I am sometimes struck by the disparity between my church's hymnal and that of the Bible (the Psalms). We come together every Sunday to sing of God's unfathomable love, care, and kindness. As a body of believers, we lift up the name of God and tell the old, old story, sharing with one another through the medium of music that there is none like God. He is a Father who carefully watches over his children, and we are to delight in his name. That, according to what I hear, is the heart of worship---unadulterated joy in the presence of God.
The disparity comes in what scholars call songs of lament. They are far from rare; roughly 1/4 of the 150 psalms fall into this category. In a song of lament, the penitent will rage against God throughout the course of the song but eventually ends on a note of hope, trust, and confidence. God has pulled through (or he is about to), and all is well.
Not so with Psalm 88. Here is a man who points the finger of blame at God for all the evil that has befallen him. He counts himself as a dead man (vv. 1-9), and it's God's fault. To make matters worse, God can do nothing for the dead (vv. 10-12). That's not going to stop this man, however, from petitioning and blaming God (vv. 13-18). And the song ends. No hope. No faith. Nothing but a broken heart. And worship. The heart of the worshiper here is not full of of joy and trust concerning God---it is mired in sadness, despair, hurt, and hopelessness. It doubts the promises of God and feels that the darkness has won. God has forgotten him (or so he feels).
Granted, this is the exception rather than the rule among songs of lament, and someone may well say that we are not intended to stay in such a place. That does not, however, excuse us from examining, and dare I say perhaps living out, the implications of this psalm. Sometimes, life just beats the daylights out of us, and it seems like the enemy, the world, and maybe even God himself is set against us. He stays an arm's length from us in our distress, is deaf to our prayers, and seems to have singled us out to be an object of his wrath. Worship God, in the words of a friend, by raking him over the coals.
But surely God isn't honored by such foolishness. Shouldn't we just grow up? Shouldn't we just trust that this is "all for the best?" To allow oneself to be overcome by an emotional tidal wave reveals how shallow one's faith really is, right? So I've heard from those who know better. And sometimes their voices (always well-meaning, I must admit) drown out the wailing of the Scriptures. Sometimes, those voices demand that I not bare my broken heart in the presence of God (he might not like that, you know).
But God allows it, all the same. Why? Why would he allow such a thing? Why would he allow his children, who are supposed to love and trust him at all times, to come before him and wrench in pain at his feet all in the name of worship? Why would he allow the created to take issue with the Creator?
Because he knows that he's our only hope. Do we?
