HOLD ON TO THE 'YET' (Psalms 42-43)

This pier on the Columbia River symbolized for me

the emotions of being launched into unknowns

(An ongoing series on the 48 psalms listed as “recommended reading” for times of depression, as listed in counselor/pastor David Seamands’ book Healing for Damaged Emotions.)
Despair and hope thread through this duo of psalms, which scholars say should be read as one. Their link is the thrice-repeated refrain:

Why are you downcast, O my soul, Why so disturbed within me within me? Put your hope in God, For I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God. (42:5, 11; 43:5)

The phrase “been there, done that” rings through my heart when I read these psalms. Bible teachers say the author (attributed to Korah’s sons, who served in the tabernacle) was apparently away from his work and home, possibly north toward Mt. Hermon. He admits to crying day and night (42:3), suggesting some real physical and spiritual lows—yes, depression.  He misses his temple work, which kept him in an attitude of worship and joy (v. 4). He’s been subjected to ridicule by people who mock, “Where is your God?” (42:3, 10). Such people are ungodly, deceitful, wicked, his enemy (43:1-2).

It’s hard to live for God when your assaulted by so many negatives. He chose a picturesque simile when he compared his feelings to a deer that’s panting with thirst (42:1).

My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God? (42:2)

I know people who live in the past, in “glory years” when their skills brought approval and admiration.  But life isn’t static. There are deaths, moves, job and financial changes, family adjustments, or health crises--and if we can’t adjust to our new “normal,” we’re candidates for depression. We can’t expect to forever “meet God” in the old comfortable and maybe stale ways.

STUCK IN THE PAST

The writer opens his song pining for the “good old days”—when he led worship processions in Jerusalem. But he ends it with a vital truth: that God can be worshipped wherever we are, in new ways as He grows us spiritually. For the psalm-writer, the new place is finding God’s light and truth where God has placed the believer (43:3).

Circumstances change. People change. Churches change! Hopes are raised, hopes dashed. But the constant is God, who never changes but whose character would take more than a lifetime to discover and savor.

That’s why I latch on to the little word “yet” in these two psalms. I can rehash my troubles and questions, but at the end—in the “yet” of life—I need to come back to praising Him, claiming Him as my joy and delight (43:4).

It’s a verse worth writing out on a 3x5 card and putting where you’ll see it regularly, maybe next to your computer or the bathroom mirror:

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

Making ‘Psense’ of Psalms—Psalms 42-43: Hope

Sunset on a stormy day--photographed at Moscow, Idaho--
an appropriate visual for spiritual hope in life's dark times

Part of a continuing series on Psalms.
 “Well, they have ‘down-in-the-dumps’ right,” I reflected after reading Psalms 42 and 43. At some time, I’d probably whined my own version of the psalms’ refrain: “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? And why art thou disquieted ["disturbed" in NIV] in me?” (42:5, 11; 43:5).  I was the guest of honor at my personal pity party. Then the refrain’s conclusion grabbed me with its remedy for being down-in-the-mouth: “Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.”  The “cure” for those downcast, “poor me” times was turning attention from myself to the hope I have in the Lord. These psalms need to be read together. Indeed, in early Hebrew manuscripts (before the assignment of chapter-and-verse headings), they were linked. Attributed to the “sons of Korah” (temple musicians), there’s no historical subtitle. But the imagery and intense language transcend time as they speak to us today, particularly when we feel depressed.

THIRSTY

Psalm 42 opens with a picture of desperate thirst: “As the hart [deer] panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God.” Unlike camels, whose fatty humps help them survive long periods in desert terrain, deer must have regular access to water. I live in “high desert” with miles and miles of rocky scrublands, bisected by a life-giving river. The highway along the river is a death trap for deer trying to get to water. Despite warning signs for drivers, deer still get hit. When I see a deer carcass while traveling, I’m reminded of Psalm 42 and its truth through this image that our true spiritual survival depends on sating our thirst for “the living God” (42:2). 

Spiritual opposition can heighten our thirst. The psalmist tells of non-believers who scoff, “Where is thy God?” (42:3). Deceitful and unjust people jeer the believer (43:1). The psalmist also pines over missing the festive worship at the temple in Jerusalem (42:4). Worship in those days involved processions, dancing and singing.    

LONESOME

Some scholars think the psalm’s author may have been far away, near Mount Hermon, about a hundred miles from Jerusalem as the crow flies. Though separated from the temple worship with all its festive trappings, he found there a new way to connect with God. He refers to Hermon and a lesser hill, Mizar, plus what might be the cascading headwaters that eventually drain to the Jordan (42:6, 7).  He also senses God’s power and plan in the cycle of day and night (42:8). What we today call “natural revelation” reminds him that he can worship God even  away from the temple. Even today, people find special spiritual encouragement by simply getting away to reflect on God’s creative power.

Thinking about God’s attributes encouraged the psalmist. Embedded in both Psalms 42 and 43 are numerous names for the works and character of God. He is “the living God” (42:2, a phrase found in another yearning-for-God psalm, number 84).  He is “my God” (42:6, 11: 43:4), with the pronoun “my” indicating a personal connection to this great God of all.  He is “the LORD” (v. 8), rendered in small capitals in English Bible translations to indicate the name that Jews considered so holy that they would not speak or write it.  We know it as YHWH or “Jehovah.” The psalmist also addresses God as “God of my life” (42:8), suggesting submission.  He is “God my rock” (42:9), a solid and reliable God, a term that shows up in nearly twenty other psalms. He is “God of my strength” (43:2), the source for “keeping on.”  He is “God my exceeding joy” (43:3), who will bring me out of that “downcast” condition. 

Even before studying this psalm, I had begun a practice of meditating on the names and attributes of God.  When problems kept me awake at night, I started going through the alphabet, recalling the names of God that gave me courage and encouragement.  I considered Him as the “Almighty One,” my Burden-bearer, my Compassionate Comforter—and on and on. By “Z,” peace and sleep would usually come. The practice reminded me that God, in the fullness of his deity, is far greater than any problem I might face.

FACE-BRIGHTENER

The last part of the psalms’ thrice-repeated refrain also reminded me of God’s care in difficult experiences: “Hope in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.” One more recent translation renders this “my Savior and my God” (NIV). The idea is that the God who lifts our saddened faces to show us His profound love is indeed the One who “saves” us from this despondency.

For me, the refrain’s key word is “hope.”  The apostle Paul reminded us “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). He emphasized that life’s tribulations can lead us, in God’s plan, to hope that never disappoints (“maketh not ashamed,” Romans 5:5 in KJV).

Psalms 42 and 43 are no longer the “despondency” psalms for me.  Yes, they describe someone who is downhearted.  But the psalms’ refrains don’t leave me stuck on “downcast.”  They remind me to hang on to hope. As John Stott remarked in Favorite Psalms (Baker, ’88, ’03, p. 50): “The cure for depression is neither to look in at our grief, nor back to our past, nor round at our problems, but away and up to the living God.”

Next week: Psalm 46.

The Salve Psalms

Autumn’s dropping leaves are reminders that life includes times of loss that can leave us bewildered. I know at times I identified with the psalmist who cried out, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?” (42:5, 11; 43:5). Psalm 42’s spiritual metaphor of a deer desperate for water made sense for me, too: “My soul thirsts for God, for the living God” (42:2).  

I was drawn to these psalms when I experienced major life disruptions and turmoil with emotional and physical consequences. A man I loved rejected me. Several times I faced adjustments in moving far away from home. My parents’ months-apart deaths and resulting estate tasks overwhelmed me. Other times of despair came with a serious car wreck, care-giving ailing in-laws, and coping with the “empty nest.”

But recently, as I reflected on both psalms (which are linked in original Hebrew manuscripts), I found I’d missed how that despondent query ended with the salve of a hopeful “yet”: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.”        

The psalmist reveals several possible reasons for this downheartedness. One is spiritual opposition. Non-believers scoff, “Where is your God?” (42:3, also implied in 43:1-2). He misses familiar ways of worshipping with others (42:4). Scholars think he’s homesick—possibly displaced from Jerusalem to someplace near Mt. Hermon and the headwaters of the Jordan (42:6, 7). Yet even there he realizes that the place’s natural beauty (“deep calls to deep,” 42:7)) is nature’s music drawing him to the omnipresent God. I recalled how getting out to a place of beauty refreshed me when I felt down.

But the greater salve is embedded in the psalms’ names of God. He is “the living God” (42:2), true and able. He is the personal “my God” (42:5, 11: 43:4), He is powerful covenant God known as “the LORD” (v. 8). This name (rendered in small capitals in English Bible translations) is so holy to Jews that they will not speak or write it. We know it as YHWH or “Jehovah.” The psalmist also voices submission to “God of my life” (42:8). He prays to the solid, safe “God my rock” (42:9) and “God, my stronghold” (43:2). From his despair, he appeals to “God, my joy and my delight” (43:4). 

Even before studying this psalm, I had begun a practice of meditating on the names and attributes of God.  When problems kept me awake at night, I started going through the alphabet, recalling the names of God that gave me courage and encouragement.  I considered Him as the “Almighty One,” my Burden-bearer, my Compassionate Comforter—and on and on. By “Z,” peace and sleep would usually come. The practice reminded me that God, in the fullness of His deity, is far greater than any problem I might face.

The last part of the psalms’ thrice-repeated refrain also reminded me of God’s care in difficult experiences: “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” The King James version renders that last part, “the health of my countenance, and my God.” The idea is that the God who lifts our saddened faces to show us His profound love is indeed the One who wants to save us from this despondency. He may use medical professionals to aid us out to health.

For me, the refrain’s key word is “hope.”  The apostle Paul reminded us that “we rejoice in hope of the glory of God” (Romans 5:2). He emphasized that life’s tribulations can lead us, in God’s plan, to hope that never disappoints (5:5).

Psalms 42 and 43 are no longer the “despondency” psalms for me.  Yes, they describe someone who’s downhearted.  But the psalms’ refrains don’t leave me stuck on “downcast.”  They remind me that, in life’s spiritual autumns and winters, to hang on to hope. They assure me that it’s okay to thirst for God and seek a deeper relationship with Him. When I admit my need, He will lead me to His waters of spiritual refreshment. Thus renewed, I will again praise Him, my Savior and my God.