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
