Review: Voices of Lament: Reflections on Brokenness and Hope in a World Longing for Justice

Voices of Lament: Reflections on Brokenness and Hope in a World Longing for Justice

Edited by Natasha Sistrunk Robinson (Revell)

Lament is personal. So, it is fitting that this review will be, too.

The first page I saw when I opened Voices of Lament was the dedication page, a page usually flipped past without a second thought. Not this time. The page is labeled “In Memoriam,” and what follows are the names of nine people taken by COVID-19 in 2020 and 2021, nine family members of contributors to Voices of Lament.

Lament is personal, and the women who contributed to this work are too well-acquainted with it, living it afresh as they wrote.

Seeing that page was a sacred moment. I felt as though I was holding a holy thing in my hands. The only proper response: a holy silence.

…

Lament is not always silent, and the response to it cannot be silent always. Natasha Sistrunk Robinson makes that point powerfully clear in her introduction. She likens the more than two dozen writers—all women of color—to the “most skillful” of the “wailing women” the Lord called for through the prophet Jeremiah (Jeremiah 9:17-18). These women know lament so thoroughly that they are instructed to teach the younger women “how to wail” and lament.

The women who contributed to Voices of Lament are among the “most skillful.” They are each a powerful voice—African American, Asian American, Indian American, Native American, Hispanic, Latina, Tejana, Haitian, Nigerian and Sudanese. They are each grounded deeply in Christian faith and practice. Each one is our teacher, and I hold this book as their student.

I am learning a “theology of suffering” about “a God who is with us when we suffer, not [an American] God who [keeps] us from suffering” (p. 51). I also am being spiritually formed by the biblical exegesis and theological insight of these God-fearing, Christ-following, Spirit-empowered women.

The book is a thorough meditation on Psalm 37, one of the psalms of lament. It is divided into seven parts, one for each strophe—or section—of the psalm. Each part includes an original poem, original artwork, and at least three reflections, each of which focuses on one to two verses of Psalm 37 and ends with prayer. Many of the reflections are followed by a remembrance of a woman or women of color who played a significant role in the life of the church or the broader community.

These reflections are no puff pieces or platitudes. They are not trite or condescending. They are gritty and real. Each contributor bears testimony to the direct experience of deep pain, whether resulting from injustice, disease, fraternal betrayal or other suffering. The writers express anger, sorrow, disappointment, and also trust and hope in God.

Lament is not only personal; it is communal. We are in dark days, and we need to agree with God—through lament—that creation is broken. These women help us do this, because lament also is embodied. Part of the power of the book is the inclusion of languages other than English. This is powerful because language is the vocalized embodiment of our thoughts and emotions imbued with our culture, ethnicity, heritage, community and history. When multiple languages are shared in one place, it re-enacts Pentecost and anticipates Revelation 7:9.

Voices of Lament needs to be read, and slowly; digested, and thoroughly. No holy thing should be rushed.

And then we must do the good work of Christ until voices lament no more.

Disclosure: Mariah Humphries is a contributor to Voices of Lament and is a member of the Baptist Standard board. No incentive was exchanged to review this book.

Eric Black, executive director/publisher/editor
Baptist Standard