Thursday, December 16, 2010

DROWNING: A Metaphor of Fear


I've been thinking of the word "lament" and what it means, and at the same time, I have been reading the book, The God of All Comfort by Dee Brestin. I came across some thoughts she had on lamenting-how does lament play out in your lives these days? The following are some thoughts to ponder on the subject. I highly recommend you read the book, The God of All Comfort. It will bless your heart.

"Drowning is the psalms' repeated metaphor for the fear that engulfs the person in overwhelming circumstances. When we first receive catastrophic news, whatever it is, it feels as if "cords of death" have entangled us, trapping us, pulling us down. But then, a rescue! In Psalm 18, God Almighty hears the cry of His child and parts the heavens to fly on the wings of the wind. The earth quakes, and the mountains fall down, for the Rescuer is coming.

But what if the rescue is not the kind we anticipate? Sometimes, instead of stopping the wild waters, God throws us a lifeline in the midst of the storm - the lifeline of lament. This isn't what we hoped for, but it is His way of helping us hold onto Him when suffering surrounds us. The lament frees us to be honest with God and to dialogue with Him.

Many psalms begin with a wail of lament, like the cry of someone drowning. But then, somewhere before the close of each psalm, the Spirit quickens the psalmist to trust God, even though the psalmist still doesn't understand what God is doing. The psalmist trusts because he is reminded of God's heart and character.

But not always. Two psalms end in complete despair. Psalm 39 closes with a plea for God to look away so the psalmist might rejoice again! The other psalm of despair is Psalm 88, which has been called, "Heman's Cry of Darkness." Heman, like Asaph, was a lead singer, and has written some of the most beautiful psalms in the Psalter. But in Psalm 88, darkness is the theme from the beginning to the bitter end. Heman is crying out to God "day and night," for, he says, "You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths" and taken "all my loved ones," and "hidden your face." Water images are in this psalm as well, a common metaphor for a gried, as Heman cries: "You have overwhelmed me with all your waves," and "your terrors surround me like a flood." We expect for Heman's soul to take a turn by the end, as in the other psalms of lamentation, but that does not happen. The psalm closes with: "The darkness is my closest friend."

These two psalms are a gift. They show that even when we cannot come to the point of saying, "But I will trust You, Lord." God understands. He understands because He's been there. When darkness covered the earth at Golgotha, when the earth shook and it seemed that God Almighty was coming on the wings of the wind to rescue His beloved Son - instead, there was no rescue, Jesus cried, "My God, My God - why have you forsaken me?" Jesus understands what it feels like to be drowning with no apparent rescue in sight.

But we have what Heman, Job, and the psalmists did not have. We are on this side of the cross, and we know that because Jesus was forsaken, we never will be. When we are sinking into the dark and swirling waters, we must remember that this lifeline of lament is hurled by a compassionate hand that, indeed, is acquainted with sorrow. Grab it, and don't let go."