Raging against God

The city of Jerusalem has been destroyed. The people have been dragged off into slavery. This poet is wandering among the rubble, trying to make sense of it all.

And in his bewilderment, he turns to God. Or rather, he turns on God.

God has poured out His anger over Jerusalem. God has brought His people low. He has not remembered them. He has shown no pity.

He has swallowed up their houses and torn down the city walls. He has dishonoured the kings and rulers. He has withdrawn His help in battle. He has burned like a flaming fire that consumes everything around it.

God has become the enemy.

He has multiplied mourning and lamentation
for Daughter Judah.  Lamentations 2:5

He has rejected their worship traditions and priests and altars and holy places. He has handed it all over to their enemies.

The walls are crumbling. Even the walls and ramparts are lamenting.

There is nothing more to say. Nothing. It’s all God’s fault.

Like the poet, when we are suffering grief or anguish or torment, we lament. We start with the situation we’re in and then look for someone to blame. We look for reasons why this has happened, an explanation. We yearn to make sense of it.

And sometimes the only sense seems to be that God has done this, God has allowed this to happen. And why on earth would He do that?

I thought God loved me. I thought God cared for me. I thought God said He would always be with me.

So where is He now?

God must be against me.

God must hate me.

God must be punishing me.

If there is even a God at all.

And it’s OK to do this. This is completely natural. God can take it. It’s far better than covering it all up with spiritual platitudes. God wants each one of us to be honest. Completely honest. To express our anger and doubts and frustrations. To ask the difficult questions.

After my mum died, my dad kept quoting Job 1:21 –

The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.

I couldn’t do it. I just couldn’t. This verse obviously meant a lot to my dad and brought him comfort, but everything within me fought against it. I raged against the whole idea of it. Just hearing the words made me want to explode. I couldn’t accept this. It just seemed so cruel. All I was repeating over and over again was –

God, what the hell do you think you’re doing? This is all wrong. So, so wrong. You’ve got it wrong this time.

So maybe I didn’t appear very spiritual. I guess I was being human. And it is really important to acknowledge our humanity sometimes.

God can handle our humanity. Our suspicion and accusations and heartache. He knows. He understands. He can take whatever we throw at Him.