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.

Making 'Psense' of Psalms--Psalm 25: Teachable

Part of a continuing series on selected psalms.

Growing up means trying new things—and for my now-seven-month-old grandson, Josiah, that means solids like rice cereal. Title this “pfftt!”  As I care for him while his parents work, I’ve re-discovered the importance of multiple learning experiences. Feedings, books, walks, lap play and songs keep his day rolling along plus provide teachable moments.  And then there are the blessed naps! This granny sneaks onto the bed next to his crib and catches some winks, too.

 

In thinking about Psalm 25, the word “teachable” rises to the top. It’s about enemies lining our way, and God’s honor, but it’s also about how we grow up from spiritual infancy. Like many psalms, this one is subtitled simply, “of David.” It’s one of nine “acrostic” psalms (according to the Hebrew alphabet), of which Psalm 119 is the crown jewel of poetic perfection. It became a sing-able psalm in our generation, thanks to the music arrangement given the first two verses by Maranatha! Music in the 1970s. Maybe you can recall the tune, set to words of the King James version:

            Unto thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul. (repeat)
            O my God, I trust in thee:
            Let me not be afraid, let not my enemies triumph over me.

The overall message of Psalm 25 is growing spiritually through life’s hard places, whether they’re the result of our choices or from living in a sinful, fallen world. I almost wonder if David’s reference to those “who are treacherous without cause” (v. 3) stemmed from the time he almost let anger push him into treachery. The incident, recorded in 1 Samuel 25, happened during his years on the run from King Saul. He and his band of warriors supported themselves, as was the custom, by providing freelance police protection for local farmers and ranchers. One of them was Nabal, who lived out the meaning of his name: “fool.” Stingy and arrogant, Nabal wasn’t going to part with a dime for these vigilantes, and David was incensed.

As David and his crew headed to Nabal’s spread to teach him a bloody lesson, Nabal’s beautiful and wise wife, Abigail, intercepted them with food and a plea to think about how David’s anger wasn’t the best response. “Let no wrongdoing be found in you as long as you live,” she said (1 Samuel 25:28). She knew he’d been designated the next king, and he’d regret carrying out this plan. Her wisdom worked. Amazingly, Nabal suddenly died apart from David’s sword. And Abigail was taken into David’s household.

When he became king, David found himself in similar circumstances. He had enemies bent on taking down him and the nation he led. It was an overwhelming responsibility.  How could he, a mere man—albeit chosen by God—accomplish it all? Only by the help of God. Only by being teachable and learning God’s ways. Only by trusting God to keep “growing” him, taming the immature rashness as he learned to walk with God. Psalm 25 is peppered with “teach” and its synonyms: show, guide, instruct. As we’re obedient to God, as He speaks through prayer, scripture, and the teaching and counsel of godly people, that spiritual growth takes place.

Growth also requires an honest look at our sins. David knew well his failings—the “sins of my youth and my rebellious ways” (v. 7).  He asked God to “forgive my iniquity, though it is great” (v. 11). Rather than dumping us for our failures, God works with us:

            Good and upright in the LORD;
            Therefore he instructs sinners in his ways. (v. 8)
Perhaps the better word of this process is “surrender.” A young single woman I know, in her early thirties, is trusting God for everything as she ministers to at-risk children in Belize. She writes of her trust in God despite discouragement, harm and deprivation in a blog appropriately titled, “Daily Surrender.” Oswald Chambers, author of the classic My Utmost for His Highest, commented on Psalm 25: “All the blessings God brings to our lives will never take the place of our surrender to Christ.  We must let Him have His own way. God may bless us beyond all measure, but that is not a sign we are sanctified. He longs to give us more.” (1)

“Shame” is also key word for Psalm 25.  It’s used three times in the first three verses and again at the end (v. 20). In the Hebrew (bosh), it has a particular meaning that’s different from our concept of being ashamed or embarrassed about something, like our own failures. The idea is more “to be disappointed” because something proved unworthy of your trust. It’s more the idea expressed in Romans 5:5: “Hope maketh not ashamed” (KJV) or “Hope does not disappoint us” (NIV). If we walk through life trusting in God—no matter the scoffers who line the roads with their futile “designer” religions—He will vindicate us in the end. We need never be ashamed of following Christ, because all other routes to God are dead ends.

Someday, I’m hoping my infant grandson will understand that, and put his trust in Jesus as Savior. My job as “Grandma” is to represent the loving arms of God, and to pray that someday he will say, as did David, “In you I trust, O my God” (v. 1).

 

Next time: Psalm 27

(1) Oswald Chambers, Devotions for a Deeper Life (Zondervan, 1986, p. 225).