As we come out of the subway tunnel, the early morning sun reflects off the Charles River. Beautiful, bright, full of hope.
While in the tunnel all is dark around us; we’re cocooned in a train seeing nothing but the darkness outside. But all that changes as we come out of the tunnel.
I walk the well-known path toward my office, facing east. The sun now shines so brightly off a building that I have to avert my eyes – it’s blinding in its intensity.
The tunnel of terror is presumably over for victims of both the mall siege in Nairobi as well as the victims in the Peshawar bombing attack on a church.
The darkness is exposed to light and light will prevail.
But there are still tunnels to go through. Tunnels of healing; tunnels of anger so thick you think you’ll never feel peace again; tunnels of despair; tunnels of revenge; tunnels of feeling you will never be safe again. Ever.
Psalm 130 in the Old Testament is part of a group of Psalms called the Songs of Ascent. These are believed to be songs sung by worshipers on the road to Jerusalem. Many of these Psalms give words that describe what it is to be in the depths of despair, followed by what it is to hope.
So for all those today who are in the tunnels, whether by your own hand, or the hand of another, here is Psalm 130:
Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord;
Lord, hear my voice.
Let your ears be attentive
to my cry for mercy.
If you, Lord, kept a record of sins,
Lord, who could stand?
But with you there is forgiveness,
so that we can, with reverence, serve you.
I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits,
and in his word I put my hope.
I wait for the Lord
more than watchmen wait for the morning,
more than watchmen wait for the morning.
Israel, put your hope in the Lord,
for with the Lord is unfailing love
and with him is full redemption.
He himself will redeem Israel
from all their sins.