The war in Gaza has now been raging for over 100 Days. Amid such unrelenting death and destruction is it possible to still hold onto hope? David McColl, Embrace Programmes and Partnership Manager explores how the biblical practice of lament can help Christians respond to the crisis and sustain hope.

One of the greatest challenges when confronted with the reality of war and violence is to remain hopeful. To do so is no easy task as we witness scenes of death and destruction on a daily basis and the longer it goes on, the more we struggle. Remaining hopeful, however, is vital because it is hope which sustains us in our fight against injustice. To lose hope is to enter into a state of numbness and despair which accepts injustice as the status quo and gives up the fight.

The question therefore is, how do we avoid becoming numb and sustain ourselves in the struggle for justice? The answer, I believe, is lament. In our current culture lament is rarely spoken about. It is often viewed simply as a temporary emotion that we may have when we are overwhelmed. Biblical lament, however, is something much richer. It is a gift given to us by God to sustain us in our justice work. It is not a passive emotion but an active act of resistance which functions in two ways.

To lament is to protest

While numbness turns away from the darkness in resignation that nothing can be done, lament turns towards the darkness in protest, declaring that this is not how things are meant to be or how things will continue to be. Walter Brueggemann writes that,

“Real criticism begins in the capacity to grieve because that is the most visceral announcement that things are not right…it announces that the hurt is to be taken seriously, that the hurt is not to be accepted as normal and natural but is an abnormal and unacceptable condition for humanness.”[i]

Lament is therefore not simply an emotion or a prayer but an act of resistance which exposes and resists the abnormality of that which has become accepted as normal. While the powers and principalities seek to convince us that the evil and suffering of the status quo should be accepted as a natural part of living in this world, lament pushes back against them as a public protest which declares that the suffering is to be taken seriously.

Lament is a declaration that things are not as they should be and will not always be this way. To practice lament is to refuse to accept the status quo of injustice, violence and war and instead to stand in solidarity with those who suffer. Through this, the practice of lament resists the numbness that threatens to paralyse us and sustains us in our struggle for justice. As Emmanuel Kotongole writes, ‘The cry of lament is not simply a prayer but a social ethic – a passionate, pastoral, and practical engagement on behalf of the crucified of history.’

To lament is to hope

Lament is built on the belief that a better world is possible and that things don’t have to be this way. As we lament and cry out to God we do so because we believe that children can live in peace, that war doesn’t need to be the answer to conflict, and that reconciliation is possible even on the darkest days. Importantly, this isn’t some naïve hope but a hope that is rooted in the belief of the kingdom of God coming here on earth as in heaven. It is a hope that believes that the God we cry out to is a God who is actively working to restore and reconcile all things. As we practice lament our imagination for a world transformed by God, one in which there is justice and peace, healing for the sick, love for the stranger, and in which the lion and the lamb dwell together in peace, is renewed and restored.

The practice of lament is therefore critical to sustaining us in our justice work. For this reason, Emmanuel Kotongole writes that, “Lament is not merely a cry of pain. It is a way of mourning, of protesting to, appealing to, and engaging God – and a way of acting in the midst of ruins. Lament is what sustains and carries forth Christian agency in the midst of suffering.”[ii]

So at this time in which many of us feel helpless and unsure about what we can do, may we cultivate and create rhythms of lament. In doing so, we not only push back against the darkness but also find ourselves sustained and energized to continue advocating and standing in solidarity with those who suffer deeply. And as we lament our tears baptize the things in our world that are in desperate need of restoration.

[i] Walter Brueggemann, Prophetic Imagination, p. 88.

[ii] Emmanuel Kotongole, Born from Lament: The Theology and Politics of Hope in Africa, p. 16.

A Prayer of Lament