Psalms of Lament: When We Are Up to our Necks
Lament: When We Are Up to Our Necks
Psalms: A Song for Every Season
Psalms 13 and 69:1-3
Rev. Cynthia Cochran-Carney, First Presbyterian Church, San Rafael, CA
PDF OF SERMON AVAILABLE BELOW
How long, O God? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?
Consider and answer me, O Lord my God! Give light to my eyes,
or I will sleep the sleep of death,
and my enemy will say, "I have prevailed"; my foes will rejoice because I am shaken.
But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.
I will sing you O God because you have dealt bountifully with me.
Psalm 13
Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in deep mire, where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters, and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying; my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God. Psalm 69:1-3
As we continue our sermon series on the Book of Psalms, I think it is helpful to look at Walter Bruggeman’s three categories of the 150 Psalms.
Psalms of Orientation – Praise God, gratitude, naming all the ways God has provided, content
Psalms Disorientation – Lament, complaints, life is full of despair and threats, suffering, questioning, anger, uncertainty about the future
A glimmer of hope, of trust. More that half of the Psalms are in this category
Psalms of Reorientation – new life, hope, new way of seeing and orienting life Metanoia – reorient, see differently, act differently
Last week we looked a Psalms of Praise, of what it means to feel at home and that God dwells in us.
Today we’ll look at songs of Disorientation and specifically lament. Lament is not a word we use often enough. It means to feel or express sorrow or regret, to mourn.
The act of lament is an ancient Christian practice that we inherited from Judaism. But I think the 20th century American church forgot about Lament, in favor of the power of positive thinking. Today we’re going to remember it.
As Rev. Marci Glass suggests in her sermon - Lament is not worry or anxiety. It is a public claiming that things are not as you wish they were and a cry out to God that you’ve noticed and you’re not happy about it.
This is the power of lament. To meet us where we are, in whatever depth of grief, fear, shame, or loss, and give us words to sing as we cry to God for answers.
Psalm 13 -How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
It is quite a contrast, in most ways, to the one we heard last week, that was full of turning toward God in praise and joy. Here, we turn toward God in lament, despair, and fear.
As I said last week, the psalms are a collection of poems and liturgical songs. Which means that while individually, they may focus primarily on one emotion—as a collection, they speak to our experiences in the world, encompassing the joy and the sadness, the hope and the despair.
And there is a lot of despair in this one. Worry that enemies will prevail. Anger about God’s silence, which feels like it will go on forever.
We see a lot of despair in the world too.
I want to offer a few ways that the psalmist handles despair differently than we often see in the world around us though.
First, this is addressed to “the lead player,” a David psalm, which reminds us that it is intended to be sung in the act of corporate worship, where every voice joins in to sing what appears to be a singular experience of despair.
I understand our tendency to take our despair and go off alone, surrounded by our pain, sure that nobody else could understand, worried that nobody would care. We might feel the powerful truth of “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” and assume that we are alone in that feeling of isolation.
Imagine the power of hearing other voices sing your lament? The voices of your church family giving voice to your pain, making it their own, if only for a time, so that you don’t have to carry it alone? We can share grief as well as joys.
Another consequence of singing your lament publicly is that you are then able to be cared for by others. If you sing your lament only by yourself, off in a cave somewhere, nobody else will know.
When people hear your lament, you open yourself up to a response. This is central to the ministry of the Deacons. This is a ministry of compassion, empathy, being with people in their pain, grief, healing, transitions, uncertainty.
It can be hard to receive help. In my experience, I am much more comfortable offering to help someone else. And yet, there is an invitation to be open to help and support.
Psalm 13 and other Psalms of Lament follow a similar structure.
The Complaint (Verses 1-2): Features the famous cry, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?" The psalmist pours out feelings of abandonment and anguish.
The Petition (Verses 3-4): A direct plea to God for help, asking God to "Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; lighten my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death."
The Statement of Trust (Verses 5-6): Despite the circumstances, the psalmist transitions to an expression of faith, declaring, "But I have trusted in your steadfast love.”
In the other Psalm of lament 69 I read, the psalmist felt like he was drowning. The metaphor is – the water is up to my neck.
Save me, O God. Save me, O God, for the water has come up to my neck.
This psalm serves as a reminder that sometimes it’s hard to voice praise because the water is up to our necks. Quite a few psalms of floods and deep waters.
When we feel up to our necks, Deacons are often the ones who offer a life preserver, a listening ear, a meal, a ride, a card, a resource for caregiving, respite care, words of prayer and encouragement.
Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck.
We don’t believe a faithful life means you’ll avoid the storms. We believe that in a grounded life, we seek God, and trust God’s presence in all the moments— in the times of good, calm water, and in the times when the water is up to our neck.
At the end of Psalm 69, beyond the verses we heard this morning, the psalmist returns to praise:
I will praise the name of God with a song;
I will magnify God with thanksgiving…
Let heaven and earth praise God, the seas and everything that moves in them.
The Psalms help us express our honest lament. We don’t need to skip over it. We can hold both the lament and the hope.
If we are honestly praying our laments, what does that look like?
The psalmist begins Psalm 13 with versions of the question “how long”.
How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?
The psalmist doesn’t say “God is going to hide from me forever and I will bear this sorrow forever.” The psalmist has faith there will be an answer, presence, guidance.
I’ve been speaking about despair, the kind we feel about particular situations in our lives. This psalm is also a powerful song to sing about collective despair—about the things going wrong in our community, our nation.
As we watch the atrocities happening in Gaza, and as we remember the Israeli hostages and the suffering of many in Israel who long for peace in the midst of this long running war, we cry out in lament.
How long, O Lord?
When we read stories about gun violence in the US and our congress continues to refuse to act to address the violence. We cry out in lament.
How long, O Lord?
The government of Vladimir Putin continues its war against the people of Ukraine. The war in Iran is destabilizing the Middle East and there is the loss of so many innocent lives. We cry out in lament.
How long, O Lord?
When we read that is a global food crisis. Since the creation of UN World Food Program 1963, never has hunger reached such devastating highs. And more cuts this week to WIC programs for children, especially access to fresh fruits and vegetables, we lament.
How long, O Lord?
It is right for us to lift up those cries of lament and grief to the news of the world. We don’t have to agree about the particulars of a situation to lament together in sadness about the violence and loss in our world. Our laments are on our hearts and minds. We do what we can.
Our response to the pain and hurt of the world, is to hold both the sadness of the world and the hope of God’s goodness at the same time. It’s a way of acknowledging the pain and difficulties in the world, without letting go of hope. It is also the scaffolding from which we resist the evil of this age. Because we lament and because we hope, we work for justice, peace, and mercy.
If you need to cry your lament alone for a time, that’s fine. But lament is more powerful when all of the voices join together. This is why we gather. To voice the pain and injustice in the world with people who can support and care for us, and with people with whom we can resist evil and work to address the pain and injustice in the world. To cry out for God to answer, to cry out together and claim a blessing.
I am so grateful we do not have to sing our laments and sadness alone. We come to the table together to be fed and to go out again to know we are not alone. Thank you for being a community that gives voice to our laments and hopes together. Amen.
Resources
Walter Brueggemann, Spirituality of the Psalms. Fortress Press, 2002.
Rev. Marci Glass, “Up To My Neck,” June 23, 2019 https://marciglass.com/2019/06/23/up-to-my-neck/
“How Long, O Lord?” June 10, 2024 https://marciglass.com/2024/06/10/how-long-o-lord/