Jeremiah
15:10-21
Psalms 6, 94
Philippians 3:15-21
John 12:20-26
Psalms 6, 94
Philippians 3:15-21
John 12:20-26
In
reading the passages for today, I was struck by how dramatic the language is:
· “I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping.” (Psalm 6:6)
· “O Lord, you God of
vengeance, you God of vengeance, shine forth! Rise up, O judge of the earth;
give to the proud what they deserve! O Lord, how long shall the wicked, how
long shall the wicked exult?” (Psalm 94:1-3)
This
language seems so out of step with how we talk and write today. Admittedly, I
sometimes read the Old Testament in an overly dramatic voice akin to some of
our worst actors of the day. Clearly, the psalmists are in major pain here.
Clearly, things are going very, very wrong in the world, but in my obnoxiously
cynical way, I get hung up on the language. The authors’ pain is lost in
translation.
I
was thinking how I often purposely lose the translation in today’s painful world,
in particular every time I hear about another mass shooting. When Aurora
happened, I shook my head and I said a prayer for our nation, but I went on.
When the mall shooting happened in Oregon, I shook my head, said a prayer and
vowed never to go mall shopping so close to Christmas. Realistically, if I
allowed myself to become outraged—if I flooded my bed with tears at each one or
if I rose my fist in the air imploring God’s vengeance—I wouldn’t be able to
function.
But
when our most recent mass shooting happened in Connecticut, the pain came
through loud and clear. Like those parents, I too have a six-year-old, and the
thought of losing my son, Atticus, in a blink of an eye, the thought of the
fear and confusion those children suffered from moments before their lives were
extinguished, made me reel. One of my favorite mock newspapers, the Onion, ran
a headline that day that read: “Report: It’s Okay To Spend Rest Of Day Curled
In Fetal Position Under Desk.” That’s exactly how I felt. I was overwhelmed by the
pain.
There
is tremendous pain all around us. There are people grieving as I write this,
and today, I’m grateful not to be in their shoes. But pain is a given in this
world. We blot it out when we can. We may even mock the drama of it at times to
help ourselves cope. We allow ourselves to lose the translation so we don’t
have to face it. But when the pain comes through loud and clear, when we are
“shaking with terror” (Psalm 6:2), there is comfort in God.
“They
will fight against you, but they shall not prevail over you, for I am with you
to save you and deliver you, says the Lord.” (Jeremiah 15:20)
Susan Diemont-Conwell