Part 2: Lament
Middleton's exegetical hypothesis suggests that we read the Abraham and Isaac story through the lens of Scripture's wisdom tradition: the Lament Psalms and the book of Job, specifically. Many are familiar with the lament tradition in Scripture, so this will only be a brief post before we spend more time in Job and Genesis. The lament tradition is essential, though, for Middleton's interpretive case.
That case begins with a most curious idea at the heart of Middleton's book. What purpose do the Lament Psalms serve? What purpose does the book of Job serve? Or the story of Abraham being willing to sacrifice Isaac? As Middleton emphasizes, Scripture is frustratingly opaque when it comes to providing any rationale for suffering in our world. It certainly showcases the prevalence of suffering, yet why we must suffer is a question Scripture never seems to address head-on. Perhaps, Middleton suggests, these psalms and stories exist to show us how to speak to/of God during life's most trying times. Maybe they show us how the wise and righteous speak to God when life is at its worst. It is an exciting hypothesis.
As Martin Bertman puts it, the lament Psalms showcase that "the Hebrew attitude towards the apparent existence of evil in the world has generally been to adopt the principle that the individual ought not to deny his own experience." The lesson seems to be that we are free to speak our truth to God in the face of suffering. Our truth may not be the whole picture, but in prayer and worship, we do not deny our experience of how suffering makes us feel.
And so, Middleton notes, "In these prayers, ancient Israelites grappled with God, complaining about their intolerable situations (often blaming God for abandoning them or even targeting them) and pleading for deliverance." Besides cursing God directly (which is more of a question in the book of Job), very little seems to be off the table regarding what can be appropriately said or volleyed at God. Working with Psalms 39 and 88, Middleton demonstrates that all sorts of speech are welcome before God.
Middleton says, "It certainly isn't 'theologically correct' to accuse God of doing evil, as this psalmist has done [Psalm 39]. This is a statement made in extremity, out of desperation. But it is not unique in the Psalter." And the Psalter is instructive for communities of faith. It is the pattern of worship and prayer passed down over generations and millennia. The Psalter is instructive regarding how we speak of God and to God.
Want to complain to God about life's miseries and sufferings? Go for it. Want to accuse God or blame God for causing them? Go for it. Want to shout and shake your fists at the sky? All above board. As Middleton concludes, "Silence about pain in our society and in the church conveys the message that God simply doesn't care about suffering. Too many churchgoers have had to suppress their pain to sing glib hymns of praise and thanksgiving, when what was really needed was closer to a primal scream of rage."
Having established that bold, accusatory language is appropriate and even a welcome part of prayer/worship, both then and now, Middleton is left with a perplexing question. Why is Abraham so silent when told to kill his son? When Abraham hears a voice asking for Isaac as a sacrifice, he doesn't complain, blame, or accuse God of anything. He remains largely silent. Why? Something is amiss.
Artwork is Blood, Sweat, and Tears by Alison Saar, 2005.