There’s a relentless sadness in my soul. I wish I could shake it and be like some friends I know who seem to always express eternal optimism. Their version of faith in God seems to protect them from sadness and discontent. I am not there. Wish I could belt out the worship songs like “Good, Good Father” with conviction. But then the news of the world, the marriage break up of my neighbour, makes me choke back those words and wonder.
Perhaps it’s just me. If you’ve read my blogs you know I have an apostolic, prophetic bent. It’s an orientation that requires me to manage my perspective ‘by faith’ to ensure I don’t descend into depression or cynicism. However, in truth I am pained by the gap between what is possible and what is, between the deep (potential) reach of the gospel into systems, neighbourhoods and relationships, and the limited impact we as an organized church seem to effect on society. Perhaps my sadness comes because I am in the final phase of my career and have become jaded and cynical. Perhaps the pandemic has overwhelmed my outlook, making me incapable of sustained hope. Perhaps I am dangerously close to not giving a damn anymore. Let someone else; let another generation take up the angst and the action.
Trying to maintain hope of God’s Kingdom promises amid the brokenness and pain of this world is a tough gig. We all live in between goodness and brokenness, between hope and reality. In the middle ground is sadness and melancholy.
I remind myself that this emotion is NOT a sign of lack of trust in God. Nor is it a negative character quality. In fact, it’s an utterly human response to the gap between the promised abundant life of God’s Kingdom and the lived-in reality we face on earth. If we choose not to feel this sadness, letting it grip our soul, we either retreat into a spiritual selfishness of Christian activity & forms of expression that cocoons us from the brokenness around, or we shift into high gear as activists, believing by our good efforts we can change the world, irrespective of any divine involvement.
Could it be that God is also sad, and that our sadness at the state of our world reflects His? Could we perceive of a Creator who expresses this emotion, this unsettledness between hope and reality? Could it be that the melancholy in the middle that we experience is a sign of our being created in God’s image; a reflection of the divine in us?
One example of MANY expressions of Gods’ sadness comes via the prophet Jeremiah, who profoundly expressed the weeping heart of God. At one point God communicated through Jeremiah these sentiments: “Speak this word to them: ‘Let my eyes overflow with tears night and day without ceasing; for the virgin daughter, my people, has suffered a grievous wound, a crushing blow.’” (Jeremiah 14:17). That’s divine sadness over the gap between hope and reality. God also stays close to our own human sadness when He promises that He is “close to the broken-hearted.” (Psalm 34:18). How can God be close to someone who is broken-hearted and not feel their pain? Because our Creator feels pain.
This melancholy in the middle isn’t just an emotion. It certainly isn’t a sign of weak faith. It is the proof of the divine Spirit of God calling into your soul with the words “this shouldn’t be this way”. Then, out of that sadness Christ speaks: “There is a better Way. Show that to the world”.
Harv
PS – For an inspiring story of someone who feels this sadness, yet steps into the gap between promise and reality, listen to Father Gregory Boyle here
