First Mennonite Church
July 20, 2025
God Stands with Us in the Darkness
Text: Psalm 88; Mark 15:33-41
If Psalm 23 is not only the most familiar psalm in the Bible but also the most comforting and reassuring of the Psalms, and if Psalm 100 is the most joyous of all, Psalm 88 is the saddest psalm of all. Some believe that this psalm was born out of Israel’s exile experience. Some others see in this psalm the pain and despair of a person with leprosy (v. 8, 9). Psalm 88 is indeed a song of pure lament, and it echoes the spirit of Psalms 6, 38, and 41. Although the latter psalms are of lament and supplication for healing, there are confessions of hope as the result of their prayer to God. However, Psalm 88 does not include any sign of hope.
Many who have accompanied their loved ones go through prolonged period of illness or have experienced it themselves compare that period of ongoing illness like a low, hanging dark cloud over the family. Families with sick loved ones often feel that nothing brings them joy. Birthdays, anniversaries, and what had been other family festive occasions lose their joy and excitement.
I remember the video clip my family in Belize sent me in December of 2017 on the birthday of my sister Arsi. At that time, she was being ravaged by a metastasized breast cancer. In the video, my other sisters and their daughters were singing “happy birthday” to Arsi, but when the camera focused on Arsi, as much as she mustered to smile, her sadness was overwhelming.
It is not uncommon for those with prolonged illness to go through periods of extreme frustration, anger, or sadness. In some cases, they even feel guilty when the family refrains from doing certain things it used to do.
In my early 20s, one of my friends died. He was younger than I. I first met Jaime (Jim) at one of the youth camps I attended. He was a very happy young man. Although he did not have the support of his family, Jaime was a believer in the Lord. Sometime after I got to know Jim, I found out that he was very ill. I went to Jim’s town to visit him and his family. Laughter and crying were at the surface of our conversation. They wanted to encourage Jim and to stay positive for his sake, yet at the same time, they were overwhelmed by his helpless condition. I remember the last time I talked with Jim. That day, I was attending a retreat for pastors. Two other pastors and I took time out to take Jim to the hospital in Belize City. As we got ready to leave the retreat center, Jaime pleaded with me for an encouraging answer, “Pastor, I am not going to die, right?” He asked me. “I do not want to die. I want to be well and enjoy life like you do,” he said with tears in his eyes. That was the last conversation I had with Jaime. A few days later, his body left the hospital in a casket.
Psalm 88 is a prayer of lament of someone whose life was ebbing away. And although the psalmist gives no hint of hope, the very fact of offering his heart-wrenching lament to God in prayer is indicative of his trust in God. Thus, the psalmist pleads:
O Lord, God of my salvation,
when, at night, I cry out in your presence,
let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry.
Just like my friend Jim, the psalmist did not want to die. Whether it was because the psalmist was young, or because he believed there was more he could do if he lived longer. Whatever the reason, the very essence of his prayer shows that he wanted to stay alive.
There have been times when I have spoken to people in their deathbeds who with a deep sense of peace they tell me they are ready to die. Some have told me how grateful they are to have lived their days and to have enjoyed the love of their families. Some told me of the peace they have in their heart and the confidence they have in the Lord.
Throughout chapter 88, we find not only an incessant supplication before God but also a desperate sense of loneliness. The psalmist cries to God night (v.1) and day (v.9), every day and every morning (v.13); yet, he feels abandoned and given up on as if he were already dead (v. 4, 5, 8). He feels abandoned, not only by his close friends but by God too (v. 6, 7).
When Jesus hung on the cross and was breathing his last, he also felt the agony of death closing in on him. His cry, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” has been compared to what some people in their deathbeds often feel about their impending death. Yet we know that Jesus’ cry was because the curse of sin was weighing on him. For many who feel hopeless, insecure about the destiny of their soul, the sense of abandonment, fear, and hopelessness can make them distressed and full of anxiety when they are dying.
In light of the Psalmist’s realization that his condition was not improving, he asks God a chain of rhetorical questions. They are all about what it is possible or not possible after death.
- Do you work wonders for the dead?
- Do the shades rise up to praise you?
- Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
- or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
- Are your wonders known in the darkness,
- or your saving help in the land of forgetfulness?
Although these questions imply a “no” for an answer, what is truly amazing about the psalmist is his utter trust in praying to God. That is called faith. The psalmist seems not to have the slightest idea for his questions to be answered, yet he brought them to God. How much more should we pray? We now have clear promises in Christ as to what happens when we die. I believe the concern most dying Christian people have is not about what will happen to them after they die, but for their loved ones who are staying behind. Which, of course, should neither be the case. God’s presence will remain with them to carry them through.
The indirect question the psalmist raises is: What happens when we die? For us, that question has been answered in Christ’s resurrection. Faith in Christ has taught us that God’s will for life is greater than the reality of death.
So, in closing today, let me say that this psalm should remind us of two important realities. The first is that death is true, just as life is. Hebrews 9, verses 26 and 27, says that just as Jesus died once and for all a sacrificial death, “people are destined to die once and then face God’s judgment.” We live and will die someday. But although some have sudden deaths, many die after a long period of illness or declining health. The psalmist speaks of his sense of abandonment by God and his close companions. The reminder for us here is to visit a friend who has been ill for a while. Let us not allow that no one of our friends come to a point of feeling abandoned. Go and pay them a visit; give them a phone call, or send them a note. Remind them that you are praying for them. Let us be a reminder of God’s presence to those who are ill by visiting them.
The other important reality is that when our time to go comes, we too might like to see the faces of our friends. In their faces we will see the face of God, here quoting Jacob in Genesis.
This psalm is also a reminder that even Christians go through very difficult times of unrelenting suffering. Many faithful believers go through much tragedy, misfortune, and pain as they go through life. This Psalm is a model on how to address God in those situations. God will listen to our cries even when we might not see evidence of God answering us. We should remember Job or Paul and his thorn in the flesh, which the Lord refused to take away. We should remember Jesus and his suffering. His death on the cross did not make sense, so it is foolishness and a stumbling block to the unbeliever. At Jesus’ death, not only his closest friends abandoned him, but he also felt abandoned by God. Yet it is to God that Jesus also addressed his cry.
Despite feeling abandoned, God silently stood by the side of Job, the psalmist, and Jesus. God will silently stand by our side in our darkest hour.
Another lesson from this Psalm is that life is very short compared to eternity, yet the way we live this short time defines our eternal destiny.
May the Lord help us to trust in him in our darkest hour. May the Lord sustain our hope when we have no earthly hope of getting well. May we pray like Job,
“And after my skin has been destroyed,
yet in my flesh I will see God;
I myself will see him
with my own eyes—I, and not another.
How my heart yearns within me!”
Amen.
Pastor Romero