She was frustrated, disappointed and angry. And she wasn’t holding it back.
Her brother had been sick, and as his condition continued to deteriorate, Martha and her sister Mary had sent a message to their friend Jesus. In a situation, which seemed to have no hope, Jesus provided hope.
They had seen Jesus do the seemingly impossible. They had seen the lame walk, the blind see, and the mute speak. He had healed Jews, Gentiles and Samaritans. And in most of the cases, they were strangers, people he had never met, and didn’t have a relationship with.
Was it too much for them to ask, that he heal his friend? Someone he had shared meals and a roof with.
The story begins in John 11:1–3 A man named Lazarus was sick. He lived in Bethany with his sisters, Mary and Martha. This is the Mary who later poured the expensive perfume on the Lord’s feet and wiped them with her hair. Her brother, Lazarus, was sick. So the two sisters sent a message to Jesus telling him, “Lord, your dear friend is very sick.”
And they waited and waited and waited and Jesus didn’t show up, and Lazarus got sicker and sicker. Surely if he couldn’t get there, he could simply speak the word and Lazarus would be healed. They had heard the story of how Jesus had healed the servant of the Roman Centurion, without ever seeing the man. He simply spoke the healing into being. And he was one of their oppressors, the enemy of Israel.
And Lazarus, got sicker, and then Lazarus died. And then, when it was too late, four days after her brother had been buried, Jesus shows up. But, by then it was too late.
She was frustrated, disappointed and angry. And she wasn’t holding it back. And maybe you’ve felt that way too — when God seemed absent, when you prayed and waited and waited, and heaven stayed silent.
And then, when she heard that Jesus was there, she stormed out of the house and we pick up the story in John 11:21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died. . .”
And Martha does what many of us long to do in the midst of grief, even if don’t actually do it, she names it. She doesn’t pretend. She doesn’t spiritualize. She laments.
Wikipedia defines Lament as: “A passionate expression of grief, often in music, poetry, or song form.”
Sometimes I feel that in our culture as a whole, and often times in our Christian communities, we do not allow enough room for lament.
Our funerals have become celebrations of life, services of remembrance and memorial services and too much display of grief, seems almost, unbecoming. And even if we don’t speak it, when someone’s grief is more than the norm, we feel that they will either embarrass themselves or embarrass others.
The first funeral I conducted at Cornerstone was for the adult daughter of a gentleman who attended our church. She had chosen to end her own life, and before the service began they had an open casket for viewing. And as the funeral director went to close the casket one of her teenage daughters threw herself onto the casket, wailing and crying. And nobody knew what to do. For many, it seemed a little unbecoming.
We remind people that their loved one is in a better place, whether that’s a reality of not, and we extend platitudes such as “their suffering is over” or “it’s for the best.” Whether that is a reality or not.
But what about when the heartbreak or disappointment is too much. What happens when the only song we can sing, is in a minor key? And frankly, most people don’t like singing in a minor key.
I like minor key songs. Hurt by Johnny Cash, Hotel California, House of the Rising Sun and A Horse with No Name were all written in a minor key.
But most of our worship songs are played in a major key, because it’s brighter and happier. And while I enjoy dark ballads, when it comes to worship music, I for one, prefer happy clappy.
Funny story, back in 2002 we had a family start attending Cornerstone, or Bedford Community Church as it was known back then, who had just moved from Santa Claira California.
The dad was a gifted musician who had played on the worship team of his church in the states, and he joined our worship team. Probably one of the most popular worship songs back then was “In Christ Alone” by Keith Getty / Stuart Townend. And it is a great triumphant song sung in a major key. Mike brought with him a new version played and sung in a minor key. I loved it but most people hated it.
And that is the way it is with lament. God has given us a song in a minor key, and we want to skip it and go right to the joyful triumphant songs. But sometimes the most faithful song we can sing is in a minor key.
And if we express our disappointment or grief as a Christian, we are often chastised for not having enough faith or not trusting God enough. We are directed to scriptures such as Romans 8:28 And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.
But what about when the platitudes are not enough and Romans 8:28 doesn’t bring us comfort?
How do we express our feelings when the grief and disappointment seem more then we can bear? What happens when we are feeling frustrated, disappointed and angry with God? Because in our mind, He could fix it and should have fixed it. Whatever it might be.
And yet, throughout the bible, we see God’s people lamenting. There is one entire book, called Lamentations, and we are told that a full 1/3 of the Psalms are Psalms of lament.
And this isn’t just people whining about life, instead biblical laments seem to follow a pattern
First there is an address to God, then a complaint, an expression of trust which is followed by a request.
Last week we finished out services at both locations with the opportunity for people to come forward to be anointed and prayed over for healing, for a variety of physical and emotional issues.
Perhaps you were one of the people who came forward, and you feel that it made a difference that you experienced an emotional or physical healing.
Or maybe you’re feeling disappointed and feel that God has let you down again. Or perhaps you didn’t come forward, because you didn’t want to be disappointed. And you aren’t sure what your response to God should be.
In 2025 Christianity is there space for us to lament? Are we allowed to express our disappointment with God, without sounding ungrateful? In his book Dark Clouds-Deep Mercy, Mark Vroegop writes, “Lament is how we bring our sorrows to God. Without lament we won’t know how to process pain. Silence, bitterness, and even anger can dominate our spiritual lives instead.”
Martha’s reaction to the appearance of Jesus and her disappointment with him, is summed up in just two verses, but those two verses follow the classic model of Biblical lament. Let’s begin with, John 11:21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, . . . “
A Lament is Addressed to Our God
David, begins Psalm 22, the same way when he writes, Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why are you so far away when I groan for help?
These words are echoed in Jesus’s Lament when he was hanging on the cross, Mark 15:34 Then at three o’clock Jesus called out with a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” which means “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?”
This is not posting something on Facebook, or TikTok, or complaining to your friends and family. A lament is directed to God.
And for some it almost sounds like a heresy or an affront to God to question him. Sometimes when we lament, we are rebuked with Paul’s words from Romans 9:20 No, don’t say that. Who are you, a mere human being, to argue with God?
But remember one of the secrets to understanding the Bible is to not just to take a verse, but to look at it in the context that it was written.
Paul was addressing those questioning the authority of God and how he displayed His grace and His judgement. Let’s go back a verse, when kind of encapsulates the full conversation, Romans 9:19 Well then, you might say, “Why does God blame people for not responding? Haven’t they simply done what he makes them do?”
And Paul continues and answers that question by saying in, Romans 9:20 No, don’t say that. Who are you, a mere human being, to argue with God? Should the thing that was created say to the one who created it, “Why have you made me like this?”
But when you call out to God in lament, it is not an argument, it is acknowledgment of your faith and your trust in God.
We are saying as David did in Psalm 55:1 Listen to my prayer, O God. Do not ignore my cry for help!
Time and time again in the lament Psalms, David begins with the words, “O my Lord”
This is our expression of faith. This is our acknowledgement of God’s character. We are disappointed, because for right or for wrong. We expected more of God.
We hear David’s frustration in Psalm 55:1 Listen to my prayer, O God. Do not ignore my cry for help!
When we cry out in lament, we find ourselves standing between the pain that we are living in and the promise God.
If we didn’t believe that God could have or should have made a difference, then we wouldn’t be crying out to him. Anyone can cry, but it takes faith to cry out to God. It’s in the midst of our hurts, that we still cling to the promise of a loving and caring God.
Lament reminds us of the things that we know and believe about God. That he loves us, and sometimes he has a plan that we may never understand or agree with. It takes faith to continue to talk to God in our season of pain.
Which leads us to the rest of Martha’s words, John 11:21 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died.”
A Lament Contains our Complaint
Remember David’s words in Psalm 22:1 My God, my God, why have you abandoned me? Why are you so far away when I groan for help? The same words echoed by Jesus on the Cross.
It’s when we cry out, “Why God? Why?” Why are I still sick? Why did my child have to die? Why have I lost my job? Why can’t I crawl out of this pit of despair?
Without a complaint, it’s not a lament.
This is a complaint, but it is not complaining. Complaining is when you think you’re the centre of the universe and think that you deserve a happy life and that nothing bad should ever happen to you and you think Jesus isn’t living up to his part of this unspoken agreement.
But when we cry out in lament, we are standing in our pain and reminding God of his promises. And that is where we find the tension.
Because we wonder, who are we to complain about God’s actions? But we stand in good company. The scriptures are full of stories of those lamenting to God about what was happening in their lives, Moses, David, Habakkuk, Jeremiah and even Jesus when he cried out, asking why God had forsaken him.
This is not complaining to other’s about how we feel that we have been slighted. Remember the lament is addressed to God. It’s how a Christian deals with the pain and their disappointment. It’s when we believe that God is good, but we don’t understand.
The Bible gives us permission to speak our troubles to God, even when they are about God.
But if we are going to bring our complaint to God, we need to understand, that He is still God and we aren’t. We can’t come demanding that he owes us healing, or good fortune. And we don’t want to get stuck in our complaints.
You all know that one person, who only complains. It never stops. They can find something to complain about in every situation.
If the only time you come to God is to complain, there is probably a deeper issue.
I mentioned earlier that 1/3 of the Psalms are Psalms of Lament, that means that 2/3 of them aren’t.
We were never meant to linger in lament. It is a starting place, not a stopping point.
Let’s keep going with the story, John 11:21-22 Martha said to Jesus, “Lord, if only you had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask.”
It’s here we discover A Lament Contains an Expression of Trust
After David calls out and questions God in the first two verses of Psalm 22, we read Psalm 22:3 Yet . . . you are holy, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
The word “yet” is pivotal. It says that even in our pain, we still believe, and we still lean into the goodness of God. Vroegop tells us that “’Yet’ marks the place in the journey where pain and belief coexist.”
Martha doesn’t use the word yet, but she comes close. She comes to Jesus and registers her complaint, “If only you had been here, my brother would not have died.” She might as well have said, “It is your fault that Lazarus is dead!”
But listen to her next words, “But even now.” This is where our faith and trust are so deeply revealed in our lament. This is when we move beyond complaining simply for the sake of complaining and testify to our trust in God.
I’m reminded of the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in the Old Testament book of Daniel. They had been taken captive when Babylon conquered Israel. They eventually went on to become servants to the King, but when they refused to bow down and worship a statue of the king, they were sentenced to death by being thrown into an enormous furnace. Does it sound familiar at all?
Let’s pick up the story in Daniel 3:16–18 Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego replied, “O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God whom we serve is able to save us. He will rescue us from your power, Your Majesty. But even if he doesn’t, we want to make it clear to you, Your Majesty, that we will never serve your gods or worship the gold statue you have set up.”
Now, if you know the story, you know that God was able to save them. But if he hadn’t, when they met God their lament would have been “O Lord. You could have delivered us from the blazing furnace, and you didn’t. And yet, we will continue to praise you.”
And Martha’s trust leads us to her request, John 11:22 But even now I know that God will give you whatever you ask.”
A Lament Contains a Request
A lament is not just a complaint and a statement of trust. Lament moves you from where you are to where you need to be.
We see this in Psalm 22:19 O LORD, do not stay far away! You are my strength; come quickly to my aid!
And when Jesus cries out to God on the cross, Luke 23:46 Then Jesus shouted, “Father, I entrust my spirit into your hands!” And with those words, he breathed his last. In that statement he was asking his Father to receive his spirit.
I love Martha’s request, because she didn’t know what she wanted, she was still trusting Jesus.
I’m pretty sure that she wasn’t asking that Jesus would raise her brother from the grave.
If we go back to our story, we read, John 11:38–39 Jesus was still angry as he arrived at the tomb, a cave with a stone rolled across its entrance. “Roll the stone aside,” Jesus told them. But Martha, the dead man’s sister, protested, “Lord, he has been dead for four days. The smell will be terrible.”
She was given what she couldn’t even wish for. She was given her brother back, but only for a season. There came a time that she either mourned her brother again, or he mourned her.
Martha’s request was grounded in her belief that ultimately Jesus was in control, and she wasn’t. She was willing to complain to Jesus, and to lean into his power, while at the same time saying even now, I will continue to trust you.
And that might be the hardest part of lament, to say “even now.”
“Maybe you’re here today and you’re stuck in a minor key season. And maybe you’ve felt like you don’t belong because everyone else seems to be singing in the major key. But I want you to know—there’s room in God’s songbook for your song too.”
I love this story, because we see ourselves in Martha. She wasn’t perfect. She was frustrated. She was disappointed. She was angry.
But she still came to Jesus. And that’s what lament really is. It’s not walking away from God in our pain; it’s walking toward Him with our pain.
And Jesus didn’t scold her for being human. He didn’t lecture her or offer her platitudes.
Instead, we read in John 11:33–35 When Jesus saw her weeping and saw the other people wailing with her, a deep anger welled up within him, and he was deeply troubled. “Where have you put him?” he asked them. They told him, “Lord, come and see.” Then Jesus wept.
Jesus entered into Martha’s grief, but he didn’t stop there, instead he had the stone in front of Lazarus’ grave rolled aside and spoke the words that Martha didn’t expect and couldn’t imagine. “Lazarus come out.” And Lazarus did just that.
But that miracle was just a preview. Because just two weeks later, outside another tomb, Jesus would step out, alive and victorious. Not only conquering death but giving us, his followers, that same assurance of eternal life.
You see, lament doesn’t mean we’ve given up on God. It means we’re holding on to Him. Even when the world around doesn’t seem to make sense. And every lament, if you follow it far enough, leads you to the empty tomb and the hope of the resurrection.
So maybe today your prayer sounds a lot like Martha’s: ‘Lord, if only you had been here… but even now…’ That’s enough.
That’s the song God can work with. That’s the kind of faith that can weep, and still trust, and still ask, and still hope. Even when the song you are singing is in a minor key.
Free PowerPoint may be available for this message, contact me at denn@cornerstonehfx.ca
