The Prayer No One Wants To Pray

Heman the Ezrahite is my hero.

He might be the most ignored contributor to the Bible. But his perspective is also one of the most courageous, honest, and essential.

We joyfully sing of God's perfect love. Heman wonders why God has excluded him from his care.

Men often fake invincibility; he confesses he is "like a man without strength."

We want to be popular. The Ezrahite laments, "You have distanced my friends from me; you have made me repulsive to them."

We consume self-help books. He wails, "Your wrath sweeps over me; your terrors destroy me."

We like inspirational endings. Heman concludes his desperate prayer: "Darkness is my only friend."

We edit our prayers to sound pious, but he directly questions God: "Why do you reject me?"

We want quick fixes, but he bears witness to life-long pain: "From my youth, I have been suffering and near death. I suffer your horrors; I am desperate."

We want peace and comfort; he says his eyes are worn out from crying.

But because he approaches God from unfamiliar territory, it's hard for us to understand what he is saying. We often try to co-opt him for a more comfortable spirituality.

For instance, some theologians see notes of hope. I read one reflection on Psalm 88 that pointed to the hope of resurrection. The author noted that Jesus overcomes death, offering us new life. It's a reasonable biblical interpretation. Many churches read this Psalm on Good Friday. It's wise and appropriate to interpret this prayer in light of Jesus.

But remember, Heman had no comprehension that life was on the other side of death. While Jesus can comfort us, Heman felt abandoned.

Likewise, many find encouragement because Heman addresses God as the "God of his salvation" (Psalm 88:1). But the following seventeen verses of his prayer accuse God: you haven't saved me! On the contrary! You're a God of punishment and misery!

Others celebrate his persistence in prayer. But how plainly can he tell us that he sees no light at the end of the tunnel? His last words express defeat: "Darkness is my only friend." Have you ever heard a hungry dog barking through the night? The constant wailing for food isn't impressive; it's heartbreaking.

As I meditate on Psalm 88, it's hard to feel hope. The emotional tone of this prayer is angry, bitter, caustic, disappointed, exhausted, frustrated, grieving, and hopeless. From A to Z, Heman vomits his bile in God's face.

It's the prayer of a man covered in rubble, buried underground, gasping for air, writhing in pain, and waiting to die alone. Let's be candid: not everyone makes it out alive. Heman isn't sure there will ever be good times for him: not now, not ever.

At RESTORE 2023, a conference hosted by The Roys Report, I discussed this Psalm with a survivor. She had suffered greatly. With tears running down her face, she sobbed, "So lament is worship."

What happens if we try to position Heman as a strong prayer warrior? Paradoxically, perhaps unintentionally, we remove hope from those who can barely breathe, much less pray. Because it implies that you have to be impressive to talk with God.

But this harsh prayer is for the wildness of unresolved pain.

When we hate God, does he want to hear it?

When we've been betrayed by every Christian we know, is God still there?

When suffering is all-encompassing, and we know we might never feel better, can we wholeheartedly challenge God's goodness?

Or does God require us to edit our prayers? Do we need to bottle it up inside, be pious, and bite our tongues as we respectfully ask for the tiniest favors?

What is faith? Is it a commitment to God with an expectation of prosperity? Or can we honestly relate to God even when we've lost confidence that he cares?

Suffering is uncomfortable to witness. It's easier to run to good news. "Here, this will make it better." It's trying to fix a heart attack with a bandaid.

But sometimes, we need to sit in total darkness with Heman. Because if God can't or won't hear our furious prayers, how is he the God who saves? If our prayers need to be civilized, why did Jesus endure the barbarism of being whipped until he was covered in blood? If God requires us to play nice, why did Jesus suffocate to death on the cross?

I've had my journey into the valley. Heman helped me feel, in my gut, that I was not alone. And if God put Heman's prayer in the Bible, it gave me confidence that God would hear me, too.

Are you in a hopeless place?

In the depths of despair, Heman the Ezrahite shows us that we can pour out our hearts to God with unfiltered emotional honesty. God receives these bitter prayers as holy: he included Heman’s lament in the Scriptures.

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Photo by Žygimantas Dukauskas on Unsplash