Tag: Lament

How Short, O Lord?

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

I teach college students, so I know the excitement that mid-August can bring. A new school year is full of possibilities.

My excitement this year is mixed with sadness. My wife and I dropped off our oldest daughter at college this week. She’s not studying on a different continent, but she’s not right around the corner. We’re going to miss her.

Those who know me best know I’ve been anticipating this event with something less than pure joy. (For almost a year I’ve been telling people that I was feeling pre-sad.) But some good friends have recently helped me remember who God is and what this transition represents.

The God of Time

We may not often phrase it this way, but time was one of the things God created and pronounced good. We affirm that God exists outside of time, but he spoke time into being on the first day of creation; we see this in the existence of evening and morning (Gen 1:5).

Time, therefore, was among the “everything” that God saw and pronounced “very good” at the end of creation’s sixth day (Gen 1:31).

So God has created time and rules over it. The days and months and seasons are under his control. And we should also affirm that the fact we have periods of our lives is good. This is the way God has designed our world to work: the earth spins and orbits, the clock hands rotate, and time passes.

The Nature of Seasons

The essence of a season or period of time is that it has a beginning and end. These starting and ending points may not be predictable, but they exist for us as finite beings.

So often we want to hold onto the past and resist the change that time brings. At its core, this is a subtle way of cutting against the grain of creation, of whispering that God may not be governing all things very well.

God wants thanksgiving and remembrance from us. Many of the festivals and worship occasions for believers throughout the ages celebrated what God has done. But rejoicing in what has past is not the same as grumbling that we no longer live there. We remember what has been done so we can live faithfully into the future.

Mourning is Real

The cry of David in Psalm 13:1 is “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” And this is the familiar plea of those who lament. Their circumstances are difficult, maybe nearly intolerable, whether because of illness, sorrow, or persecution. The deliverance they seek is an end to their situation—in essence, they want God to intervene by speeding time up.

I’ve found myself wanting the opposite this summer, essentially praying, How short, O Lord? How short and fleeting are these days with my dear daughter? How will we manage as a family with such a glaring absence? Could you, perhaps, slow time down just a bit?

Not Bad, Just Different

My family is entering a new reality, and some of the sadness I’ve been feeling is mourning the end of a season. No longer will both of my children be at home, available for a conversation just by walking down the hall.

There have been some seasons of parenting that could not pass quickly enough. My wife and I were quite glad when each of our children reached the age of 2. Other seasons (like the one that just ended) are much sweeter, seasons we’re not eager to leave.

But God is good and he governs time well. He goes with his people, including my oldest daughter. God cares for her more than I do, and he will be faithful to her. Though I’m feeling blue this week, I’m learning that turning the page on a season doesn’t make the present worse—it’s just different.

We’re finite creatures made by an infinite God with a longing to be with him. For those in Christ, we will realize this desire one day. Until then, we live as those in time, with all of the accompanying joys and sorrows.

And, this week, some of us will learn how to cheer on new college students from hundreds of miles away.

Post credit | Photo credit

Links for the Weekend (2025-09-05)

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Each Friday, I’ll post links to 3–5 resources from around the web you may want to check out.

How can I trust God when he doesn’t answer my prayers?

Here’s another thoughtful CCEF video (with transcript) answering this hard question: How can I trust God when he doesn’t answer my prayers? Aaron Sironi directs us to the Psalms of lament.

Isn’t it amazing that the psalms of lament were written down and passed from one generation to the next by saints who went before us, who also suffered greatly and who were troubled, deeply troubled, and even shaken by the fact that God was not answering or helping them, that they experienced his silence and even distance? And the whole purpose of the psalms of lament is that we would grow and develop a deeper trust and a deeper faith in the Lord at those times and at those seasons when we cannot see or hear him.

Sola Scriptura: A Firm Foundation for Making Disciples

Here’s a good definition and explanation of sola scriptura as well as an explanation of how useful this doctrine is in our spiritual growth.

People rarely revel in foundations and are generally not wowed by soil walls or gravel footings. We don’t show off our concrete slabs to houseguests. Yet if our foundation crumbles, the entire house falls into ruin. Likewise, if we fail to stand firm upon God’s Word, the entire church will face disaster. Foundations are never flashy, but the foundation of sola Scriptura, Latin for “by Scripture alone,” has upheld disciple-makers generation after generation.

Everyday Pacing

Our poem of the week: Everyday Pacing, by Alyssa Strzalka. This poem is about a summer evening and being rooted to a particular place in the world.

On the WPCA Blog This Week

This week on the blog we published an article I wrote called Living Hope and the Resurrection of Jesus. If you haven’t already seen it, check it out!

Note: Washington Presbyterian Church and the editors of this blog do not necessarily endorse all content produced by the individuals or groups referenced here. 

Sorrow: An Engine of Christian Hope

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Hope may not be a fruit of the Spirit, but it is a Christian virtue. And the authors of the New Testament presume that those who are in Christ will grow in hope just as they grow in love and faith. (See Romans 15:13, 1 Peter 1:13, and Hebrews 6:11, for example.)

How therefore do we grow in hope?

The Christian life—and human life in general—offers scores of opportunities to increase our hope reflexes. In this post we’ll address the path to hope through sorrow.

Recognizing All That is Not Right

Here’s my definition of Christian hope: hope is the joyful expectation that God will keep his promises. Some events in our lives offer a brief taste of those kept promises, making us aware of the great fulfillment that is to come. (This will be the subject of a future post.) Yet some circumstances make us see just how far we are away from that fulfillment.

In a world marked by sin, we are bound to see misery and sadness all around us. God does not expect us to pretend that everything is fine; he has given us lament as a category of prayer for just these confusing, dispiriting, and gut-wrenching times.

However, properly understood, lament ends in hope. So, these times of great sadness can be opportunities to grow in this powerful Christian virtue.

Injustice

We do not need to search very hard for examples of injustice in the world. Many Christians have been the target of unjust actions or policies, and all of us have observed gross acts of injustice throughout the world.

We rightly cry out when the wicked flourish and the righteous are victims of hatred and violence.

God is just, and he promises that justice will rule one day. A key part of growing in hope is learning these promises, resting on them, and expecting God to keep them.

Behold my servant, whom I uphold,
    my chosen, in whom my soul delights;
    I have put my Spirit upon him;
    he will bring forth justice to the nations.
    He will not cry aloud or lift up his voice,
    or make it heard in the street;
    a bruised reed he will not break,
    and a faintly burning wick he will not quench;
    he will faithfully bring forth justice.
    He will not grow faint or be discouraged
    till he has established justice in the earth;
    and the coastlands wait for his law. (Isaiah 42:1–4)

“Behold, the days are coming, declares the Lord, when I will raise up for David a righteous Branch, and he shall reign as king and deal wisely, and shall execute justice and righteousness in the land. In his days Judah will be saved, and Israel will dwell securely. And this is the name by which he will be called: ‘The Lord is our righteousness.’” (Jeremiah 23:5–6)

Additionally, the notion of hell depends in part on God’s justice. Because God is holy and humans sin against him, these offenses must be dealt with. For Christians, the wrath of God was satisfied at the cross (1 Peter 2:24), and for unbelievers, God will be vindicated in hell (see Matthew 25:31–46, Revelation 21:8).

Sickness and Death

Sickness and death are one of the greatest causes of our sorrow. And we rightly lament this reality because this is not the way things should be. And, of course, this is not the way things will be!

Jesus’s resurrection is the sure sign that resurrection is to come for those united to him. We have these sure promises.

Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26)

I tell you this, brothers: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable. Behold! I tell you a mystery. We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, and the dead will be raised imperishable, and we shall be changed. For this perishable body must put on the imperishable, and this mortal body must put on immortality. (1 Corinthians 15:50–53)

The promise of bodily resurrection from the dead is fundamental to Christian hope. But we must not let familiarity with this promise dull its extravagant audacity. Raised from the dead! New bodies!

Loneliness

Many commenters have written about a modern epidemic of loneliness, but a sorrowful aloneness has been a part of the human experience for millennia. We rightly mourn the loss of relationships and the absence or coolness of friends, but our mourning can point us to a better day on the horizon.

Yes, God is present with his people now and has promised not to forsake them (Hebrews 13:5). But a greater sense of God’s presence awaits us.

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne saying, “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. (Revelation 21:1–3)

God will be with us as our God; he will dwell with us—in fact, that will be his dwelling place.

For those in Christ, all loneliness has an expiration date. God has promised.

From Sadness to Hope

Sorrow is nothing to seek out, but rightly understood it is an opportunity to grow.

Our prayers of lament begin with complaint but they end in hope. We realize that our aching and sadness is a longing for something God has promised. We can build a solid foundation on God’s promises, joyfully anticipating the way he will keep them and turn our sadness on its head.

Post credit | Photo credit

Links for the Weekend (2023-10-20)

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Each Friday, I’ll post links to 3–5 resources from around the web you may want to check out.

The Last Thing Sufferers Need to Hear

Does the sovereignty of God bring comfort in the midst of suffering? It can, but it might not be the first thing to share with a grieving friend.

But for others, these truths—prematurely applied—can bypass the grieving process that needs to happen to fully reckon with and heal from a loss. Our brains often work in binaries, assuming that if God is in control, we shouldn’t make a fuss about it. Good theology can be used to heal the wound lightly, pronouncing “Peace, peace” when, in the raw heart of the bereaved, there is no peace (Jer. 6:14).

The Power And Pitfall Of Vulnerability

This author writes about learning to be vulnerable and the difference between online and local vulnerability.

I hated vulnerability because I’d rather push through life on my own. Put my head down, wipe the sweat and tears from my face, and plow forward alone. I sought independence, because it was the only way to keep my pride before others. If they knew what laid in my closet, they’d mock me, disown me. No one could see the shadows and grim behind my façade.

The Afterlife

This article is another entry in the “Theology in the Everyday” series at For The Church. The author here explains the Bible’s teaching on what happens after we die.

On the WPCA Blog This Week

This week on the blog we published an article I wrote called Taking a Biblical Worldview to My Back Yard. If you haven’t already seen it, check it out!

Note: Washington Presbyterian Church and the editors of this blog do not necessarily endorse all content produced by the individuals or groups referenced here. 

Links for the Weekend (2023-10-13)

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Each Friday, I’ll post links to 3–5 resources from around the web you may want to check out.

Beware the Corrosive Quest for Respectability

Here’s a bracing exhortation for Christians not to seek out acceptance from the broader culture. The article lists some common arenas in which this temptation shows up and offers some advice for resisting.

Whatever credibility your constant digs at “those other Christians” earns you in the eyes of cultural elites, it’ll all be lost the minute they find out you actually believe what the Bible says about sexuality or the exclusivity of Christ (among other things). That’s perhaps the greatest reason efforts at “respectability” are a fool’s errand. Even if you say and do all the right things, if you believe a few wrong things, respectability will be elusive and elite access will be denied.

Dad, Where Are You Going?

How does a father discuss his terminal cancer diagnosis with his young sons? Tim Albert writes about the ways God has helped him grapple with this question using Psalm 77.

My son’s innocent question strikes at the core of my fears. He hardly knows what cancer is, let alone that his dad has it. I’ve avoided the conversation to this point, but spend a significant portion of each day replaying what seems inevitable in the theater of my mind: life cut short and my boys growing up without their father. 

Seven Blessings for Empty-Handed Believers

Colin Smith writes about what it looks like to turn to the Lord and let go of our pride.

People who feel they have something to offer God come to him with their hands full, but as long as our hands are full, we are not in a position to receive. As Thomas Watson says, “If the hand is full of pebbles, it cannot receive gold.”

People who are poor in spirit drop the pebbles because they want the gold, and they know that it can only be received by empty-handed believers. When you know that you have nothing to offer God, you are in a position to receive all that he offers to you. When you accept that you cannot claim his blessing as a right, you are in a position to receive it as a gift.

Note: Washington Presbyterian Church and the editors of this blog do not necessarily endorse all content produced by the individuals or groups referenced here. 

Links for the Weekend (2023-05-12)

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Each Friday, I’ll post links to 3–5 resources from around the web you may want to check out.

Young People, Go Outside

This article by Becky Wilson explains how God uses nature to declare his glory and to help us fight sin.

I admit that I can be rather ridiculous in my enjoyment of nature. My daughters have rolled their eyes at me many times when I squeal with delight at the sight of some little bird or ladybug or lizard. Imagine my reaction to watching baby sea turtles find their way into the ocean a few years ago. Forget about it. I might have (definitely) cried.

What’s the Difference between Venting and Lamenting?

Understanding the difference between venting our emotions and lamenting before God is an important part of learning to lament.

Christians today are increasingly aware of the importance of emotions. This growing emotional awareness is a positive development—especially when we learn how to process those emotions with God! At the same time, and perhaps even connected to this heightened emotional awareness, there is a growing recognition of the importance of lament.

But as we think through processing our emotions and practicing lament, there is an important distinction to make. That distinction is the difference between venting and lamenting.

“That’s Just Your Interpretation”

You may have heard this rebuttal when making an argument from Scripture. This article helps us think about that comment and how to engage with it.

When someone says “That’s just your interpretation,” or when critics slander conservative Christians as believing not just in the infallibility of the Bible but in the infallibility of their interpretation of the Bible, the next step is almost never to strive for a supposedly better interpretation. The critics don’t mean to dive deeper into the text so as to determine what the Bible teaches. The charge of “just your interpretation” has the opposite effect; it short-circuits the interpretative process altogether.

Note: Washington Presbyterian Church and the editors of this blog do not necessarily endorse all content produced by the individuals or groups referenced here. 

Let the Guilty Lament

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

God has been teaching me much in my study of Lamentations over the past nine months. I’ll share a short one today: one does not need to be innocent to lament.

I’ve never heard anyone claim that innocence is required for lament, but this sort of statement can be absorbed over years of selective Bible reading. Lamentations smashes that statement to bits.

In my mind, there are two obvious examples in the Bible of crying out for deliverance. The first one is King David.

David wrote a good portion of the Psalms, many while on the run from Saul or other enemies. When he asks God for deliverance, he frequently appeals to his own righteousness. Here’s an example.

The Lord judges the peoples;
judge me, O Lord, according to my righteousness
and according to the integrity that is in me. (Psalm 7:8)

David is asking for deliverance in this prayer (see Psalm 7:1), and he cites his integrity as the basis on which God should act.

The difference between righteousness and innocence is an important one; perhaps at another time and/or place. For our purposes it’s enough to note that, in this situation, David’s sin is not what got him into trouble.

The other example of crying out to God that sticks in my head is the Israelites in Egypt. God’s people pleaded with him for deliverance from slavery, and God heard them (Exodus 2:23–25). The Israelites were not a perfect people, but they were being oppressed—this is what prompted their cry.

Lamentations is different. This book of prayers arises from rebellious people who have received just judgment from God for their sin. And yet, this cry of lament is included in Scripture! Blamelessness, righteousness, status as an innocent victim—none of these are requirements to come before God in lament.

The author of Lamentations confesses that the people are guilty and have deserved God’s wrath. (See Lam 1:5, 8, 18, 22. Examples abound in chapters 2–5 of the book as well.) And yet, they still come to God. They still describe what they are experiencing and the accompanying pain and sorrow. They know they are to blame for their situation, and they still ask God to see them. They want to be remembered in their suffering, even when the blame for their suffering falls on their own shoulders.

The requests in Lamentations are sparse. In this way, these prayers are much different than psalms. We might expect multiple cries for mercy, for deliverance, for some way out of the present suffering. But there is really only one request like this, at the very end of the book: “Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored! Renew our days as of old” (Lamentations 5:21). Even this request acknowledges the guilt of the people.

God wants the guilty to come to him. To keep praying. Even when they suffer as a result of sin. I find this to be incredibly good news! Not because our sorrow or pain is easily traced back to sinful actions or desires (though occasionally that is the case), but because God is so open to our lament that we can come in any condition. Even those who are dripping with guilt, standing in the smoky ruins of a conquered Jerusalem—these believers can lament before the Lord.

This opens the gate for everyone, every last person who looks to the Lord. God will see. I am guilty; I can lament before the Lord.

The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus underline this truth. Jesus was the friend of sinners, welcoming the guilty even as he hung on the cross.

Because Jesus brings us to God (1 Pet 3:18), we can go to him, taking our praise, confession, sorrow, thanks, and lament, trusting that he hears.

Post credit | Photo credit

Six Things Lament is Not

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

As I continue to ruminate on Biblical lament, I want to clarify and develop what this practice is and what it is not. Lament is new for many people, including me, and this short post is intended to clear up confusion and reduce unhelpful caricatures.

Lament is Not Unusual

Judging by the Biblical record, lament is a common type of prayer for God’s people. Roughly one third of the Psalms contain aspects of lament, there is an entire book called Lamentations, and laments show up in other places in Scripture. The Israelites lamented their harsh treatment in Egypt (Exodus 2:23–25), Hannah lamented her barrenness (1 Samuel 1:10, 15), and Jesus lamented the rebellion in Jerusalem (Luke 13:34–35). Significantly, Jesus himself lamented on the cross (Matthew 27:46).

The existence of lament Psalms and the book of Lamentations show us that lament was not reserved for occasional, tragic events. Lament is appropriate in those drastic times, but it was also part of the ongoing, regular worship of God’s people. As those living under the weight of the curse, these portions of Scripture give us words for our groaning (Romans 8:22–23).

Lament is Not Natural

It doesn’t take much for humans to grumble against the Lord. From small frustrations and disappointments to large tragedies and sorrows, our impulse is to find fault.

When we meet hardship, our natural state is grumbling. But it takes faith to lament. While grief may be the trigger for lament, its foundation is the goodness and sovereignty of God. Bringing our anguish and mourning to God wouldn’t make sense if he weren’t listening, caring, powerful, and similarly grieving at the broken state of the world.

Lament is Not Grumbling

Lament is a difficult practice for some Christians because they’ve been told from their earliest days not to complain. They should swallow their sadness and anger, put on a happy face, and be thankful.

But this betrays an important misunderstanding. Both grumbling and lament are examples of complaining—one is prohibited in the Bible and one is not.

Lament, properly understood, is not a rebellious raised fist. Lament is a complaint on the bent knees of faith.

Lament is Not Pessimistic

I sense that some people get tired of hearing about lament. We get it, lament is important. But must you focus so much on the bad stuff?

A fair question! I hope that in my personal relationships I am not overly mournful. However, it strikes me that lament is a very natural, honest response to living in a fallen world. Just as thanksgiving should be a regular occurrence for Christians, so should lament.

Lament is not pessimistic, because while it contains complaints it does not end there. The result of lament should be hopeful trust in the Lord. Those who think lament is wallowing in sadness have an incomplete understanding of the practice.

Lament is Not UnChristian

Lament is not only an ancient Jewish practice. Rightly understood, it is an explicitly Christian one.

In addition to godly complaint, lament involves bold requests and, ultimately, trusting the Lord. As Mark Vroegop explains, Christians know that God is good and that he keeps his promises—he is trustworthy. The crucified, resurrected, and exalted Jesus is the key to Christian lament, turning honest expressions of grief into worshipful trust.

Lament is Not Forever

Certain parts of our Christian experience will continue and even grow through eternity. Fellowship, thanksgiving, and singing fall in this category.

But lament will cease. We should learn and practice it now, but one day there will be no use for lament any more.

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away. (Revelation 21:4)

There will be no more mourning or crying or pain. There will be no more curse because of sin. We will not feel the aches of loss and decay and desperation that are so much a part of our current lives. Be honest—it’s hard to imagine such an existence!

But this is the great end of lament. When we lament, what we long and pray and strive for is not just a resolution to the particular pain or grief we are feeling. Because of the great work of Jesus for us, in lament we stretch out for the end of all loss and brokenness.

Post credit | Photo credit

Learning to Embrace Tension

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

Not every story has a satisfying ending. Some clouds lack a silver lining.

Humans have a strong desire for resolution, not just in our own lives, but also for our friends and neighbors. We’re uncomfortable with the in-between, with sadness, with suffering.

Here is one more lesson that lament can offer. Lament teaches us to live with the tensions of life in a fallen world.

Lamentations 5

The end of the last chapter of Lamentations is a snapshot of the entire book.

But you, O Lord, reign forever;
your throne endures to all generations.
Why do you forget us forever,
why do you forsake us for so many days?
Restore us to yourself, O Lord, that we may be restored!
Renew our days as of old—
unless you have utterly rejected us,
and you remain exceedingly angry with us. (Lamentations 5:19–22)

I learned recently that, when copying this text, several Hebrew scribes repeated verse 21 after verse 22, presumably because they thought the book should not end on such a down note. I understand that impulse.

But I’ve grown to see that the end of Lamentations is just about the perfect ending for this book. Like lament itself, there is no resolution. There is a question—a gut-wrenching, foreboding question—hanging in the air over that last verse. Yet this very tension keeps us seeking the Lord.

Trusting, trusting

While we know how our ultimate story ends, we don’t know all the details along the way. Not every episode or chapter will be joyous or fulfilling.

Learning to live with the tension of suffering, stubborn sin, difficult relationships, and tragedies helps us to continue trusting the Lord. We need him, we cry out to him, we mourn in his presence when we feel nothing more than a puddle of pain and confusion.

If life was smooth and predictable, it would be much easier to trust in peace, stability, or even the momentum of a string of good days. It would be harder to see our need to trust the Lord.

Similarly, our prayers do not need to be wrapped up with a shiny bow. We don’t need to come to the Lord with a lesson learned or with carefully-chosen, sanctified words. It’s okay to tell God your troubles, to sit with him and ask him why (see Lam 5:20).

Back to God

Tension in our lives and in our prayers is a generous gift of God. Like the end of Lamentations, it keeps us turning back to him, relying on him. Where else could we possibly go?

A tidy plot might be the script we’d write for ourselves, but the tension God gives is closer to what we need.

Post credit | Photo credit

Lamenting Like a Christian

Posted onAuthorRyan Higginbottom

It takes no particular religious conviction to complain about the world. But lament is different. The Bible shows us how God’s people throughout time have lamented as his people.

So what does it look like to lament as a Christian? How do we bring our sorrows and pain to God in a way that is specific to followers of Jesus?

Full of Faith

Biblical lament is full of faith. Those who lament know both the character and promises of God. They know God himself. At the same time, the pain and sorrow they suffer in the world don’t line up with what they know of God.

Here is the spark in the furnace of lament for each believer: My anguish in the world doesn’t match the reality I’d expect if the God I know had fully and finally set everything right.

That gap between our knowledge of God and our experience of the world is the space for faith. We need not have watertight answers or certain solutions, but we can turn to trust the one who holds all things together, knowing he is good and wise.

Broken By the Fall

Adam and Eve were the first king and queen of God’s world, and when they fell, everything came crashing down. All the groans ever groaned can be traced back to that original sin.

To be sure, some of the sickness and tragedy on earth may result directly from sinful deeds, evidence of God’s pointed judgment. But this is incredibly hard to discern; it’s safer to say that our hardships are traceable to the general broken state of the world we inherit and in which we participate.

The reasons for lament point to the brokenness of the world, and that brokenness points to sin. It’s exactly this simple: Without sin, the world—our bodies, our relationships, our surroundings—would not be corrupted in any way.

Jesus and the Kingdom

Jesus came to bring God’s kingdom to earth. He came as the perfect human king to rule on God’s throne. And that mission of rule and reconciliation was of necessity also a mission of suffering and sacrifice.

The imperfect and frequently despicable kings of Israel and Judah pointed to the coming of an incorruptible king. When Jesus began his ministry announcing that the kingdom of God was at hand (Mark 1:15), those steeped in the Old Testament would not have reacted with confusion but relief. He’s here!

Jesus’s miracles were brief, glorious windows into the emerging kingdom of God. The blind would see, the lame would walk, and the hungry would be fed. Sickness would flee, and the dead would rise. In those flickers of restoration we saw the curse being lifted by the corner and peeled back.

As the cross came closer, many around Jesus assumed he would pursue a political path to kingship. This excited some and angered many others. But Jesus spoke of death and resurrection, not coronation. He made it clear (to those with ears to hear) that a fully realized kingdom of God on earth would happen in the future, not immediately. Yet Jesus’s unmistakable resurrection also underlined the fact that his kingdom was imminent.

Final Fullness

Lament is our longing for this full and future kingdom to come now. It is our cry with the apostle John—“Come, Lord Jesus!” (Revelation 22:20)

We want God’s kingdom to arrive in its final fullness with the rightful king on his throne. This king will bear the marks of this world in his scarred body. He himself has traveled a path of pain and agony. The bloody sweat at Gethsemane and the mournful cries on the cross bear witness to Jesus’s journey of lament.

When the end finally comes—when all hopes have been realized and the curse is no more—there will be no more need for lament. We will have our full and final comfort in the form of our strong and kind king. We will be at home and there will be no distance between our experience and our longings.

The Man of Sorrows—who bore our sin, who mourned and lamented in our place—makes our present-day lamenting possible. We lament as Christians when we cry out to God in our pain, trust him to keep his promises, and look ahead to the glorious kingdom that Jesus has secured for us.

Photo credit