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Lamentations 1:1-3; October 5, 2025; World Communion Sunday

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Viktor E. Frankl, Austrian Philosopher and Holocaust survivor, once wrote: “If there is meaning in life at all, then there must be a meaning in suffering.”

While others have asked: “does there have to be?” “Isn’t it all just so meaningless, random, and pointless?” Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, left room for finding meaning. For finding hope.

There have been lots of laments recently in our lectionary. Almost as if those who assembled these texts some years ago foresaw the world we’d be living in and wanted to remind us that praying, questioning, and lamenting is the foundation of who we are as people of God.  

So, right from the start let’s not make a mistake in conflating lamenting with a lack of faith. No, let’s not do that. For laments don’t come from a shallowness of belief but rather from a spiritual depth and an outpouring of the soul.

Do you know that almost half of the book of Psalms contains laments? 60+ out of the 150 that we have. It is the most frequent genre of prayer by far.

And, today we’re reading from a book literally titled… “Lamentations!” Here then is an entire Word of God dedicated to lamenting. To capturing the cries of God’s people as they look upon what has come of their city after it’s been laid to ruin.

Laments then are biblical. Laments are practical. Laments are reasonable. Laments are faithful.

It is not a sign of weakness for you to cry. For you to ask why and admit before God that you are suffering and in need of help. Because: news flash — we all need help. And it is a faithful response to ask others and the Lord for it.

Amen? Amen.

In a post titled, “Lament Psalms for Heavy Hearts” Bruce Meyer writes: “Contrary to what some may teach, God does not tell us to “keep a stiff upper lip”, as if the expression of pain is somehow sinful. Instead, God provides us with biblical teaching designed to help us navigate the hardship.”

Indeed, God’s Word provides us with a compass. A beacon of light shining in the dark. Guiding us to where we might tie our battered boats to God’s dock, as we look for meaning in the seas of life.

And, relieving as this is, God’s Word also does not guarantee that all storms will cease. Nor that the tides will always come in the same as they went out. Nor does it ensure that our scratches and gashes can always be buffed out. At least, not in this world.

Rather, it ensures that our boats will arrive safely in Heaven’s harbor, despite deep holes in our moorings taking on water.

At our Vespers service this past Wednesday, we lit candles and searched for meaning as we wrestled with the state of the world and one of Jesus’ most philosophical statements found in Matthew 7, where he says: “Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take [this easy road]. But the gate is narrow and the road is hard that leads to life and there are few who find it.”

“The gate is narrow, and the road is hard that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

Powerful, right? Philosophical. Jesus the Great Philosopher.

Jesus is telling us that as demanding as his path is – as discipleship is – as life is – we’d be better off kicking and screaming while on it, trying to squeeze ourselves through it, rather than taking detours off it, looking for shortcuts that have no curves or viewpoints at all.

The great N. T. Wright says: “It is no part of the Christian vocation to be able to explain what’s happening and why. In fact, it is part of the Christian vocation not to be able to explain—and to lament instead.”

Isn’t that something? Another great quote today! Man, I am full of them! After all, it is World Communion Sunday, so why should you hear only from me?

And to that point, here’s another one…

 “Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened, vision cleared, ambition inspired, and success achieved.”

Anyone know who said this one? 

Helen Keller.

Profound, right?

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet…”

Unfortunately, today we have all the opportunity in the world to develop some character, for there are scarce few moments for any such ease or quiet. Too many things, and people, are just so darn loud and angry, ugly and difficult.

You want to know my most frequent lament? It’s that here we’ve been given this Goldilocks planet, in this vast universe where the chances of intelligent life seem so relatively small, and yet every day we’re just so stupidly trying to throw it away.

Instead of working with each other. Next to each other. Alongside each other. We berate, divide, and murder each other. And sadly, have done so throughout every single chapter of our history, from Cain and Abel right through our present day.

This life, this world, isn’t for the faint of heart, is it?

But you know what? Neither is this faith. Especially as it neglects to champion some bland superhero with a cheesy cape and catchphrase.

Rather, Christianity makes a case for the Messiah being a poor Palestinian Jew, who so loved the world that he went to the cross for it, lamenting “why, oh why, have you forsaken me?” all while suffering on behalf of it.

For sinners. For questioners. For lamenters. For you and for me.

And make no mistake, this was not the easy way out, my friends. God could have just like randomly poked through the clouds and been like “alright, stop that.” Magic-wanding everything so there’d be no more killing. No more suffering. And no further need for doubts and lamenting.

But then, wouldn’t we miss a profound meaning? One of the great viewpoints of life? That without the dark we could never know the light.

Or put another way, “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.” — Romans 5. 

As much as I believe that God does not want us to suffer, God’s Word yet twists and leads us through a narrow gate through tough lessons, hard parables, difficult texts and strong authentic laments… as it tries to reconcile our questions and our pain head on, quite literally, while wearing a crown of thorns.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” – John 15

Upon this table, Christ has not only heard our lament, but has sympathized with it, offering us a greater meaning in suffering, whether or not we choose to believe it.

Such that even in death, we might see there is life.

Amen.

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Benediction:

In Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings,” Frodo Baggins confesses to the wizard Gandalf — “I wish the Ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened. To which Gandalf responds: “So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.”

“I don’t think of all the misery, but of the beauty that remains.” – Anne Frank

“And therefore, I have hope: for the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, God’s mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning, great is God’s faithfulness. The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, “therefore I will hope in the Lord.” — Lamentations 3:21-24

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