Psalms of lament

​The Psalms hold a special place in my heart, as they do for many people. The Psalms are a collection of 150 poems and songs of prayer that served as the ancient hymnal for the Israelite people. These songs gave voice to the full breadth of human emotion, from celebratory joy to the depths of despair; from the songs of Thanksgiving to raging tirades against God; from praise hymns to laments. Anything you may be feeling or experiencing can be found penned in this special book tucked into the Hebrew Scriptures. Jesus was also a lover of the psalms and quoted them throughout His ministry, perhaps most notably in the last moments of His life when he quoted Psalm 22, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” 

As I perused the Psalms this week for a class I am taking, I couldn’t help but notice that many of the Psalms were pretty unfamiliar to me. Apparently, there are a whole host of Psalms that never made it into our lectionary, the document that provides guidance for the scriptures we read during Sunday worship. Religious commentators have noted that some of the Psalms may be a bit difficult to stomach during a family-friendly church service (Check out the end of Psalm 137 if you need an example). Others argue for their inclusion as an important aspect of our public worship. I tend to lean a bit more towards the latter, perhaps because my work as a therapist taught me the importance of providing space for people to share their innermost experiences, even when—and sometimes especially when—they are gut-wrenching and hard to hear. 

In light of everything going on in our world and our nation, I decided to use Psalm 13 for our Wednesday Unplugged Scripture this week. This short, three stanza Psalm packs a punch as David cries out to God in fear and despair while being pursued by Saul. Like all Psalms, Psalm 13 meant something particular to its author. David cried out to God, “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?” David was forcibly exiled to avoid the murderous Saul when he wrote this Psalm. He felt abandoned by God and wondered how long Saul would have the upper hand. 

This is most likely not what we are going through when we turn to this Psalm for words and comfort. Perhaps, instead, you read this Psalm when a friend betrays you. Perhaps you read this Psalm when you are fighting against an addiction that you just cannot shake. Perhaps you read this Psalm from a hospital bed when you’ve just lost a baby or you’re battling cancer. Perhaps you read this Psalm when you’re in an abusive relationship that is dangerous to leave. Perhaps you read this Psalm when you listen to the News and you feel hopeless. 

These Psalms were canonized for a reason, and they are a blessing to us in so many situations. They provide us words when we have none and permission to feel and express the big feelings to a world that often tells us we should not. Our God is big enough to handle these big feelings. Our God is big enough to take it when we are angry with God and express that anger in our prayers. God created us with the capacity to feel anger, and this is part of our image-bearing of God, who also expresses anger. Being in authentic relationship means allowing each other to share deeply, even when the sharing is painful and uncomfortable, even when sharing means expressing anger or grief towards each other. God wants that from us, and the Psalms are a gift to help us learn to do that better. 
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Psalm 13 ends on a hopeful note, as many of the laments do. This ending is also a lesson in authentic relationship. We can hold in tension anger and hope, and in fully experiencing the emotions we often try to hide, we process them better so we can get to that full expression of hope and faith. In the last stanza of Psalm 13, David reaffirms his relationship to his God. “But I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.” May we also allow ourselves this depth and breadth of relationship with the Divine.