On Nehemiah 1:4-11a

So we’ve started in Nehemiah. And we started with the truth. The hard, not-pretty truth. But it’s where we have to start.

But of course, the story doesn’t end there. It’s God’s story, right? So we go right from brokenness to healing, right?

Nope. Not even a little.

Nehemiah then writes, “When I heard these words I sat down and wept, and mourned for days, fasting and praying before the God of heaven.”

He goes on to tell us what he prayed. Here’s my paraphrase: “God, you keep your promises. We sinned. Don’t forget, though, that you said we would suffer if we sinned, but you would still have us back if we would just get back on your agenda. Let’s get to that. Today.”

And not only that, Nehemiah recalls that the promise was that God would restore God’s people, “to the place at which I [God] have chosen to establish my name.”

Several years ago, I was speaking with a woman whose nephew had suffered a tragic accident while at college that left him brain dead. As the days passed and doctors tried to fully assess his condition and his parents and family prayed and tried to process what to do, the woman told me of a hospital chaplain who visited with the family. The chaplain asked this woman, the boy’s aunt, how she was doing. She quite honestly explained she was angry at God. The chaplain’s response? That she shouldn’t be angry at God.

I literally felt my hackles getting up (I don’t know what hackles are, but they were getting up, as they say).

I’d like to see that chaplain tell that to, well, any of the writers in Scripture. Job has a careful theological reflection on being angry at God, though it can still leave many questions. But you know what the Biblical writers did? They got angry at God. Why? Because surely someone was to blame. And when you’re in the throes of pain, that’s a poor time to try to become a theologian.

Theology is important. Terribly important. It matters what we say and believe about God, partly because when push comes to shove, it’s the theology (the thinking and understanding we have of God) that we cultivate in the calm times that is refined and tried in the challenging ones. That helps us know who God is and where our hope and faith is. Well, at least it has been that way for me.

But those first few minutes, hours and days as we experience or process some significant pain or loss, we often lack the resources for disciplined theological reflection. We cry out in the same way a small child does, for our parent. And often in crying out, we lash out.

God is God. God has seen it before. Our own awesomeness, eloquence and ferocity aside, God has seen it all. God can take it. While harm can be done by carrying anger towards God, I have also seen great pain in people’s lives when they have felt they cannot be honest with God.

I think of it this way: Some marriages (indeed, this is true of any relationship) have indeed broken down because of intense fights and anger. But far, far more have broken down because one or both people stopped talking. Gave up. Were no longer willing to engage in the hard work of talking through, being honest, being gracious, and yes, even naming the pain and hurt.

It is silence, in its passive-aggressive, not-peace-but-not-war, I-don’t-care-enough-to-fight-anymore that breaks more hearts and relationships, I think, than anything.

So too with our relationship with God. It seems to me far better to cry out, even in anger, to God, than to stop talking. To be invested enough to keep a foot in the relationship.

There is a time for the important work of reflecting on the brokenness of creation, the nature of sin, the human need for God’s grace. But sometimes we just need to cry. Sometimes we just need to be angry.

And that is ok.

We just cannot stay there.

But it is where Nehemiah is today. He’s heard the truth. And he’s crying out. His words are not nearly as angry and broken towards God as some (check out Lamentations, especially chapter three, if you really want someone to just hang with you in misery).

Nehemiah’s words are, of course, true for where he’s at. And don’t forget we worship a God who meets us where we are.

So stop pretending. Stop trying to be someone you’re not. You don’t have to put on a brave or happy face. Just name where you are. Like the power of naming the brokenness, there is great power in naming where we are.

Just always remember, this is not the end point, but the beginning. It is where God comes to us. And the God who has brought us this far, will not leave us in that place.