Our culture does not handle grief and pain very well at all. We have no idea what to do with our sorrow, so we tend either to wallow in it, ignore it, or numb ourselves against it.
Making matters worse is the fact that we are the first culture in the history of the world with virtually no resources to handle tragedy. In his book Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering, Tim Keller observes that people in Western society have to borrow from other cultures or worldviews to make sense of their pain. Days after the Newtown school shooting in December 2012, the New York Times ran an editorial column entitled “Why, God?,” offering a Catholic priest’s response to the massacre. Immediately the comments exploded with answers, most of them differing from the Catholic view, but in wildly different ways. Some suggested the answer was karma—i.e., present suffering pays for past sins. Some found comfort in Buddhism, suggesting that the material world and suffering are illusory. Some reached back to the philosophers of the classical Greek and Roman era, who said suffering makes you stronger. Many tried the purely secular approach: since this world is all we have, we should direct our energy toward making it a better place. A few offered a watered down, semi-Christian answer: heaven will reunite us with lost loved ones and provide a consolation prize for all we’ve lost.
Sadly, we in the church don’t do much better. We offer clichés. We remind people to look on the good side. We slap on a promise and hope the problem goes away. Most commonly, we withdraw altogether and leave the sufferer to grieve alone.
Why is it that, in the church, we evaluate how someone is handling their loss by whether they seem positive and happy? Why do we think someone is doing really well if they stop crying really quickly? Why are we so uncomfortable around honest expressions of grief? Why do we expect our worship songs to be chipper, happy, and peppy, almost like a Christian pep rally?
When Jesus encountered suffering, he did not lead people in songs of praise. He didn’t tell them to have more faith. He didn’t even remind them God has a plan. He just wept with them. He groaned. He lamented.
Over the next few weeks, I’d like to use this column to explore biblical lament. Stay tuned.
