Garry spoke this morning on ‘settlers and seekers’, basing his sermon on 2 Corinthians 3:18 which talks of the daily transformation God is wanting to work in each one of us. The transformational rate of change may vary (with change being more visible early on in our Christian journey, just as the baby makes enormous changes in its first year), but God wants us to be continually becoming more like Christ throughout the whole of our lives.

The American settlers travelled far and wide in the United States, travelling across different kinds of terrains through different kinds of weather, pursuing a dream with a spirit of adventure.

They remind us of Abraham, who kept on moving, journeying with God and living like a stranger in a foreign country (see Heb 11:8-10). For so many of us, ‘home’ becomes somewhere established and settled and then we do not wish to move on, but for those who are seekers, there will always be that sense of not quite fitting in and being filled with a restlessness because we know there is so much more in God for us to discover. We may not know what that is (it’s a ‘known unknown’!), but we know God is driving us forward.

Settlers will find they may become bored, having low expectations and no sense of excitement. They have got used to the status quo and are content with it. Seekers, however, will remember what God has done but will not settle for this as the ‘ultimate’, aware that there is so much more in God to discover and experience. Is 43:16-19 reminds us that God wants to do new things. If Peter had simply lived on his experience of the Transfiguration (Mk 9:2-6), he would never have experienced God’s amazing power on the Pentecost, preached to thousands, been one of the first to take the gospel to the Gentiles or travelled beyond his wildest dreams. He did not allow his experiences of God to limit him, but these became the fuel for a further pressing on and straining forward, described by Paul in Phil 3:12-14.

The challenge facing us all is to switch from being settlers to becoming seekers, people who will press on in God, always aware that He is working to change us with ever-increasing glory into the image of Christ.

Due to a variety of computer problems, I’ve not been able to upload the photos kindly taken by Alan at the Macmillan Coffee Morning at the end of September. Hopefully, that is now resolved!

“Big boys don’t cry” is an apparently innocuous instruction to young boys which could be said to characterise the “stiff upper lip” approach of traditional British culture. It owes more to Victorian beliefs than to the Bible.

The Bible is full of tears. Even Jesus wept at the death of his friend, Lazarus (Jn 11:35) – and he knew he was going to raise him from the dead! The Psalms of Lament give us permission to cry: ‘my tears have been my food day and night, while people say to me all day long, “Where is your God?”‘ (Ps 42:3) Ps 13:2 talks of having sorrow ‘day after day.’

Suppressing and repressig emotion is a sure-fire way of inviting mental health issues into our lives; as the proverb goes, ‘he who swallows much eventually drowns’.

There has been much in the news recently about mental health issues, with Princes William and Harry talking openly about the grief and difficulties they faced over the death of their mother, Diana, when they were still children. Royalty, money, privilege – none of these things guarantee good mental health, but bringing those feelings to God and waiting before Him can be a significant contribution to recovery.

The toddler is remarkably honest in expressing his or her feelings; you always know what a toddler is feeling, whether that is joy, sorrow, pain or enthusiasm!

Whilst we may need to teach different ways of expressing those emotions to toddlers, they are perhaps closer to God than we think. Matt 18:3 reminds us of the need to become like little children; perhaps we, too, need to be unafraid of bringing our emotions to God and letting Him wrap us in His arms of everlasting love. (Ps 57:1) Perhaps we need to return, like the prodigal son, to the Father’s arms, for ‘our Father still waits and He watches down the road/ to see the crying boys come running back into His arms.’ (‘Growing Young’, Rich Mullins)

As we study the Psalms of Lament, we need to be unafraid of our negative emotions and bring these to God honestly and without fear of rejection.

Paul had strong words for the Galatian church, who seemed to be abandoning the gospel and adding to it their own rules and ideas. He spoke of the perversion of the gospel and the dangers of adding to what they had been taught (Gal 1:6-9). It’s always dangerous when we try to emphasise one doctrine above all others; frequently, what becomes heresy starts out as truth, but is then pushed to extremes, or one doctrine is given undue emphasis to the point where it leads people astray.

The emotions expressed in the psalms of lament, particularly those which are also known as the ‘imprecatory’ or ‘cursing’ psalms, are far from the calls of Jesus and His followers to love our enemies and bless those who do us wrong (see Matt 5:43-44, Luke 6:27-31, Rom 12:14,17-21, for example.) The psalmists ask God to take revenge on their enemies: ‘Strike all my enemies on the jaw; break the teeth of the wicked’ (Ps 3:7); ‘Break the arm of the wicked man; call the evildoer to account for his wickedness that would not otherwise be found out’ (Ps 10:15), for example. Such language may make us feel uncomfortable and we may feel that we cannot (or should not) pray such things ourselves. But all Scripture can teach us things, and these prayers show us we can bring every raw emotion to God. Hatred, violent thoughts and a desire to see our enemies brought low (see Ps 137:8-9 for perhaps the most violent of these imprecatory outbursts) may not be commendable, but they are real, and as such must be brought to God if they are to be dealt with appropriately.

If we pretend such emotions do not exist, wanting simply to give a sanitised view of the gospel to people, we will be guilty of preaching a diluted gospel. It is one thing to say these outbursts are right. Such a view would indeed contradict the rest of Scripture. But we have to admit that at one time or other, we have all felt righteous anger and have longed for God to deal with our enemies the way we would secretly like to deal with them! The psalmists are honest enough to speak to God from the heart, and we must too. God is well able to take our fury and our protestations and change our viewpoint, but He can do nothing if we live a life of pretence. Only as we are honest with God, putting aside our polite conventions, can we be changed by His Spirit. The psalms of lament show us a reality that balances with all the other psalms to give us a rounded perspective.

It is better, also, to bring our laments, complaints, fury and curses to God, rather than letting them loose on the world. So often, we ‘vent’ and rage to people, but it is far better, as the psalmists acknowledge, to bring their questions directly to God than to cause others to stumble. (Ps 73:15) The psalms lift the curtain on emotions we usually, for many laudable reasons, keep private. They encourage us, however, that even our most ignoble thoughts and dishonourable emotions, can be revealed to God without shocking Him or causing Him to lose faith in us. We wrestle with these things in prayer so that we can move from the place of anger and bitterness to a place of quiet confidence and trust.

None but a masochist enjoys pain; pain is something that is endured at best and is feared by most. Those who live with chronic pain due to different diseases or disabilities speak of its debilitating force, sapping energy and leaving individuals worn out and unable to enjoy even the simple pleasures of life. Physical pain can be excruciating to bear; emotional pain is no easier to endure.

Dr Paul Brand, who worked with the Leprosy Mission in India for many years, offers a different perspective on pain, however, for the deadliness of leprosy is that it destroys the pain receptors in our body which actually serve as a warning signal of danger. Lepers lose their limbs because they cannot feel the pain which would cause them to recoil as a safety measure, and so they continue to put themselves in situations of constant, though unintentional, abuse. Pain acts as a warning to us that all is not well, he affirms, and is, in that sense, helpful to us.

In this context, we see what is the best way to deal with pain, according to the psalms of lament, and this is to bring our pain directly to God. We cry to God out of the depths (Ps 130:1). We bring our physical pain to Him (Ps 38:7, 17). We bring the emotional pain to Him (Ps 88:8). We pour out our complaints directly to Him (Ps 142:2) So often, the problem of pain is not simply the pain itself, but the feelings this causes: feelings of isolation, abandonment, rejection and hurt, feelings that this pain will last for ever and God will never show mercy to us again (Ps 77:7-9). We are free, the Psalms teach us, to bring these directly to God and to allow Him to minister to us and to lift us out of the pit of peril. C. S. Lewis called pain ‘God’s megaphone to a deaf world.’ If we allow our pain to send us to God, then it can indeed serve a redemptive purpose.

65 of the 150 psalms in our Bible are designated in one way or other ‘psalms of lament.’ A lament is an expression of grief or sorrow or complaint, and synonyms include words like ‘bemoan’, ‘regret’, ‘bewail’ and ‘bawl’, not to mention ‘beat one’s breast’ or ‘eat one’s heart out.’ We may be surprised, and even a little afraid, of the fact that so many of the psalms seem to involve complaining and sorrowing. The upbeat psalms of thanksgiving are surely more inspirational than wading through verses like ‘Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?’ (Ps 10:1) and tales of woe and enemies (e.g. Ps 44:15-16).

Many of us feel that we must be resolutely positive and upbeat on all occasions. We are called to give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess 5:18) and rejoice in the Lord always (Phil 4:4), and so we reason that lament, grief, sorrow and regret are all emotions better suppressed than expressed.

The Psalmists wouldn’t agree with that interpretation at all. Every emotion, every situation, every grief and hurt are poured out before God in the Psalms, and if 43% of our prayer book consists of lament, we must not be afraid of expressing such emotions before God. The fact is that life is difficult and full of pain. Instead of fleeing from pain, seeking numbness in analgesia, we need to face up to the pain that comes from living in a fallen world, acknowledge the disappointment we feel when people let us down and when God seems strangely silent and far off and embrace true honesty, even if it stings. Far better to bring those feelings to God than to hide them away.

The Psalms of Lament often begin in despair and distress, but by a steadfast focussing on who God is and what He has done in the past tend to move towards hope and trust. Ps 22 begins with the plaintive ‘My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?’ (Ps 22:1, quoted by Jesus as He hung on the cross), but finds hope as the psalmist declares ‘those who seek the Lord will praise Him.’ (Ps 22:26) The raw honesty of these psalms not only give us permission to be brutally real and honest with God ourselves, but leads us into prayer that does not end in despair.