Waiting for compassion

This next section of chapter 3 is the section that has struck me most profoundly. We see in these verses God’s complete goodness in the midst of what seems like utter darkness. The poetry of these verses leads us deeper into the heart of God – a God who is always and completely good, and who is always and totally still the God who reigns. That often leads us into a deep tension – and often I try to solve such tension by my theology. This poetry reminds me that such tension is woven into the fabric of our relationship with a God who is above and beyond our understanding, yet who stoops down to hold is in our sorrow and our tears.

v25-30 Goodness in the midst of darkness

Each line of verse 25 begins with the same Hebrew word – tov, meaning good. It was this word that more than any other struck me nearly 12 years ago when I had just started at Regent College as I sat in the Introduction to OT course. I had often thought of God as defined by holiness, but to see him as defined by goodness was a new concept. 

Yet it is fundamental to trusting God in the midst of bad times. If we are going to keep following God then above all else we need to believe that he is good, and seeks good for his people. Verse 25 of chapter 3 reminds us of this fundamental reality – that God is good to those who wait for him, who seek him. 

Because God is good to those who wait for him it is therefore good that we should wait quietly, in silence, for Yahweh’s salvation. There is a point in the waiting. Yahweh will save. But more than that is the final, slightly cryptic good of the last line. It is good for a man to bear the yoke in their youth. This reminds us of 3:1, where the poet describes himself as ‘the man’ who has seen affliction. Both in 3:1 and here the word used for ‘man’ is not the usual word for man, but one that is often (although not always) used for a ‘strong man’, perhaps a capable soldier. The sense therefore is of a young man in his prime enduring suffering.

Here he is reminding himself that it is good to bear the yoke. These are not easy words to hear. How can suffering be a good thing? The poet seems to be advocating a silent bearing of suffering, even while that suffering is caused by the striking and insulting of others – a teaching echoed by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount.

This need not necessarily mean passivity.  If we are suffering some kind of abuse we should go to appropriate authorities and ask for help. We should seek the justice that will enable the abuse to stop. The yoke in that situation is to be able to do that well, without seeking personal vengeance and without becoming bitter. If we are in a situation where we can do something about the source of our suffering through legitimate means then we should do so.  

That wasn’t an option for the man of this chapter in a city flatted by the Babylonians. All he could do was sit and mourn for the loss of his city, and his people. As a strong young man that must have been hard to bear – and perhaps he has had his sources of self reliance and pride stripped away, leaving only the silence of waiting for God to act.

Whatever the source of our suffering may be the poet here is reminding us that God’s goodness is not called into question by our suffering – however horrible that suffering may be. 

We may feel alone in silence, with a heavy weight on us. It may seem like our mouths are in the dust – yet there is still hope. A hope that enables us not to seek revenge on those who are attacking us, but to sit and to wait for Yahweh’s salvation. Somehow in the midst of what may be appalling personal suffering we recognise that God is still good, and that to wait for his salvation rather than working everything out for ourselves remains the best way.

v31-33 He does not afflict us from the heart

As we do that there is great encouragement to be found in v31-33. Yahweh will not cast off forever. He may bring grief, yet he will have compassion according to his steadfast love – notice those keywords again. Compassion and steadfast love. These words are the bedrock of our hope because they are the core reality of Yahweh and who he is. He may bring grief – but he does not do so willingly (he does not afflict from his heart) – and he does not grieve us (notice the subtle distinction between v32 and v33).

Yahweh’s heart is never to cause us pain. He is always working for our good. There is sorrow, and in some mysterious way Yahweh is sovereign over that too – but behind and beyond the sorrow is his desire for our good. He calls us to trust even when we cannot see, perhaps especially when we cannot see, where that good could possibly be.

It feels like that pain and sorrow comes in waves through our lives. Over and over again we are called to trust. Each new wave brings new trouble. It is hard to understand how that works. There are no theologically watertight answers to give. 

Somehow we have a God who does not willingly afflict, a God who is good for those who wait for him – yet a God who permits terrible affliction and evil to happen to each of us. That tension must be held. Evil happens to us. Evil things should never be called good. It is not good that you were bullied and humiliated. It is not good that you were abused. It is not good that you were sick. Yet God did not step off his throne when that happened. I don’t think it is right to say that God causes such things – yet he is the one who placed each star in place – and he is the one who chooses not to intervene to stop such things from happening.

Reading Lamentations places us in this tension – it gives us words to speak to the God who is still God in the midst of such tension – and who is still the God who is utterly good. While God may permit the most terrible of things he himself is still good, and he himself is not the cause of pain. That is the most fundamental thing we have to hold on to in the midst of the silence. God is good, and salvation is coming. He will put all things to rights. We don’t have to understand why some things happen. We just have to know that God does not do evil to us, and that he will judge that evil. 

Here is John Goldingay reflecting on the book of Job in the context of his wife’s illness:

Job himself never knows about chapter 1 and 2 of “his” book. So he goes through pain the same way we do. And he illustrates how the fact that we do not know what might explain our suffering, what purpose God might have in it, does not constitute the slightest suggestion that suffering has no explanation. After all Job could never have dreamt of the explanation of what happened to him.

I cannot imagine the story that makes it okay for God to have made Ann go through what she has been through. But I can imagine that there is such a story. I do not know whether we will ever know what the story is.

John Goldingay (“To the Usual Suspects”)

For the Lord will not cast off forever,
but, though he cause grief, he will have compassion
according to the abundance of his steadfast love;
for he does not afflict from his heart
or grieve the children of men.

Lamentations 3:31

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