Lament is Worship
For Christians, Easter Sunday is a huge celebration. Ministry teams spend months planning the Good Friday and subsequent Easter services, trying to come up with a thought-provoking theme that’ll carry over the meaning of Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection.
After several Good Friday services, teams rest in the waiting period on Saturday and gather to celebrate the joy that comes on Easter Sunday. Churches bring out the best testimonies, the loudest singing, and the most energy to clap and shout alongside the confetti cannons to cheer that “CHRIST IS RISEN!”
What about the Sundays where someone got let go from his job, miscarried her child, or found out their spouse was unfaithful? What about the Sundays when people are suffering from injustice or abused for their age, gender, or sexuality?
But what about Sundays where everyone has been asked to stream services virtually, away from community? What about the Sundays where someone got let go from his job, miscarried her child, or found out their spouse was unfaithful? What about the Sundays when people are suffering from injustice or abused for their age, gender, or sexuality? And what about Easter Sundays like in 2019, where 321 people in Sri Lanka were bombed for choosing to celebrate Christ’s resurrection?
In all the moments that bring people joy, happiness, and contentment, there are arguably many more moments that cause heartache, suffering, and anguish, especially in a broken world.
We also need to remember those who are suffering on “Saturday,” waiting for the hope and restoration promised come Sunday morning.
Despite the fact that every day should be celebrated as an opportunity and gift in light of Christ’s resurrection, we also need to remember those who are suffering on “Saturday,” waiting for the hope and restoration promised come Sunday morning.
The psalmist questions a good God in his poignant lament, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and day after day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me?” (Psalm 13:1–2).
How can evil things happen to good people? Why did this happen to me? Why now?
For those of us stuck in the limbo of the Saturday between Christ’s death and resurrection, we are grieving, desperate for answers. How can evil things happen to good people? Why did this happen to me? Why now?
The psalmist continues in verse 3 and 4, “Look on me and answer, Lord my God. Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death, and my enemy will say, ‘I have overcome him,’ and my foes will rejoice when I fall.”
He hopes for answers to when the waiting will be over. He desires for victory to come sooner than later and longs for rest from the torment of depression and failure.
And although the psalmist receives no clear answers, he is renewed by God’s presence and given new eyes of faith, “But I trust in your unfailing love; my heart rejoices in your salvation. I will sing the Lord’s praise, for he has been good to me” (Psalm 13:5–6).
So on Sundays where people are asking for deliverance from their anguish, what do we tell them? How do we help them journey from Good Friday to Easter Sunday?
Do we continue to sing songs of celebration even when people amidst the body of believers are suffering?
The answer is yes, but messages acknowledging and grieving the brokenness are also necessary.
Encouraging congregants to remember God’s goodness and love in the midst of their suffering is worship.
Encouraging congregants to remember God’s goodness and love in the midst of their suffering is worship.
Just as much as celebration and joy are a part of worshipping the Lord, worship should also be done well through lament, reminding believers that this world is not our home.
And since we’re not home yet, we have much to look forward to when the ultimate reunion between creation and Creator comes again.
