Today's text is a reworking of Psalm 44, spoken into our lives last March in a sermon during the first lockdown. But as we sit in the second lockdown with more restrictions announced, it still seems pretty relevant in naming our lament. So, Psalm 44, in our own words...
We have heard it with our own ears, O God. Our ancestors and elder saints have told us what you did in their days, in days long ago. With your hand you brought many of them from the crisis of a war-torn Europe to this new land of Canada. Through the trials of immigration, you planted them here and caused them to flourish.
And though we sometimes forget, it was not by their language skills, determination, or business sense that they survived in this land. No, it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face that accomplished it, for you loved them.
And even now, You are our King and Our God who decrees victory in Christ for your church. Through you we received an identity and an inheritance as Your people. Through You we have received provision and hope in the face of scarcity and death.
Through You these things even became tangible. A church building was erected and a congregation of your people was established in this place. Through you, we've offered our prayers, our songs, our promises, our lives. Through you our families and communities have grown and flourished as you've blessed baptisms and marriages, fed us at your table, and as you've received dearly loved saints into your arms at life's end.
And so in you, O God, we make our boast all day long, and we will praise your name forever. For you have been faithful.
But right now, it feels like you have rejected and humbled us: you have made us retreat from our church building, from each other, and from our places of work and school and security before this enemy. You have given us up, and so many others too across our city, country, and world, all to be devoured like sheep by this virus.
You have sold us into uncertainty for a pittance, gaining nothing from the sale. You have made us a reproach to our neighbors as we avoid one another in fear on the streets. You have scattered us all into isolation, away from community. We suddenly live in fear, disgrace, and loneliness all day long because of this disease, this enemy that we cannot see.
And all this came upon us, even us your church, though we had not forgotten you; we had not been false to your covenant. We are not perfect, but our hearts had not turned back; our feet had not strayed from your path. But you crushed us all the same. You covered us up with deep darkness, fear, and loneliness.
If we had forgotten the name of our God, or spread out our hands to idols—you've would've known it! You know everything! And yet with your name upon us, marked as Christians, we face death all day long; we along with the whole rest of the world right now are as good as sheep marked for slaughter.
But this is not the way it's supposed to be! Not in your Kingdom. So Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever. Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression? We are brought down to the dust; our bodies cling to the ground. Rise up and help us; rescue us because of your unfailing love. It's all we have to cling to.
That's Psalm 44, spoken into our lives last March, and spoken into our lives again today. If you were to put your lament to words like a Psalm, how would it go? Try praying it out to God today.