First it was the coronavirus. Wrecking our economy, killing the vulnerable, driving us out of fellowship with one another an into our homes. Then came the restlessness, the yearning to “get back to normal,” which began stirring up debates among friends that spilled over into protests and yelling matches online. Then came the news of a black man, gunned down while on a run by two vigilantes for a crime he didn’t commit. Then came the news of another black man, senselessly killed under the knee of a man who had sworn to serve and protect, which felt to many of us like deja vu.
I, as well as many of you, I’m sure, have heard a lot about what we as Christians ought to “keep in mind” over the last few months. We ought to remember that the Lord is sovereign, and that neither the coronavirus nor the murder of the innocent falls outside of the bounds of His will. We ought to remember that the Lord has many potential purposes for the coronavirus and for these recent events. In light of that, we ought to remember that whatever those purposes, that they are good because He is good, and that “all things work together for good,” for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). We ought to remember that vengeance is the Lord’s. We ought to remember that the Lord grieves the loss of innocent life. We ought to remember that regardless of the trials that come upon us during this season, whether it be sickness, unemployment, depression, loneliness, oppression, or anything else, that the Lord sees the pain of the sufferers, and hears the cries of the mourning, and He will provide for us in our time of need.
We really ought to remember these things, to treasure them in our heart and meditate upon them. But what about those of us who do not solely need to find comfort and encouragement? What about those of us who behold the carnage and the destruction being wrought upon the world by this microscopic murderer and feel something more than fear? What about those of us who watch yet another unarmed, black man be senselessly killed and want to do nothing but scream? What about those of us who, in our most honest moments, respond in our hearts to this season with anger? Not just any anger, but anger fueled by sorrow.
What does the coronavirus and racism reveal about the world? That it is broken. That things are not the way that they ought to be. These things are a product of the “breaking of the world” (to borrow a phrase from Robert Jordan) which we read about in Genesis 3. Just like death, violence, corruption, and famine. And “sorrowful anger” is a perfectly reasonable response to that.
I have felt this anger. It’s born in sorrow, produced in a context where we behold injustice and brokenness and find ourselves overwhelmed by our own powerlessness against it.
It cannot be anger at God Himself, lest we accuse him of injustice on His part. Rather, it is an anger at sin. At the ways that it has sunk it’s teeth into this world that God created and corrupted it.
How dare it. How dare it take that which was supposed to be good, and turn it into a twisted version of what it was intended to be. How dare it drive us into our homes, apart from friends and family. How dare it stir up hate and prejudice in the hearts of men. How dare it kill our family and friends. How dare it run our medical providers ragged.
So what do we do with righteous anger in this season? We lament.
Lament is a uniquely Christian response to injustice and brokenness. I say it is uniquely Christian because it is saturated in a true and lasting hope. It is the expression of a groaning that, if expressed in the context of this hope, should cause us to drop to our knees, look upward, spread our hands, and cry out for God to work to correct all that is wrong. Outside of the context of hope, it produces cynicism and bitterness, causing us not to lament, but to lash out irrationally and cast stones of blame towards anyone we think may be responsible, including God.
What is our hope? That God Himself is as moved to anger and sorrow by the brokenness of the world as we are. More so, even. Not only that, but that He has actually taken action to correct it by coming into the world Himself, being subjected to this brokenness and injustice, and giving up His own life in order to break the power of sin and usher in His Kingdom.
God was even so gracious as to give us language of lament in His word. The Psalms are full of prayers of lament (13, 74, 102, 130 are a few examples). Jesus expresses lament on the cross (Mark 15:34). The Lord even gave us an entire book of lament (The Book of Lamentations)!
The gracious thing about lament, is that it is a place where God meets us where we’re at. We don’t need to posture ourselves or pretend to be okay. We can be honest with Him, and He is faithful to draw near to us and whisper “I understand.” He does not turn away our lament, nor is he disappointed and condemn us for unbelief. He invites us to draw near and be vulnerable in the safest place we can be.
For those of us like me, who feel that sorrowful anger during this season, may we not be as those who do not have any hope. Yes, we ought to remember the glorious truths found in Scripture, but may we also learn to lament. To go before the Lord in our sorrow and anger and cry out. May we be vulnerable before the Lord, and let the Spirit work in us to remind us who He is. May we not hide. May we find in that lament the strength in knowing that our prayers are heard and that the Lord is working to correct all that is wrong. Including viruses and racism.
