Have you ever felt the pressure to be happy at church, even when your heart is breaking? In a Christian culture that often values smiles over sorrow, what do we do with our real feelings of grief, anger, and pain? In this message, we explore the powerful and often-forgotten spiritual practice of lament. Using his own awkward experiences with trying to "fix" sadness, our pastor dives into the raw story of Naomi in the book of Ruth, the honest cries in the Psalms, and the ultimate lament of Jesus on the cross. You'll discover that God isn't asking you to be happy; He's inviting you to be honest. This sermon is for anyone who is tired of pretending, for those who feel distant from God in their suffering, and for anyone who has ever wondered if their sadness is a sign of a weak faith. Learn how your sorrow might be the most honest—and powerful—prayer you've ever prayed.
In Scripture, lament isn’t faithlessness—it’s faith speaking through tears.
1) The Raw Cry of a Grieving Widow: Naomi — Ruth 1:11–13, 19–21 (NIV)
No, my daughters. It is more bitter for me than for you, because the LORD’s hand has turned against me!” Ruth 1:11–13, NIV
“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter.” Ruth 1:20, NIV
2) The Sacred Playlist for Our Pain: The Psalms — Lament as Faith
“Why, LORD, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?” Psalm 10:1, NIV
“How long, LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?” Psalm 13:1,
“How long, Lord, will you look on?” Psalm 35:17, NIV
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Psalm 22:1, NIV
3) The Climax of Lament: Jesus on the Cross — Mark 15:34; Psalm 22
“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” Mark 15:34; Psalm 22:1, NIV
v.11 The reference is to the custom of levirate marriage, whereby the brother of a man who died childless married the widow to raise up an heir for the deceased. The custom is regulated in Deuteronomy 25:5ff. (cf. Matt. 22:24ff.). Evidently the first child was accounted as though the son of the dead man. Naomi is saying that there is no prospect of such a marriage in this case. Morris
Naomi makes it abundantly clear that, at least in her understanding, the earlier famine in Bethlehem, her family’s sojourn in Moab, the deaths of her husband and sons, and the barrenness of her daughters-in-law are all evidences of God’s hand as the cause of her hardships. She feels she is the target of God’s overwhelming power and wrath. That God is actively behind these events will be affirmed throughout the story; that he is punishing Naomi—at least as Naomi feels is the case—is not necessarily correct. God is not “out to get her”. - Younger
“In the OT, the “hand of Yahweh” symbolized the irresistible power of God which, for example, routed the Philistines (1 Sam. 5:9, 11), empowered fearful Elijah (1 K. 18:46), and comforted distraught Ezra (Ezra 7:9, 28)…Thus, Naomi made her most crucial point. If even God was after her, to follow her home was to court personal disaster. Her earlier tragedies—famine, exile, bereavement, childlessness—might be only the beginning. One ought to shun such a person to escape the maelstrom of her misfortune. What better argument to make return to Moab attractive! But one must not overlook the great theological import of her outcry for the story. By holding Yahweh responsible for her losses, Naomi affirmed his participation in the events. Thus, despite appearances, things were not out of control; if he is at least involved, Yahweh might very well straighten things out. In sum, her bitter complaint cloaked firm faith.” Hubbard.
“At the same time, Naomi’s lament turns inward. Her genuine faith and deep love combine with hints of bitterness (“God has attacked me”) and self-pity (“it is more bitter for me than you”). Absent in her lament is any recognition that her family might have erred in leaving Bethlehem. God is the only one at fault. We’ll discover later that the narrator suggests that the return to Bethlehem was a kind of repentance on Naomi’s part. Instinctively, we like neat categories of saint or sinner. But like many of us, Naomi is ambiguous. Accepting ambiguity is immensely helpful in the work of love, because when we encounter this strange mixture of good and bad in another person, we tend to lock onto the evil and miss the good. We don’t like ambiguity. We prefer the clarity of judging.” – Paul Miller
“As Naomi considered her sad circumstances, she understood rightly that the Lord was in control. The bitter pill she was tasting was from him. But how does this fit with his transforming kindness? As we carefully trace the Lord’s dealings with men and women in the Bible, we see how the different aspects of his character always fit together. This means that tasting his bitter pill is never inconsistent with his kindness. The opening verses of Ruth tell us that tasting the Lord’s bitter pill can often be the necessary preparation for undeserving people to experience his kindness…For Naomi, tasting the Lord’s bitter pill was not the only experience she had of the Lord. It prepared the way for a wonderful experience of his kindness. - Jonathan Prime
For next week, read Ruth 1:11-13
Pastor Sam Sutter // Sam@bbcconline.org
Who Should Come to the Lord’s Table?
[T]hose who are truly sorrowful for their sins, and yet trust that these are forgiven them for the sake of Christ; and that their remaining infirmities are covered by his passion and death; and who also earnestly desire to have their faith more and more strengthened, and their lives more holy; but hypocrites, and such as turn not to God with sincere hearts, eat and drink judgment to themselves. 1 Cor. 10:19-22; 11:26-32, Ps. 50:14-16; Isa. 1:11-17
– Heidelberg Catechism Q&A 81
