Aurora ... There Are No Words

I was speaking with someone on the phone the other day and I stumbled over my words as I tried to same something, ANYTHING that made sense of the shootings in Aurora. He responded by saying he did not know what to say. Neither do I.

       And yet the Bible (of all books) has something to say to the situation. One of the 66 books of the Bible is called Lamentations, as in "to lament." The Book of Lamentations has 110 verses; most of them are a stark reminder of the human condition.
       Jeremiah - that weeping prophet - recounts how God has mysteriously allowed His people to suffer so greatly. How the People of God have sinned, have been victims of circumstances, have been in bondage to invading armies. The book is just brutal in its sad realities.
       Kind of like Aurora ... and Columbine ... and Virginia Tech ... and Fort Hood.
       And then Jeremiah, in the midst of his wailing, is inspired to write these absolutely mind-blowing, heart-throbbing words:

    Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
    for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion;
    therefore I will wait for him.”

The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him,
    to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
    for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for a man to bear the yoke
    while he is young.

Let him sit alone in silence,
    for the Lord has laid it on him.
Let him bury his face in the dust
    there may yet be hope.
Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him,    and let him be filled with disgrace. (Lamentations 3:22-30)

       And then Jeremiah makes a statement that I believe is at the very heart of the gospel:

For men are not cast off by the Lord forever.
Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. (Lamentations 3:31-32)

       Where there are no words (such as in Aurora), there is THE WORD that is so well captured in Lamentations.


“How is faith to endure, O God, when you allow all this scraping and tearing on us? You have allowed rivers of blood to flow, mountains of suffering to pile up, sobs to become humanity's song--all without lifting a finger that we could see. You have allowed bonds of love beyond number to be painfully snapped. If you have not abandoned us, explain yourself.
       We strain to hear. But instead of hearing an answer we catch sight of God himself scraped and torn. Through our tears we see the tears of God.” ~ Nicholas Wolterstorff, Lament for a Son