK, in fact, that it is desirable for us to make lament.

It may not be pretty, but it is needed and necessary.

Lay it all out there.

Have you thought just how outrageous it is that we even dare to address God?

We are the creatures; God is the creator.

Remember the voice of the Lord thundering to that nervy Job who dared to question God:

“Who is this that counsels wisdom, without knowledge,” he demands of Job, and Job must say “I put my hand upon my mouth.”

But that is not the last word in scripture on the subject.

Our best cue, a fuller understanding, comes from our Lord Jesus who himself instructs us to pray, “Our Father....”

That is why we dare to say whatever needs to be said!

(2) Our laments may not be just to God; some of the complaining may be about God.

And that is OK, too!

The Psalmist says that it wasn't just somebody who broke down the walls of the vineyard, it was God himself.

Why would he build something so wonderful and then have it torn down?

(3) Our perceptions may or may not be right, and lament involves the process of sorting though all of those things, said and unsaid, which we would lay before God.

One of the writing techniques that schools are using these days involves scribbling down all of the key words, thoughts, and phrases that come to mind about one's subject, as quickly as you can, and then beginning to pick through the cluster and use what is most appropriate.

Perhaps we are doing a similar thing in our laments, noting many different things and then beginning to sort.

In June 1520, Pope Leo X made lament in a paper entitled Exsurge Domine: “Arise, O Lord, for a wild boar has arisen in your vineyard...”

He was using a verse which we used earlier today from Psalm 80.

With the phrase “wild boar,” he refers to Martin Luther who was stirring up so much discussion with the 95 Theses and other writings.

The Pope made lament, but in the longer view of things, some of it was misplaced, for the Lord's vineyard needed a make-over, and Luther was one of those calling attention to that need.

Not all of our laments may be appropriate, and need to be sorted and tossed away!

(4) There may be much apparent silence on the part of God.

We are so programmed for instantaneous results that God's silence we regard as unacceptable.

“Nobody has ever hurt as much as I am hurting right now,” we say, and in actually voicing it, we begin to realize just how foolish our comment is.

God is not absent, or deaf, or indifferent, as some think, but proceeding in his own fashion and not according to our petulant desires.

It came to me most forcefully on those mornings before dawn when I stood facing east just below the Sea of Galilee, praying the Psalms in the land where they first came to voice 3,000 and more years ago, and have continued in use there ever since.

God is listening, and responding in his own time and way, and not on our time-schedule.

(5) Lament is not skepticism, or a lack of faith, but springs from the profound trust

--that God is addressable,

--that God is listening,

--that God is in fact continuing his creative and redemptive work among us.

O God of hosts, turn..., look,..., behold ...,

tend this vine;

preserve what your right hand has planted. urges the Psalmist.

He hasn't given up on God at all!

He will list the many problems, but in trust that God will answer, that God is answering.

I remember when I first heard a recording of the work that Mr. Lakey used as the Prelude today.

That recorded organist played it slowly, ponderously, and perhaps even a bit fearfully: “Wake, for Night Is Flying!”

And I started to learn the piece that way.

Some time later I heard a different recording that moved at a much more sprightly tempo.

“What is going on here,” I thought. “Why is this one so much faster?”

Is the performer just showing off how fast he can play? or is there something else being interpreted here?

Read a little further in the text:

The Bridegroom comes, awake!

Your lamps with gladness take!

Sing hosanna!

And then it struck me. Bach was interpreting the second part of lament, not the fearfulness of the first part, but the confident joy that the Lord will answer and care for his people.

Bach is not stuck in fear or despair;

he has written for us a dance of joy above the pedal part that keeps the tempo and the middle voice that proclaims the melody.

What wonderful musical interpretation!

How shall you and I live through this Advent season?

(1) In prayer to God, boldly name the problems we see.

(2) Do lots more listening than talking.

(3) Do it all in trust that God is still in charge

Show us the light of your countenance, and we shall be saved, is the Psalmist's refrain.

In other words, make lament in a Biblical way, in confidence and and with anticipation, with a dancing-song:

...where He will come to dine with you. Amen.

Please note: The preceding sermon is provided as a resource for the thought, prayer, and meditation of the members and friends of St. Mark's. It is the residue of a verbal event, and thus it does not have academic footnotes and other details that would be expected in a written document. The writer gladly acknowledges the prior thought and work of many Christians before him.