Psalm 38
The Book of Psalms takes for granted a direct causal relationship between sin and sickness. "There is no health in my bones because of my sin" (38:3), the psalmist says, and he goes on to describes his ailment to God almost as one might to a physician (38:5-8). Only he diagnoses his illness quite differently. He is "utterly spent and crushed" because of his "foolishness" (38:5). But then, perhaps he is not far wrong considering how many of our ailments are attributable to foolishness and carelessness—smoking, drinking too much alcohol, lack of exercise. But the voice more is direct--God is angry, and therefore he suffers. Jesus pointedly rejected this belief—see John 9:1-3—nevertheless, the breaking of God's law is not without consequences for our health, as does keeping it. The psalmist also blames his sickness upon his sins—"My friends and companions stand aloof from my affliction, and my neighbors stand far off" (38:11), he
says. Perhaps—as sick people often do—in his isolation he has developed feelings of persecution. But the "bell jar" emptiness he feels is real—"I am like the deaf, I do not hear; like the mute who cannot speak" (38:13). Cut off from everyone else, he has but one companion in his misery, the LORD, who alone will answer (38:15). In his pain and isolation, he acknowledges his sin—"I confess my iniquity; I am sorry for my sin" (38:18)—and waits for deliverance. He can expect no human help-- he asserts that he has been wronged by "those who hate me wrongfully" (38:19). The psalm ends not with his healing, but with a prayer that the LORD will "make haste and help" him (38:22). His body has failed him; his friends have failed him; he has no other to give him hope.
Psalm 39
Beset by troubles, the voice of Psalm 39 tries to stay silent and not complain—he is "silent and still" (39:2). But as his distress becomes more acute, he can contain himself no longer—it is as if the fire in him must break out or consume him. It is different with our relationships to other people—there sometimes silence is golden--but words are always better than silence when it comes to our relationship to God. It is better to talk to him, whatever you say--even if your outcry is the despair and doubt of Job. And when he does speak, what the psalmist says is quite remarkable—"LORD, let me know my end, and what is the measure of my days; let me know how fleeting my life is" (39:4). He expresses his desire that God keep him mindful of how short his life is. But what he really wants is for God himself to remember that the psalmist's time is "as a mere breath" (39:5)—it is that fleeting. And in consideration of the shortness of his
life, he begs the LORD to forgive him—"Deliver me out of all my transgressions" (39:8) and "to remove your stroke from me" (39:10). After all he is only a short-term visitor on the earth—"I am your passing guest, an alien, like my forebears" (39:12)—a wanderer like Abraham and the other patriarchs. So he begs God to look away from him, turn his scrutiny from his sins, so that he may smile once again, before he departs and is no more" (39:13). A rather melancholy thought, but beautifully put!
Psalm 40
The psalmist pictures his predicament in life as a "miry bog" into which he is helplessly sinking, but then God pulls him out and sets his "feet upon a rock" (40:2). He moves from despair to hope, from doubt to faith, from sadness to joyful worship—"He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God" (40:3). (As we read them we need to always keep in mind that the psalms are not private, spoken meditations, but public praises sung in the context of temple worship.) So when the voice declares that God desires honest communication, not "sacrifice and offering" (40:6) he is making a remarkable statement in the context of temple worship where sacrifice figures so largely. Indeed the temple was a machine which functioned to turn animal lives into forgiveness. So when the psalmist says that obedience to the law is more acceptable than "burnt offering and sin offering," he is voicing quite a radical sentiment, especially in the
context that he says it. Besides sacrifice and the singing of psalms , temple worship also apparently included personal testimony—so the voice says that he has not concealed the LORD's steadfast love and his faithfulness "from the great congregation" (40:10), he is saying that he has publicly told his story. Such proclamation of God's faithfulness and salvation would have filled the place occupied in our worship by preaching. The psalmist has not contained his proclamation, and he asks the God not withhold his mercy (40:11). Aware of his sinfulness in the presence of God, conscious of the fact that he is "poor and needy," he rejoices that the LORD has taken thought of him, and prays for further help without delay (40:17).
Psalm 41
This wisdom psalm seeks an answer the question—Who is happy? That is the object of wisdom literature in the Bible—to answer that question--What makes a happy life? And the psalmist answers in quite a novel way—He says that those who are happy are the ones who "consider the poor" (41:1). In the Old Testament God is the protector of the poor—he is a parent to those who have no other support--and those who share God's concern for the needy are blessed with life, protection against their enemies, and healing . And the psalmist who is sick (41:4), beset with enemies (41:5), and alone (41:9), prays to the Lord for healing on the basis of his own generosity. And he asks--in a not very becoming way, we might say—for the opportunity to "repay " his enemies for their ungratefulness and malice (11:10). And he looks forward to God's salvation because he remembers God's mercy in the past, and how his own "integrity" has been rewarded with
blessing.
And this first part of the Book of Psalms—Psalms 1-41--ends with a benediction--"Blessed be the LORD, the God of Israel, from everlasting to everlasting. Amen and Amen." The word "amen" is the emphatic form of "May it be so!" May all the praises be heard and all the prayers be answered.
Psalm 42
Remember that all the psalms are intended for use in communal worship. It is impossible to overemphasize the importance of community in the Old Testament world. To be separated from the community and exiled from the worship of the temple is for a righteous a fate little short of death. The desire for worship in the voice of Pslam 42 is like an intense physical thirst—"My soul thirsts for God, for the living God" (42:2), he says. He gives life as water gives life. To "behold the face of God" in the context of the psalm means to experience the LORD's presence in temple worship. The psalmist remembers with intense longing the "procession to the house of God" (42:4)—and we will remember how many of psalms are liturgies designed to be sung on these occasions. He is far off. The psalmist looks to Jerusalem from a great distance. His "soul"—and by this he means not his "immortal soul" but his inner self—is "cast down within
me" (42:5). This refrain—verse 5—with its mention of hope changes the mood of the psalm. He commands himself to "man-up" and hope in the LORD. In the temple, in the community of faith he will "again praise him," the one who is his help and his God. Now his memories of that temple, which had depressed him before, offer encouragement. In the night he remembers a "song," "a prayer to the God of life" (42:8)—far from Jerusalem he recalls one of the psalms that are sung in the temple there, and he is encouraged, but not satisfied. In the midst of a hostile environment and "adversaries who taunt" him and ask him "continually, 'Where is your God?'" (42:10), he has no answer. All he can do is ask his soul—his "nephesh," in Hebrew, his inner self—why he is so "disquieted" (42:11). And the refrain found in verse 5 is repeated.
The reason that this psalm--number 42—ends in such an unsatisfactory way is that it is completed by the next one—they are, in fact, one psalm. We'll take up Psalm 43 in our reading tomorrow.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
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