I don’t know about you, but it seems like every week (or day!) brings new reasons to feel unsettled. Whether it’s global conflicts, natural disasters, political drama, or the quieter struggles happening in our own homes and communities, we’re living in a season where certainty feels hard to come by.
In times like these, it can be tempting to think faith requires us to have simple answers or steady confidence. But the Bible shows us something different: a long line of people who dared to wrestle with God, to ask hard questions, and to push back when things didn’t make sense. Jacob wrestled with God through the night, refusing to let go until he received a blessing. The psalmists cried out with grief and anger. Prophets like Jeremiah and Habakkuk lamented the state of the world. Even Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, his voice trembling with sorrow. And this bold, aching honesty didn’t end in scripture. Martin Luther King Jr. poured out his fear and weariness in prayer before marching for justice. Bishop Karen Oliveto has lifted her voice for inclusion, even when silence would have been safer. These witnesses remind us that in unsettled seasons we often grow, sometimes painfully, the most.
This is what I’m calling sacred backtalk: those times when people of faith speak honestly with God and with one another, even when what they say is raw, uncertain, or challenging. It’s not about disrespect or witty comebacks. It’s about a relationship safe enough to bring our full, unfiltered selves—our grief, our doubt, our anxiety, and our frustration—into the conversation.
And here’s the thing: our voices matter. Too often, especially in uncertain seasons, we’re tempted into silence, thinking we have nothing worth saying or that our speaking up won’t make a difference. But throughout scripture and history, God not only makes room for human voices to cry out, argue, question, and hope—God also uses those voices to liberate. That matters, because in our world today, so many voices go unheard. Children, refugees, the marginalized, those affected by violence or injustice—they often cry out and are met with silence. Sacred backtalk reminds us that God hears those very voices and calls us to do the same. When we lift our voices in sacred backtalk to God, we’re practicing honesty and trust. When we lift our voices in sacred backtalk against injustice, we’re practicing courage and solidarity. Both matter. Both are holy. And both are part of how God’s liberating love takes root.
Sacred backtalk isn’t only about voicing our anger or grief. It’s also about daring to speak hope when hope seems impossible. I was reminded of that recently when I heard a song about a woman planting wildflower seeds during a season of “darkness and disease.” When asked what the point was in planting “pretty things” when the world was burning, she simply smiled and said:
The time for flowers will come again. Maybe in one year, maybe in ten. There are days despair will win, but the time for flowers will come again.
That’s the heart of sacred backtalk too: refusing to be silent in despair and finding the courage to use our voices to name a future beyond what we see right now. It’s planting words like seeds, trusting that God’s love will one day bring them into bloom.
This Sunday we’ll reflect more on sacred backtalk through the story of the Canaanite woman. For now, I invite you to wonder and reflect:
- Where do you sense the need to use your voice, even if it shakes?
- How might God be inviting you into deeper conversation—even the back-and-forth, honest and messy kind?
Sacred backtalk doesn’t solve all our uncertainty. But it reminds us that God’s love is big enough to hold all of who we are, and that faith is not silence…it’s conversation.
Want to hear the song? Check it out here.
