could change. I believe that in order to be an ethical leader, one must pay attention to caring for one’s neighbor and maintain a willingness to change when one’s ethical system no longer serves this purpose. This work necessitates being able, being willing, to cry out “O God,” while moving toward comfort with the silence that follows, knowing that sometimes these are the only words to be said.
It is both comforting and distressing to know that God’s people have cried out in great lament for thousands of years. I am comforted to be a part of a community that has this practice yet troubled to be a part of a world filled with pain requiring such lamentation. The rich Judeo-Christian tradition of lament, especially embodied in the Psalms, just might address this void of pain and grief. My mind is drawn to the opening of Psalm 22, later repeated by Jesus on the Cross, words that feel eerily similar to my own “O God.”
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;
and by night but find no rest.
Psalm 22:1-2 (NRSVUE)
In calling this psalm to mind, I can’t help but consider how many others may have lamented using these words, cried out in them on the ground upon which I then stood; those imprisoned at Auschwitz, those who have been there in the following decades, those who experienced similar horrors at other camps. The lamentations uttered over decades still seem insufficient, unable to address fully the evil that occurred. And yet, these cries are not simply lost in a void; they are heard, received, and held by God. God takes them as they are, raw and unpolished. God hears the groaning and remains with us even in the face of such evil.
* Devin Ames was a 2023 FASPE Seminary fellow. He is currently serving as a pastor of Cooperative Lutheran Ministries in the Wheeling, WV area.
A version of this piece was originally published on the Faith+Lead blog.
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