Mark Vroegop (MDiv, Grand Rapids Theological Seminary) is the lead pastor of College Park Church in Indianapolis. Mark is author of Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament, winner of the ECPA 2020 Christian book of the Year Award, Weep with Me: How Lament Opens a Door for Racial Reconciliation, and The Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy Devotional Journal. He is also a conference speaker and Council Member of The Gospel Coalition. Prior to serving at College Park, Mark served at a church in West Michigan for 13 years. He is a graduate of Cedarville University and Grand Rapids Theological Seminary (M. Div.).
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“It is precisely out of trust that God is sovereign that the psalmist repeatedly brings laments and petitions to the Lord. . . . If the psalmists had already decided the verdict—that God is indeed unfaithful—they would not continue to offer their complaint.” --Todd Billings; Rejoicing in Lament
 Mark Vroegop
Painful circumstances surface big and troubling questions. The psalmist wrestles with why God isn’t doing more. He begins to “consider the days of old,” to “remember my song in the night,” to “meditate in my heart,” and to make “a diligent search” (77:5–6). He is thinking and reflecting. 34 Learning to Lament This painful search leads to six pointed rhetorical questions: 1. “Will the Lord spurn forever?” (v. 7). 2. “Will [he] never again be favorable?” (v. 7). 3. “Has his steadfast love forever ceased?” (v. 8). 4. “Are his promises at an end for all time?” (v. 8). 5. “Has God forgotten to be gracious?” (v. 9). 6. “Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” (v. 9). Does the psalmist really believe God isn’t loving, doesn’t keep his promises, and is unfaithful? I don’t think so, and the rest of the psalm will bear this out. But he does something important here. Honestly praying this way recognizes that pain and suffering often create difficult emotions that are not based upon truth but feel true, nonetheless. Honest, humble, pain-filled questions are part of what it means to be a follower of Jesus. We’ll explore this more extensively in the next chapter when we learn about complaint. For now, I simply want you to see that lament is humbly turning to God through the pain. It takes faith to lay our painful questions before the Lord. Anyone can cry, but it takes faith to turn to God in lament.
--Mark Vroegop; Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament © 2019 |
Nov 3, 2024: Vroegop: The most important thing about being a pastor that didn’t learn at seminary is that I have to love my people more than I hate where they’re at. I learned this lesson at my first church. It was bit of a turnaround, kind of a story, a church renovation story, amazing place, but it was independent, fundamental King James only Beulah Land, singing, kind of church, and I landed there as a senior pastor at age 26 they took a risk on me and I on them. And I remember is that church started to change, that there were times it was really frustrating, of because there were so many things that we wanted to change and so many things that there needed to be changed taking place in but these were folks who love Jesus, but they needed time. And I remember in one particular staff meeting, a staff member expressing frustration about all of these things, and it just sort of came out of my mouth. Look, we have to love our people more than we hate where they’re at, because most people can’t be led to some place if they feel like you’re angry with them. |
For the Christian, the exodus event—the place where we find ultimate deliverance—is the cross of Christ. This is where all our questions—our heartaches and pain—should be taken. The cross shows us that God has already proven himself to be for us and not against us. The apostle Paul even quotes a lament, Psalm 44, before proclaiming the promise that nothing can separate us from the love of God: As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Rom. 8:36–39) The promise for Christians is as glorious as it is deep: Jesus bought the right to make everything right. Even if we are “killed all day long” or are “like sheep going to the slaughter,” nothing—no sorrow, no disappointment, no disease, no betrayal, not even death—can separate us from God’s love. Lament prayers celebrate this truth with tears
Lament is a prayer that leads us through personal sorrow and difficult questions into truth that anchors our soul. Psalm 77:11 includes an important and repeated word: “remember.” Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.” I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. Keep Turning to Prayer 35 I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds. (Ps. 77:10–12) This is where the lament prayer makes its turn toward resolution. In all we feel and all the questions we have, there comes a point where we must call to mind what we know to be true. The entire psalm shifts with the word “then” in verse 10 and the subsequent appeal to the history of God’s powerful deliverance. Important phrases are connected to this remembrance: “I will appeal . . . / to the years of the right hand of the Most High” (v. 10), and “will remember the deeds of the Lord” (v. 11a). This reflection becomes personal, as if the psalmist is talking directly to God: “Yes, I will remember your wonders of old” (v. 11b), and I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds. (v. 12) He is looking back and reflecting on the works of God in the past. Then the focus shifts again from the historical works of God to the very character of God. Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God? (v. 13
My soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. (Ps. 77:2–4) He’s praying, but it’s not bringing immediate comfort or resolution. His prayers are not “working.” Yet, he still prays. You need to know that lament does not always lead to an immediate solution. It does not always bring a quick or timely answer. Grief is not tame. Lament is not a simplistic formula. Instead, lament is the song you sing believing that one day God will answer and restore. Lament invites us to pray through our struggle with a life that is far from perfect.
It is better to ask them than not to ask them, because asking them sharpens the issue and pushes us toward the right, positive response. Alexander Maclaren writes, “Doubts are better put into plain speech than lying diffused and darkening, like poisonous mists, in [the] heart. A thought, be it good or bad, can be dealt with when it is made articulate.” --James Montgomery Boice, Psalms, vol. 2, Psalms 42–106, An Expositional Commentary
To cry is human, but to lament is Christian. -Mark Vroegop
I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted. (Ps. 77:1–2) The opening line of this lament, “I cry aloud to God,” frames the tone of the text. The psalmist is in pain, and yet he’s not silent. However, he is not just talking, complaining, or whimpering; he’s crying out in prayer. Other references to prayer follow in the first two verses: “He will hear me” (v. 1b), “In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord” (v. 2a), and “In the night my hand is stretched out without wearying” (v. 2b) (a reference to a prayer posture). Clearly the psalmist is reaching out to God in the midst of his pain. Please don’t miss this or take it for granted. It’s really important—in fact, it may be one of the reasons why you’re reading this book. It takes faith to pray a lament. To pray in pain, even with its messy struggle and tough questions, is an act of faith where we open up our hearts to God. Prayerful lament is better than silence. However, I’ve found that many people are afraid of lament. They find it too honest, too open, or too risky. But there’s something far worse: Giving God the silent treatment is the ultimate manifestation of unbelief. Despair lives under the hopeless resignation that God doesn’t care, he doesn’t hear, and nothing is ever going to change. People who believe this stop praying. They give up. However, lament directs our emotions by prayerfully vocalizing our hurt, our questions, and even our doubt. Turning to prayer through lament is one of the deepest and most costly demonstrations of belief in God.9
Lament is a prayer in pain that leads to trust. Throughout the Scriptures, lament gives voice to the strong emotions that believers feel because of suffering. It wrestles with the struggles that surface. Lament typically asks at least two questions: (1) “Where are you, God?” (2) “If you love me, why is this happening?”5 Sometimes these questions are asked by individuals. At other times they are asked by entire communities. Sometimes laments reflect upon difficult circumstances in general, sometimes because of what others have done, and sometimes because of the sinful choices of God’s people in particular. You might think lament is the opposite of praise. It isn’t. Instead, lament is a path to praise as we are led through our brokenness and disappointment.6 The space between brokenness and God’s mercy is where this song is sung. Think of lament as the transition between pain and promise. It is the path from heartbreak to hope.
One out of three psalms is in a minor key. Just think about that! A third of the official songbook of Israel wrestles with pain. But consider how infrequently laments appear in our hymnals or in our contemporary songs. I find this curious and concerning. Could it be that our prosperity, comfort, and love of triumphalism are reflected in what we sing? Is it possible that our unfamiliarity with lament is a by-product of a subtle misunderstanding of Christian suffering? Don’t get me wrong, there certainly is a place for celebration and joyful affirmation of the truths we believe. But I wonder about the long-term effect if the contemporary church and its people consistently miss this vital dimension of Christianity. The number of laments, their use, and their message invite us to consider the value of this biblical song of sorrow. Laments are in the Bible for a reason.
Dark Clouds, Deep Mercy: Discovering the Grace of Lament
By Mark Vroegop, Foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada
Named the ECPA 2020 Christian Book of the Year
Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting God’s goodness. Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God—but it is a neglected dimension of the Christian life for many Christians today. We need to recover the practice of honest spiritual struggle that gives us permission to vocalize our pain and wrestle with our sorrow. Lament avoids trite answers and quick solutions, progressively moving us toward deeper worship and trust.
Exploring how the Bible—through the psalms of lament and the book of Lamentations—gives voice to our pain, this book invites us to grieve, struggle, and tap into the rich reservoir of grace and mercy God offers in the darkest moments of our lives.
By Mark Vroegop, Foreword by Joni Eareckson Tada
Named the ECPA 2020 Christian Book of the Year
Lament is how you live between the poles of a hard life and trusting God’s goodness. Lament is how we bring our sorrow to God—but it is a neglected dimension of the Christian life for many Christians today. We need to recover the practice of honest spiritual struggle that gives us permission to vocalize our pain and wrestle with our sorrow. Lament avoids trite answers and quick solutions, progressively moving us toward deeper worship and trust.
Exploring how the Bible—through the psalms of lament and the book of Lamentations—gives voice to our pain, this book invites us to grieve, struggle, and tap into the rich reservoir of grace and mercy God offers in the darkest moments of our lives.