This decade, and especially the last 2 ½ years, have given
me ample opportunity to grow well-acquainted with grief. Grieving, however, is
not something I seem to be mastering with practice. Granted, I have some idea
now what to expect: the initial physical as well as emotional incapacitation,
the unexpected and inevitably inconvenient waves of fresh tears, the gradual
lessening of the intensity of those first days, the sadness of firsts and
anniversaries.
Deep down, I know that lament is the wise, healthy, uniquely
Christian path through grief. I know the components and biblical basis for
lament, the genre of at least one-third of the Psalms; I’ve even shared it with others at retreats and on my blog. Some of us
neglect lament because of simple ignorance; others, like me, neglect it because
it is hard work. After the initial all-consuming grief of the first month or
two or six after a loss, it seems easier in the moment to stuff it into an
emotional closet and slam the door. Maybe even padlock it. Sadly, it grows behind
that door and will break through more powerfully and perhaps destructively at
some later date if we persist in that pattern. (At least, that has been my
observation. I am not a pastoral or mental health professional.)
Pastor Mark Vroegop’s excellent new book, Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament, addresses both
obstacles to lament: lack of knowledge and lack of motivation. He takes a
pastoral and Bible-rooted approach to lament and extends its application beyond
my previous reading and thoughts. This is the first published resource I would
pull out for sharing the ideas of lament with a ministry professional or
someone at a place in their grieving process where they might be ready to read
again and take their own laments to the Lord. Moreover, it is the best book I
have read so far in 2019, in its author’s success at the task he set for
himself, the worthiness of that task, and the content’s suitability to my own place
in life.
Pastor Vroegop’s book comprises 3 sections: a consideration
of 4 lament Psalms for learning to lament, a thoughtful examination of the
biblical book of Lamentations for learning from lament, and a personal and
corporate applications section for learning with lament. The corporate
application thoughts particularly expanded my thinking beyond previous study,
but I think his ideas are good and helpful as a means of grieving together in
the body of Christ, whether in small groups or as a congregation. He commends
to the reader congregational lament as one helpful, healing response to tragedy,
such as this week’s school shooting, and some of the weighty, painful social
issues, such as racial conflict, that we face.
Here is one illustrative paragraph from the application
section that may prove useful even separated from the greater context of the
book:
I’m not naive enough to believe
that lament is the single solution for racial tension. There is much work to be
done in listening, understanding, addressing injustice, and fostering hope. But
I do think lament is a starting point—a place where people from majority
and minority backgrounds can meet. The beauty of this biblical language of
sorrow is its ability to provide a bridge robust enough to handle outrage and
empathy, frustration and faith, fear and hope. Lament can be our first step
toward one another when racial tension could drive a wedge. It is a God-given
means for vocalizing complicated and loaded pain. For centuries lament has been
the minor-key voice of people in pain. It is the language of loss that should
be prayed together. While lament can be applied to moments of individual loss,
its redemptive power is multiplied as we pursue it together. Whether it is
expressed in a funeral, modeled in a sermon, prayed or sung in a worship
service, applied in a small group, or voiced in the middle of racial tension,
lamenting together is an essential ministry of the body of Christ (2555).
To further support his intention of the reader using these
thoughts and not stopping at comprehension, he closes each chapter with
reflection questions suitable to individual or group use. I found these
helpful, stretching, and thoughtful. The four appendices provide additional
tools for the reader’s practice of lament: examples of complaints in the Bible,
a sampling of Psalms of lament, a worksheet or template for processing one’s
own laments, and examples of the but/yet emotional pivot common to the laments
of Scripture. Though brief, these do add value to the book.
The easy-to-remember structure he uses for biblical lament
can be expressed in 4 words: turn, complain, ask, and trust. First, the
lamenter turns to the Lord, which can be surprisingly difficult when enduring
pain we know He could have stopped but didn’t. Then the lamenter complains or
cries out, asking the honest how and why questions and refusing to respond to
pain by “giving God the silent treatment.” Then the lamenter asks the Lord for
help, comfort, relief, healing,…. In deep pain, especially prolonged and
intense pain, it is unbelievably easy for devout believers to stop asking.
Perhaps we have already prayed our hearts out and the Lord said no, so hoping
again with fresh requests feels to risky. Perhaps belief in God’s willingness
to hear and answer is wavering. Vroegop encourages us to use the discipline of
lament to push past those fears and ask boldly, with big requests. Finally,
most laments in Scripture end with a resolution to trust God in the pain,
however He may answer. The author shares anecdotes of the use of lament in
community, which allows the faith of a person near the pain to bolster the
trembling faith of the person in the depths of the pain. I have experienced
this but not connected it with the practice of lament.
The extended examination of Lamentations struck me as
unusual (never having heard a sermon on it or read perhaps even a single
complete book chapter on it) but useful. Jeremiah’s need and complaints were
extreme indeed, so this section fleshes out just how specific and ugly our
complaint prayers are free to be. Vroegop also highlights the gem of a
statement of trust at the heart of the book (in Lamentations 3).
Pithy, memorable sentences starting with “Lament is…” or
“Lament [does]…” are scattered throughout the book. These would be worth
compiling into a handout if using this in a grief group. Perhaps that would
even be another useful appendix in a future edition. Here are several:
- Lament is the honest cry of a hurting heart wrestling with the paradox of pain and the promise of God’s goodness (Kindle location 336).
- Lament is a prayer in pain that leads to trust (370).
- Lament creates a path through the messy wilderness of pain (1166).
- Lament is the language of loss as we grieve together (2566).
- Lament helps us embrace two truths at the same time: hard is hard; hard is not bad (2602).
- Lament is the bridge between dark clouds and deep mercy (2612).
All in all, I found this book extremely helpful, clearly
communicated, and pastoral in tone and tenderness. I intend to buy copies for
some of the pastoral staff at my church (most likely to have direct care of
grieving people) and a couple to have on hand as the need arises with others. I
highly recommend it. Those who do not have direct care for the grieving or an immediate need of guidance through their own grief would find it useful in loving the grieving
people they know who need encouragement or permission to turn to the Lord with
their honest complaints and biggest requests and help to trust Him in the
middle of the pain.
The author himself can perhaps conclude this reflection best:
Lament is how we bring our sorrow
to God. Without lament we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness,
and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead. Without lament we
won’t know how to help people walking through sorrow. Instead, we’ll offer
trite solutions, unhelpful comments, or impatient responses. What’s more,
without this sacred song of sorrow, we’ll miss the lessons historic laments are
intended to teach us. Lament is how Christians grieve. It is how to help
hurting people. Lament is how we learn important truths about God and our
world. My personal and pastoral experience has convinced me that biblical
lament is not only a gift but also a neglected dimension of the Christian life
for many twenty-first-century Christians. A broken world and an increasingly
hostile culture make contemporary Christianity unbalanced and limited in the
hope we offer if we neglect this minor-key song. We need to recover the ancient
practice of lament and the grace that comes through it. Christianity suffers
when lament is missing (300).
*****************************************************************
Crossway provided my free
copy of this eBook in exchange for an honest review. In this case, that was a
delight to provide.
