This article has been adapted from a sermon by Tim Geiger at Covenant Church. You can watch or listen to the entire sermon using the embeded players on this page.
Most of us know what it feels like to be sad, discouraged, anxious, angry, lonely, or afraid. But lament is more than simply feeling bad. Biblical lament is what happens when we bring those painful emotions and difficult circumstances honestly before God. It is not denial, and it is not despair. It is faith speaking from the middle of pain.
Psalms 42 and 43 give us a powerful invitation to lament. These two psalms are often understood as one unified prayer because they share the same repeated refrain: “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God.” That refrain appears twice in Psalm 42 and once in Psalm 43, forming the heartbeat of the whole prayer.
This matters because lament is not a minor theme in Scripture. The Psalms are the prayer book and hymn book of the Bible, and nearly a third of them are categorized as psalms of lament. God has given His people these prayers because the ordinary experience of the ordinary believer includes grief, confusion, complaint, longing, and pain. We have things to bring to God, and He invites us to bring them honestly.
Lament often takes place in what we might call liminal space. That is the space between what happened and what comes next. It is the place where we sit with consequences, confusion, loss, and uncertainty. It is the uncomfortable middle where the pain is real, but the resolution has not yet come.
We do not like that space. We want answers. We want closure. We want the pain to go away. But God often meets us there, not merely to explain our circumstances, but to deepen our relationship with Him. Lament invites us to sit with the Lord in the unresolved places of life, listening to our emotions and looking for God’s presence in the middle of what we cannot yet fix.
That makes lament both difficult and deeply faithful. It refuses to pretend that everything is fine, but it also refuses to believe that God is absent.
Lament Is a Sign of Faith
Many of us were taught, directly or indirectly, that we should never question God. We may have learned that faithful Christians simply submit quietly, push through pain, and avoid bringing hard questions to the Lord. But that view does not fit the Psalms, and it does not fit the heart of God.
God wants relationship with His people. He wants us to know Him, not merely obey Him at a distance. He invites us to trust Him with our thoughts, feelings, hopes, fears, joys, and sorrows. Lament is an act of faith because it brings pain to God rather than away from Him.
The writer of Psalms 42 and 43 is not pretending. He feels separated from worship and from the place where God’s presence was especially known. He feels mocked by enemies who ask, “Where is your God?” He feels overwhelmed, like someone caught beneath crashing waves. He feels oppressed and exposed, longing for God to vindicate and deliver him.
And yet, he brings all of this to God.
That is why lament is faith. The psalmist’s pain is not directed into emptiness. It is directed toward the Lord. These psalms mention God again and again because the psalmist is not merely venting; he is praying. He is saying, “This is what I am facing. This is how I am feeling. Help me.” That kind of prayer is honest, raw, real, and deeply faithful.
When life pulls us under, we often reach for strategies that promise relief but cannot actually heal us. We may try to buckle down and pretend we are fine. We may distract ourselves with busyness, entertainment, shopping, food, alcohol, pornography, or other forms of escape. We may try to create an alternate reality where the pain does not feel so sharp.
But none of those strategies can do what lament does. They may numb us for a moment, but they cannot bring us into deeper communion with God. Lament is different because it brings our real selves before the real God.
Rather than avoiding the liminal space, lament teaches us to meet God there.
God does not merely want to change our circumstances. Often, He uses our circumstances to draw us closer to Himself. That does not minimize suffering. It does not mean pain is good in itself. It means that in the middle of pain, God is still present, still loving, and still at work.
One of the great gifts of lament is that it helps us discover that God sees us and knows what we are feeling. He is not detached from our suffering. He created us. He knows us completely. He understands how our circumstances affect us. He comforts us through His love, His presence, and His faithfulness.
This is not always easy to believe. Sometimes suffering is long-lived. Some people carry physical or mental illness that seems only to worsen. Some are dealing with disappointing relationships, betrayal, children or loved ones walking away from faith, or grief that feels too heavy to name. In those places, it can be hard to believe that God is good.
But lament invites us to bring even that struggle to Him. It invites us to consider that God may be using even the painful middle to show us that our circumstances do not define us. He defines us. His love is deeper than the things we want repaired, even though He cares deeply about the pain those things cause.
Lament also teaches us to understand our own hearts more truthfully. It gives us space to recognize fear, anger, sorrow, disappointment, and doubt without pretending they are not there. But it does not leave us inside those emotions. It trains us to hope.
The repeated refrain of Psalms 42 and 43 is not a quick fix. “Why are you cast down, O my soul? And why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God.” This is not denial. It is spiritual self-counsel. The psalmist is learning to speak truth to his own soul.That is part of lament. We bring our pain to God, and then we learn to hope in Him again. Not a hope rooted in getting exactly what we want, but a hope rooted in the character and love of the God we were made for.
Lament is not approaching a cosmic customer service counter to get our problems resolved as quickly as possible. It is growing in relationship with our loving Father and learning to be content in His presence, even before everything is fixed.
The Psalms ultimately point us to Jesus. As a first-century Jew, Jesus would have prayed the Psalms. He quoted them repeatedly, and on the cross He prayed the words of lament: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” That cry from Psalm 22 sounds very close to the lament of Psalm 42: “Why have you forgotten me?”
Jesus knows lament from the inside.
On the cross, He experienced abandonment, agony, and the violent absence of the communion He had shared with the Father from eternity. And yet, even there, Jesus also prayed, “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” He moved through lament with trust. He brought anguish to the Father and entrusted Himself to the Father. That means we do not lament alone. Jesus has gone before us. He knows what it is to cry out in pain, and He teaches us how to bring our pain into the presence of God.
The purpose of lament is not simply to air grievances or ask God for help, though both of those may be part of it. The deeper purpose of lament is spiritual formation. Through lament, God shapes us to become more like Jesus. He teaches us to see Him as good and trustworthy even in hard circumstances. He trains us to run to Him for refuge and hope because He is greater than what we are facing.
So when your soul is cast down, do not assume that faith means silence. Do not assume that grief means failure. Do not assume that hard questions offend God.
Bring them to Him.
Tell Him where it hurts. Tell Him what you fear. Tell Him what feels absent. Tell Him where you feel overwhelmed. And then, with the psalmist, learn to say again: “Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.”
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