Psalm 6:3-5, 9-10

For the most part, the Psalms we encounter in Jewish prayer are psalms of praise, exclamations of joy, exhortations to sing and

make music, to thank God for the wonders of creation, for God’s splendor and for the victories God has performed for Israel

(with an occasional jab at the Psalmist’s or Israel’s enemies). The most common expressions we encounter throughout the

Psalms which are used in our Siddur (prayer book) are Halleluyah! (Let us praise God) and ki l’olam chasdo (for His mercy endures

forever). But the “religious” life is not one of continual joy, untainted by shadows or suffering. I believe that the Psalms have

endured as a kind of “prayer book” before anyone started writing down prayer books-at least as popular among Christians as

among Jews-because they reflect a full spectrum of human emotions.

We need not be afraid to express our pain, our fear, even our complaints and doubts before God-for if God knows us at all, then

surely God knows this side of us, and of our lives. We have nothing to lose by setting aside our pride and pleading with God-

This is an honest voice, hiding neither the speaker’s vulnerability nor his/her frustration with God. Some people might think

that the answer to the problem of suffering is that there really is no God and therefore we should just stop wishing for a “savior”

that does not show up. But then what happens to us in our suffering, in our longing? Do we give up, adopt a pessimistic outlook

on life, become stoics, consign our souls to spiritual loneliness?

We turn to parents, spouses, lovers, friends, community…and these are all good, healthy places to turn. But even the closest

friend or lover cannot know the depths of our nefesh…without the companionship of God, we will always experience a primal

loneliness (which helps understand the song we sing on Friday night, Yedid Nefesh, addressed to God as “Friend of my soul.”)

Just as a friend cannot solve all our problems, pay our bills, bring back our loved ones when we are in mourning, so it may seem

at times that God does not answer when we call, does not heal our sickness, relieve our suffering, or lift us out of the straits we

are in. Sometimes all a friend can do is listen. It takes faith to believe at these times that God is “listening” to us. What if we

don’t have this faith?

The tune I have “borrowed” as a setting for this psalm dates possibly back to the 12^th century. It is a dirge-tune sung on the Ninth

of Av, Eli Tzion v’areha, the refrain of which reads:

Wail, Zion and its cities,/ as a woman in labor pains,/ and like a maiden that dons sackcloth to mourn for the husband of her

youth."

Just as a woman in labor cries out involuntarily-not because her cries will necessarily bring a doctor running, but because the

body needs to cry out-so our soul, I believe, needs to cry out, whether or not we believe that there is a God who will “come

running.” And the crying, like a laboring woman’s deep breathing, just might help deliver our soul. Of course it is my hope that

somewhere in that process you will experience God’s presence, but I dare not make such glib promises…all I can do is suggest

that you take the Psalmist’s example and be unashamed to cry out.