Lamentations 3:22-33
22 The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
24 “The LORD is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
25 The LORD is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul that seeks him.
26 It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD.
27 It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth,
28 to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it,
29 to put one’s mouth to the dust
(there may yet be hope),
30 to give one’s cheek to the smiter, and be filled with insults.
31 For the Lord will not reject forever.
32 Although he causes grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
33 for he does not willingly afflict or grieve anyone.
Psalm 30
1 I will exalt you, O LORD, because you have lifted me up
and have not let my enemies triumph over me.
2 O LORD my God, I cried out to you,
and you restored me to health.
3 You brought me up, O LORD, from the dead;
you restored my life as I was going down to the grave.
4 Sing praise to the LORD, all you faithful;
give thanks in holy remembrance.
5 God’s wrath is short; God’s favor lasts a lifetime.
Weeping spends the night, but joy comes in the morning.
6 While I felt secure, I said,
“I shall never be disturbed.
7 You, LORD, with your favor, made me as strong as the mountains.”
Then you hid your face, and I was filled with fear.
8 I cried to you, O LORD;
I pleaded with my Lord, saying,
9 “What profit is there in my blood, if I go down to the pit?
Will the dust praise you or declare your faithfulness?
10 Hear, O LORD, and have mercy upon me;
O LORD, be my helper.”
11 You have turned my wailing into dancing;
you have put off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy.
12 Therefore my heart sings to you without ceasing;
O LORD my God, I will give you thanks forever.
Mark 5:38-43
38 When they came to the house of the leader of the synagogue, he saw a commotion, people weeping and wailing loudly. 39 When he had entered, he said to them, “Why do you make a commotion and weep? The child is not dead but sleeping.” 40 And they laughed at him. Then he put them all outside, and took the child’s father and mother and those who were with him, and went in where the child was. 41 He took her by the hand and said to her, “Talitha cum,” which means, “Little girl, get up!” 42 And immediately the girl got up and began to walk about (she was twelve years of age). At this they were overcome with amazement. 43 He strictly ordered them that no one should know this, and told them to give her something to eat.
Forgive me if you know this song and by my mentioning of it you’ll now have it stuck in your head for days. “I Love You Period,” a 1992 hit by Dan Baird, has a really catchy chorus:
I love you period
And do you love me question mark
Please, please exclamation point
I want to hold you in parentheses.
I haven’t thought of that song in a long time, but as I was reading today’s text from Lamentations, it popped right on into my head. Why? Verses 26-30.
It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for one to bear the yoke in youth, to sit alone in silence when the Lord has imposed it, to put one’s mouth to the dust (there may yet be hope), to give one’s cheek to the smiter, and be filled with insults.
There may yet be hope in parentheses.
Parentheses resemble a hug, outstretched arms holding the words they contain. I want to hold you in parentheses. There may yet be hope.
This hug, this proclamation of good news, lands right in the center of some really challenging thoughts, as though the author needs to remind us (right then) that there is promise in the midst of the pain.
It is good to put one’s mouth to the dust, to give one’s cheek to the smiter, and be filled with insults.
It may very well be that the author of Lamentations is instructing us to bow in submission to God, to get down on our knees in prayer when it seems as though all hope is lost, to not allow fear of pain or derision to keep us from declaring our allegiance to God. It is good to do these things, the author contends, “for the Lord will not reject forever.”
But does the Lord reject ever?
Maybe. Maybe not. But it can certainly feel that way. It can feel as though God has abandoned us, left us to fend for ourselves. It can feel as though God’s ears are closed to our cries for help. It can feel as though we’re alone, and that no one (not even God) understands the depth of our despair.
But does our feeling something is true make it true?
Does God ever reject us?
As Christians, we view the entirety of scripture through the lens of Christ. As Lutherans, we have a particular take on this, spoken through Martin Luther: “The Bible is the cradle wherein Christ is laid.”
We cannot read these verses from Lamentations apart from what we know of Christ. Jesus gave his cheek to the smiter; Jesus was filled with insults; Jesus did not allow fear, or pain, or derision to keep him from declaring his allegiance to God. And on the cross, Jesus felt rejected by the one in whom he trusted. He cried out with a loud voice the question that surely all humanity experiences at some time or another: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Does the Lord reject forever? Does the Lord reject ever?
Through the worst that could be imagined, through hell itself, God was there. And on that first Easter morning, life burst forth from that place of death. Hope could not be contained — not by the grave, not by our justifiable doubt, not by any parentheses.
There is hope period.
There is hope, because there is Jesus. He is the eternal Word of God, the one who will undoubtedly be there at the end, and the one who has been present (creating, speaking, sustaining) from the very beginning.
It is good to put one’s mouth to the dust.
“In the day that the Lord God made the earth and the heavens…the Lord God formed man from the dust of the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life.” Our creator put their mouth to the dust, and we were brought to life. God-given life. God-inspired life.
The breath of life, the breath of God, enlivens us for lives that proclaim (even through the pain) there is hope. Period.
There is hope. God turns wailing into dancing.
There is hope. Weeping spends the night, but joy comes in the morning.
There is hope. The one we thought was dead is alive. Give her something to eat.
That may be one of my favorite moments in all of scripture. Jesus takes this little girl by her hand, restores her to life, and then commands the amazed crowd that has witnessed the miracle, “Give her something to eat.”
Journeying from death to life makes a person hungry. Hitting rock bottom and landing in the arms of the one who then lifts you to freedom, you need some ongoing nourishment. Spending the longest night weeping and then being given the gift of joy with the morning light, be fed (with something real, with something true) and start dancing.
Maybe, today, you’re the one who needs to be fed. There is a feast for you here. Maybe, today, you’re the one who can give the people around you something to eat. Because you’ve witnessed God’s faithfulness, you have a story to share, a hope-filled hug to offer.
Certainly, today, there is hope. Jesus meets us here and feeds us with his very self. The body of Christ given for you. The blood of Christ shed for you.
There is hope. Period.
Amen.