As worship curators we usually envision our main function as modeling and facilitating the praises of the people. The praise of God is certainly important and is modeled for us in the Psalms and throughout Scripture. But, there is another type of response to God also found in the Psalms that we tend to avoid like the plague. In fact, even in the midst of a plague, most of us would still avoid it.

I am speaking of lament.

A lament is a sorrowful outpouring of emotion for some kind of distress, whether physical, mental, or spiritual. Psalm 88 is a good – and particularly bleak – example. The psalmist starts with a very brief affirmation that God can save. Following this, the pray-er lays out his “troubles”, which include: being near-death (v.3), the loss of strength (v.4), and the loss of friends (v.8). Beyond all of this, God’s presence and actions are called into question. The writer claims to be “set apart with the dead,” and “cut off from [God's] care” (v.5). In verse 8 and in verse 18, he says that God is the one who has taken away his closest friends. Though this oppressed one cries out to God for help, the LORD remains hidden and has rejected his cries (v.14).

Does anyone wonder why Psalm 88 is not often listed among peoples’ favorite Psalms? And yet, God has chosen to include this type of prayer in the Book. In addition to this psalm, scripture contains other psalms of complaint, as well as the often-neglected book of Lamentations, and the often-misunderstood book of Job. Why did God figure we need such expressions of sorrow and what does this have to do with curating worship?

Renowned Psalms scholar Walter Brueggemann says that without lament our worship is reduced to “uncritical history-stifling praise.” He means that to neglect the acknowledgment of our painful situations before God leaves us only with shallow thanksgiving that denies an authentic relationship between worshipers and Yahweh. A failure to speak to God of our hurt is a failure to acknowledge that our world has gone bad. It is also a failure to present an opportunity for God to act on our behalf. In short, lacking lament, our relationship with God becomes similar to our shallow relationships with human acquaintances to whom we only expose our “brave face.” How can we as leaders bring the vital practice of lament back into our faith communities? Below, I suggest three of many possibilities.

First, we can become students of the parts of Scripture that model lament. Study psalms like 88, 89, 109, and others to see how praise and lament interact. Psalm 89 is an interesting example since it is full of pure praise until verse 38 after which point God is suddenly accused of having “renounced the covenant with [his] servant” (v.39). It seems that the psalmist is calling God to live up to the character and actions listed in verses 1-37. Notice that in this particular case, the psalm does not end with resolution or even praise. Immersing ourselves in scriptural laments will help us better understand the way God invites us to authentically express our struggles. As we learn, we can help those we lead to understand.

Second, we can compose prayers of lament on behalf of those individuals in our midst that are in pain. Practice by writing a lament from your own experience.

1) Start by acknowledging God’s past faithfulness.

2) Then, move to reflecting on a time when things were going fine and then went bad.

3) Express in metaphorical language how you cried out to God and the way God answered you – or didn’t.

4) Finish with some words of thanksgiving for God’s provision, or alternatively, words of hope toward God’s not-yet-realized act of salvation.

The above lament-writing exercise can be used for any particular life-situation in your community. Write a psalm of lament for someone who is hurting, share it with them, and then tell them how you are praying with them. Here’s a lament I wrote from my wife’s perspective when we were trying unsuccessfully to have a child.

Thirdly, we can give our congregations creative opportunities to express their anguish to God. Perhaps the final fruit of our growing familiarity with laments in the Bible, and of our practice writing our own pleas to God will be new songs or litanies that can be used in the congregation. There are many times throughout the year that laments are appropriate for worship. During Lent, confessional laments can be tremendously powerful when spoken together in the midst of worship. When your local body experiences the sudden death of a member, the community can express its grief through songs or readings that portray feelings of sadness and mourning. This practice should replace the way we typically avoid sorrow in worship and head straight to hope and peace. During Holy Week, your team might create an interactive Good Friday experience that embraces the horror of Christ’s crucifixion, allowing for contemplative space before simply rushing to the joy of resurrection. During seasons of personal, church-wide, or national crisis, reading aloud portions of laments from Scripture can result in hope for the future and jubilant thanksgiving as God eventually brings resolution to these situations.

In today’s culture, we much prefer hidden despair to open lament. We use consumerism, addictions, escapism, and even violence as mechanisms to help us deny the pain we truly experience in life. These methods of denial sometimes work so well that we even fool ourselves into thinking our lives are pain-free. As curators of worship, we can combat this cultural failure by learning about, practicing, and encouraging honest lament.

Brueggeman claims that without properly acknowledging God’s salvation from troubled times we have no real context to appropriately praise him. If we believe this to be true, we would be better leaders to embrace lament as one of our key methods toward prompting the praises of the people.

For more info try reading:
Walter Bruggeman’s article The Costly Loss of Lament and
Kathleen, O’Conner’s book Lamentations and the Tears of the World.

This post first appeared on Creative Worship Tour, April 15, 2010.

image © iStockphoto