How long, O Lord, must I call for help?
But you do not listen!
“Violence is everywhere!”
I cry, but you do not come to save.
Must I forever see these evil deeds?
Why must I watch all this misery?
Wherever I look,
I see destruction and violence.
The Prophet Habakuk
One of the things I appreciate about the Bible is that there is often a brutal honesty by its writers. They let it "all hang out," sometimes to the point of embarrassment. At least, embarrassment to stoic British sensibilities. There are some things you just don't say in public. You keep things to yourself. But inside you might be screaming about injustice and wrong and heartache.
I am writing today mindful of a few friends who feel like the ancient Jewish prophet. Life is not turning out the way they had hoped. Things are going wrong: lost jobs, persistent and incurable illnesses; friends who have died suddenly; regrets over decisions made and undoable; mid-life dullness; depression.
Much is hidden, bubbling below the surface. We don't often know what our friends are facing. You can't read them on the inside. You don't know the angst behind the seemingly casual, "Yes, I'm fine. How are you?"
Many of us call out to God. It's almost instinctive. Even rational nonbelievers cry out to the universe, "Help me!" in dire situations (probably hoping no one really heard when things equalize!).
To cry out to God is comforting and hopeful. When no one human can understand my heartache, perhaps the mysterious Other can. Angst is better out than in. Anger at life, turned inward, too easily becomes depression. Like talk therapy, telling God all the hurt and pain gets it out, gives it to another. Often the situation remains the same, but your perspective changes: simply by talking it out with the Other.
I'm not speaking of the simplistic, unrealistic and untrue to life, "God answers all your prayers"—that of the "vending machine god." Put in your dollar and out pops the candy. If that is your view of prayer, you will most likely be disillusioned before long.
This is the cry of the heart, the longing for completeness, the deeply disturbed seeking for rest.
The prophet knew that prayer was no mere formula. He called and cried and beseeched and it felt like God did not hear. His situation remained unchanged. The injustice persisted. But still he cried out.
What do you do when your discover your friend is in the place of the prophet, crying out for an answer?
Certainly don't give platitudes. Don't be Job's comforters who tried to explain things. Sensitivity is needed. You don't have the answers. Simply being there is probably best. Add to that positive prayers, images, and energy. If your friend is sad picture her full of joy and laughing. Is he has lost his job, picture him in a new job, happy and fulfilled.
In our Daily Prayer for Wednesday there is a little prayer, "I pray for those with no one to pray for them." I always find this touches my heart. It's a mysterious connectedness to others. It affirms the Oneness of us all.
The truth is, in time things do equalize. The pendulum swings. Yang becomes yin and yin turns to yang. Sometimes you just have to sit it out. And how hard is that! "Just sitting it out" can be excruciatingly painful. But the tide will turn. Spring will come. Day will follow night.
+Ab. Andy