
Having grown up in western North Carolina (Rutherford County) and still having family and many friends who live there, I have been particularly attuned to the devastation caused by Hurricane Helene. Seeing the images coming out of places that I know so well has been quite jarring, to say the least. I spent a lot of time in places that have been all over the national news: Asheville, Lake Lure, Chimney Rock. Being in communication with folks in various parts of western NC, I am also keenly aware that there are many places not getting news coverage that are dealing with just as much devastation. Thankfully, my family still living in Rutherford County escaped relatively unscathed, compared to so many who did not.
When talking to folks over there, the shock and the grief are palpable. People have lost loved ones, homes, livelihoods, and more. When something like this happens, especially so close to home, we are all reminded of our own fragility and the impermanence of those things that we mistakenly thought to be permanent. We cannot be blamed for lamenting the pain and suffering wrought by natural disasters and wondering where God is in all of it.
At the same time, there have been some incredible stories about perseverance and compassion. Despite the misinformation being disseminated by some folks, people on the ground are experiencing genuine lovingkindness at the hands of FEMA, the National Guard, various relief agencies like ERD, and self-giving neighbors and volunteers.
In all of this I have found myself thinking about the Psalms of lament. These are Psalms in which the Psalmist expresses the full gamut of human emotion related to existential suffering. Perhaps the most famous one is Psalm 22, the one Jesus is said to have quoted form the cross: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”. In this and other Psalms of lament, we hear profound expressions of feeling abandoned, even by God. We Christians talk a good game, professing our faith in God’s presence, but I think most of us have found ourselves in that place of feeling utterly bereft of love and support, even God’s. The Psalms of lament give us permission to give voice to these feelings of abandonment, to cry out for a God who we may feel has left us completely to our own devices.
The Psalms of lament, however, almost always include expressions of hope and trust in God’s love and mercy. Even in moments of despair, the Psalmist calls to mind past experiences of God’s strengthening, merciful presence and expresses hope against hope that the God of love abides in the darkness. The same Psalmist that feels completely forsaken, later in the Psalm 22 says, “Yet you took me out of the womb, and kept me safe upon my mother’s breast. I have been entrusted to you ever since I was born…”
There is always that “yet”! Yet, God has always been there, and we trust that God will continue to be there; often in the loving, selfless hands of our fellow human beings who, regardless of any differences we may have, show up in our moments of loss and grief. It is not a naïve “yet” that dismisses the harsh reality of human suffering; that insists that faith must be free of lamentation. Rather it is a “yet” that openly acknowledges pain and loss while continuing to hold on to the possibility that the God of love and mercy will show up. Maybe not according to our expectations or timing, but God will show up!
Yours in Christ,
Kevin
Thank you, Kevin, for these words. I too, like many others, grieve for my former neighbors and friends in Western North Carolina. Your words bring hope! Zee Berl.