I don’t know about you, but it seems like the older that I get, the more honest and forthright I become. The filter with which I was taught to cover my mouth doesn’t work as well as it once did.

For example: When any person says that gender is a binary, black and white issue, they are not just being unkind, they are being stupid!

Did I say that out loud?

And when a preacher says it, they are not just being stupid, they are being cruel. And when the President of the United States says it, they are not just being cruel, they are being wicked!

I’m just honestly telling it like it is. Sorry, not sorry.

I used to admire older people who unapologetically told it like it was, affirming their boldness by saying: “Well, at your age, you’ve earned the right to just come right out and say it!”

Now that I am older, I am thinking that it wasn’t so much that they had earned the right to lose their filter as much as they had become aware that their time on this earth was limited.

We just don’t have the time anymore to beat around the bush, to waste precious time mincing and sugar-coating our words. There’s no time to “diddle-daddle around,” as my grandmother used to say.

Or it could be that with age comes wisdom, and we realize that harsh honesty is always better than soft BS!  Speaking a truth flat-out is always better than tiptoeing around that truth, even if the truth makes those around us squirm.

This seems to be the wisdom of the writers of those Psalms we call the “Lament Psalms” which make up about one-third of all the Psalms.

I love these Psalms for their sheer honesty. They are unashamedly real. They openly speak to the reality of our pain, frankly speak to our frailty, and candidly speak of our failures. They also speak straight to the reality of the pain of our world: the plight of the poor; the despair of the displaced, the fears of the vulnerable, the evil of war, and the scourge of disease.

And they hold nothing back when they speak to the wickedness of those in power, and the injustices that ensue, economic and social.

And they speak of the reality of what sometimes seems like God’s apathy or even absence in the world.

In the tenth Psalm, we read the Psalmist honestly questioning:

Why, O Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

These psalms sometimes speak the truth of what seems like the cruelty of God. In the sixth Psalm, we read:

O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger, or discipline me in your wrath.”

Professor Walter Brueggemann writes that the Lament Psalms “break the force of denial” teaching us the importance of telling it like it is. They teach us the importance of declaring out loud that things are bad when things are bad. And they teach us to honestly say that when it comes to God, and God’s relationship with the world, even on our best days, we have our doubts.

However, that’s not our tendency, is it? Many of us were brought up to believe that any amount of crying, complaining, protesting, or lamenting means that our faith is weak, that we are being immature, “whiny little babies.” And to ever question God, well, that is simply out of the question!

However, the Lament Psalms move us in the opposite direction. They persuade us to not only tell it like it is, but to publically tell it like it is to God.

And these Psalms teach us that it this kind of truth-telling, that is the key to experiencing the hope we desperately need.

The thirty-second Psalm speaks to the danger of keeping silent:

While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long…my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.

In other words: “For fear of offending someone, I didn’t speak up, I didn’t tell the truth, and it nearly killed me!”

Psalm 6 is one of my favorite Psalms. For here the Psalmist tells it like it is to God like none other.

² Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror.
³ My soul also is struck with terror,
while you, O Lord—how long?
⁶ I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
⁷ My eyes waste away because of grief;
they grow weak because of all my foes.

 Here the Psalmist tells the truth, the whole truth, to God. There is no holding back, no pretending to be strong because others will think they are weak. There is no denial. This Psalmist keeps it very real. And notice what happens next! Look at what happens somewhere between the verses of seven and eight.

Somewhere between the verses, God shows up. Peace comes. Hope happens. Life is restored. Thus, in verse eight, the Psalmist is able to confidently proclaim:

⁸ Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
⁹ The Lord has heard my supplication;
the Lord accepts my prayer.

Now, we don’t know what exactly happened between verses seven and eight. We just know that something happened, and that something was Divine. Somewhere between the verses God breathed new life on the Psalmist. When the Psalmist told it like it was, God showed up.

Maybe God came through a still small voice, or through a wave of peace beyond their understanding. Or maybe God came through love expressed by a friend, or through a visit from a concerned neighbor. Perhaps someone cooked supper and brought it over, or simply offered a listening ear or an empathetic embrace. We just know that somewhere between the verses, God, in some inexplicable yet certain way, came.

We witness this while reading nearly every lament psalm. Whether the lament is honestly expressing personal pain, or the corporate pain of a nation. Listen once more to Psalm 10. The truth the Pslamist speaks is so real that it is still true today, 2500 years later. Listen again to the timeless lament:

2 In arrogance the wicked persecute the poor—

3 For the wicked boast of the desires of their heart,

   those greedy for gain curse and renounce the Lord.

4 In the pride of their countenance the wicked say, ‘God will not seek it out’;

   all their thoughts are, ‘There is no God.’

5 Their ways prosper at all times;

   your judgements are on high, out of their sight;

   as for their foes, they scoff at them.

6 They think in their heart, ‘We shall not be moved;

   throughout all generations we shall not meet adversity.’

7 Their mouths are filled with cursing and deceit and oppression;

   under their tongues are mischief and iniquity.

8 They sit in ambush in the villages;

   in hiding-places they murder the innocent.

Their eyes stealthily watch for the helpless;

9   they lurk in secret like a lion in its covert;

they lurk that they may seize the poor;

   they seize the poor and drag them off in their net.

10 They stoop, they crouch,

   and the helpless fall by their might.

11 They think in their heart, ‘God has forgotten,

   he has hidden his face, he will never see it.’

12 Rise up, O Lord; O God, lift up your hand;

   do not forget the oppressed.

13 Why do the wicked renounce God,

   and say in their hearts, ‘You will not call us to account’?

 And then, it is here, somewhere between verses 13 and 14, that something happens, and again, that something is Divine.

14 But you do see! Indeed, you note trouble and grief,

   that you may take it into your hands;

the helpless commit themselves to you;

   you have been the helper of the orphan.

15 Break the arm of the wicked and evildoers;

   seek out their wickedness until you find none.

16 The Lord is king for ever and ever;

   the nations shall perish from his land.

17 O Lord, you will hear the desire of the meek;

   you will strengthen their heart, you will incline your ear

18 to do justice for the orphan and the oppressed,

so that those from earth may strike terror no more.

Again, we don’t know how it happened, we just know that something happened. Somewhere between the verses, God showed up, as the Psalmist becomes convinced that God who once seemed to be blind to the injustices of the wicked does in fact see!

When the Psalmist honestly and publicly laments: This is not right. This is not fair. This is unjust. This is mean and cruel and evil and stupid. This is wicked. When the Psalmist courageously calls out injustice, calls a spade a spade, a crook a crook, despair is suddenly transformed into hope and sorrow into joy, as somehow, someway, somewhere God comes.

Perhaps someone, having listened to the cries of the powerless, courageously, unapologetically, and yet, graciously, stood up, looked the wicked ones in the eyes and honestly spoke truth to power, pleading for mercy on the behalf of the powerless, making the wicked the squirm in their pews.

Perhaps someone spoke up at a meeting of the city council, wrote a letter to the editor, or honestly corrected a misguided friend or family member who had been brainwashed by lies and misinformation.

Maybe it was something like a group of interfaith clergy who got organized, and in a sign of prophetic solidarity exchanged pulpits to honor a truth-telling prophet named Martin Luther King Jr.

Maybe this small act of solidarity grew into a mighty movement as the group of clergy, who honestly and publicly called out the injustices in the land, the evil of sick religion and the wickedness of greedy politics, began working together with their congregations to feed the hungry, to shelter the homeless, and to defend the marginalized—to stand up for the sacred value and dignity of all persons.

The courageous group of clergy never held back for fear of offending someone, for fear of losing a congregant or a big donation, as they unapologetically renounced the spiritual forces of wickedness in the land and unashamedly resisted evil, injustice, and oppression in whatever forms they took.

Then, their public faithfulness began to inspire others. People throughout the region became more aware, and more wise, knowing that they no longer had the time to diddle-daddle around with their faith. Their time was too short, and the times were too serious.

With hearts wide-open to the honest cries, to the pain, and to the needs of others, especially the most vulnerable in their midst, they understood that they must honestly and publicly take a stand and work somewhere between the verses of lament and the verses of hope, until all of God’s children are able to get those verses where they are able to confidently sing:

O God, you do see! You do hear!  And the arms of the evil doers will be broken. The Lord will seek out their wickedness until there is no more. The Lord will be king forever and ever! Justice will be done for the oppressed. And the wicked will strike terror no more!

Sorry, not sorry, Amen.