Monthly Archives: October 2022

Review of The English Koren Tanakh: The Magerman Edition

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The English Koren Tanakh: The Magerman Edition The Hebrew Bible in a New English Translation. Translated by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, Rabbi Tzvi Weinreb, et. al. Jerusalem: Koren Publisher, 2021

The Magerman Edition of the English Koren Tanakh is a beautifully put together volume. This translation of the Hebrew Scriptures done by Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hirsch Weinreb and several other distinguished Jewish scholars does a good job of capturing both the richness of the Hebrew language in an understandable English syntax. As a Christian reader who has some fluency in the Hebrew language it is a gift to have the loving work of this dedicated group of scholars. This is one of translations I now use when doing a close reading of a text.

One of the gifts of doing work on the scriptures that we share with our Jewish ancestors is being aware of some of the differences in form and structure between how Christian and Jewish interpreters have approached these holy books that we share. The Jewish organization of scripture divides the scripture into three sections: Torah (Genesis-Deuteronomy), Prophets (Joshua-Kings, Isaiah-Malachi excluding Daniel), and Writings (Wisdom literature, Ruth, Lamentations, Esther, Daniel, Ezra, Nehemiah, Chronicles, and Daniel).  The introductions also give several insights into how the scriptures are used in both personal devotion and corporate worship by our Jewish counterparts. The translations themselves capture balance the Hebrew syntax with English flow and readability and manage to capture the form of poetry and prose. The casual English reader will quickly realize that the names of individuals and places have been transliterated from the Hebrew rather than using the English traditional renderings of these names and places which date bank to the original English translations and are often significantly different than the Hebrew pronunciation. Even the layout of the text on the page is attractive to the eye and large enough to easily read. The maps, diagrams, and images at the end of the book are also very well done.

I’ve used several resources from Koren Publishers in the past and they have consistently been insightful and readable. I was given a copy of the Magerman Edition of the English Koren Tanakh to share an honest review of the resource and for those who are interested in a readable translation of the Hebrew Scriptures to inform their reading, devotions, and study I highly recommend this work.

Psalm 79 Words of Pain and Hope in a National Crisis

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James Tissot, The Flight of the Prisoners

Psalm 79

<A Psalm of Asaph.>

1 O God, the nations have come into your inheritance; they have defiled your holy temple; they have laid Jerusalem in ruins.
2 They have given the bodies of your servants to the birds of the air for food, the flesh of your faithful to the wild animals of the earth.
3 They have poured out their blood like water all around Jerusalem, and there was no one to bury them.
4 We have become a taunt to our neighbors, mocked and derided by those around us.
5 How long, O LORD? Will you be angry forever? Will your jealous wrath burn like fire?
6 Pour out your anger on the nations that do not know you, and on the kingdoms that do not call on your name.
7 For they have devoured Jacob and laid waste his habitation.
8 Do not remember against us the iniquities of our ancestors; let your compassion come speedily to meet us, for we are brought very low.
9 Help us, O God of our salvation, for the glory of your name; deliver us, and forgive our sins, for your name’s sake.
10 Why should the nations say, “Where is their God?” Let the avenging of the outpoured blood of your servants be known among the nations before our eyes.
11 Let the groans of the prisoners come before you; according to your great power preserve those doomed to die.
12 Return sevenfold into the bosom of our neighbors the taunts with which they taunted you, O Lord!
13 Then we your people, the flock of your pasture, will give thanks to you forever; from generation to generation we will recount your praise.

Most of the Psalms of Asaph in this section are likely written in the aftermath of the devastation of Jerusalem and the destruction of the temple by the Babylonians in 587 BCE and emerge in a space of broken dreams and deep pain. The placement of this psalm immediately after Psalm 78, with its condemnation of Northern Israel and its belief that God’s love and protection focused on Judah and the sanctuary at Mount Zion, highlights the hopes that are now in pieces after the experience of the surviving the destruction caused after a long siege. The Davidic monarchy is shattered, the temple lies in ruins, the people are being forced into exile, and the land has languished under the violence of Babylon’s campaigns against Judah. The Babylonians have defiled the things the people of Judah believed would endure forever under God’s protection. In a space of national defeat and humiliation where God’s hand has not protected them the psalmist narrates the trauma of the survivors as they walk among unburied corpses in the shattered city calling on God for a response to the violence that has been done to them.

Prophets like Jeremiah had indicated that Babylon was God’s instrument of judgment, but the Asaph who narrates this psalm may have been one of those who would have considered Jeremiah’s words dangerous at best and traitorous at worst. Jeremiah and other prophets may have warned about the failure of the people to live according to God’s covenant with them and that their trust in the Davidic king and the temple were misplaced without this covenant faithfulness. One of the gifts of scripture is bringing together multiple voices and experiences around these critical times of crisis as the individuals and the people navigate who they are and how they are to live in the face of national disaster. This psalm comes from a place of shock, anger, and grief about the plight of the people and God’s apparent lack of action on their behalf.

The psalm tries to appeal to God’s honor and glory and the ways in which Babylon’s actions have defiled that. Instead of the peoples’ inheritance or the temple of Solomon the things that are broken are God’s. The corpse of God’s servant[1] is left unburied for the birds and wild animals to scavenge and with the imagery of the blood being poured out like water it is poetically like the Babylonians in their act of war have made a mockery of the sacrificial offerings of Judah. Now Israel itself has become the sacrifice laid upon the altar of the shattered stones of the city and no one is able to begin the process of undoing this desolation. Their situation is one of devastation and disgrace. Babylon made them an example of the cost of defiance of the might of their empire so that other nations might see and respond in fear.

Yet, the devastation has not turned the psalmist from their trust in God and it is to God they cry from their anguish. There is in the psalm an awareness that it is God’s anger that has allowed the devastation to occur and there is an awareness that God is justified in his anger over the sins of the past. Yet, in the psalmist’s view, the punishment far exceeds the crime and the license extended to the Babylonians has not brought dishonor not only to Israel but to God’s name. Moses used a similar argument after the golden calf to get God to turn away from God’s wrath towards the people, and here the psalmist appeals both to the nations’ perception of the God of Israel but also to the compassion of God that demonstrated when God responded to the cries of the oppressed in the past. They ask God to open God’s hearing to the cries of the prisoner[2] and to deliver the condemned[3] and to repay their enemies sevenfold[4] for the violence they have done and the dishonor they have done to God’s name.

The psalm ends in a place of hope where the broken people will praise God from generation to generation. Most of this psalm dwells in trauma and brokenness as the psalmist cries out in anger to God asking for vengeance but it does not end there. The hurt and pain eventually turn to praise, the deep wounds of the present heal, and the anger recedes as hope emerges out of the devastation. Times of national crisis change us. In my lifetime we thankfully have not experienced the depth of disaster that the Babylonian exile would have been, but September 11, 2001, the Covid Pandemic, the uncertainty of January 6, 2020, and many other events have caused me to cry out to God asking questions and wondering about my perception of God’s action or lack of action in these moments. Times of crisis force us to ask hard questions about our beliefs and to refine them. My instructor in Hebrew Bible two decades ago, Ann Fritschel, once said that the answer to almost any historical question in reference to the Hebrew scriptures was the Babylonian exile. That event caused both a great reconsideration of what the covenant faith in the LORD the God of Israel meant and a gathering and consolidation of the stories, poems, reflections, and words of the prophets to form the scriptures to ensure the tradition could be handed down. We stand as the inheritors of these voices that have come together to reflect upon the life of faith in both times of peace and times of conflict. These words spoken in trauma yet ending in hope may give words to our anger, grief, and mourning but they may also allow us to hope for a time when healing allows us to lift our voices in praise.

[1] This is singular in Hebrew. The Septuagint and most English translations make this plural, but it probably is used here like the servant in Isaiah which may refer collectively to Israel.

[2] Again, singular in Hebrew but also is probably used as a collective to refer to Judah.

[3] Literally the ‘sons of death’.

[4] Possibly an allusion to the words of God in protection of Cain in Genesis 4:13.

Psalm 78 Telling History to Change the Future

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Grigory Mekheev, Exodus (2000) artist shared work under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0

Psalm 78

<A Maskil of Asaph.>
1 Give ear, O my people, to my teaching; incline your ears to the words of my mouth.
2 I will open my mouth in a parable; I will utter dark sayings from of old,
3 things that we have heard and known, that our ancestors have told us.
4 We will not hide them from their children; we will tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the LORD, and his might, and the wonders that he has done.
5 He established a decree in Jacob, and appointed a law in Israel, which he commanded our ancestors to teach to their children;
6 that the next generation might know them, the children yet unborn, and rise up and tell them to their children,
7 so that they should set their hope in God, and not forget the works of God, but keep his commandments;
8 and that they should not be like their ancestors, a stubborn and rebellious generation, a generation whose heart was not steadfast, whose spirit was not faithful to God.
9 The Ephraimites, armed with the bow, turned back on the day of battle.
10 They did not keep God’s covenant, but refused to walk according to his law.
11 They forgot what he had done, and the miracles that he had shown them.
12 In the sight of their ancestors he worked marvels in the land of Egypt, in the fields of Zoan.
13 He divided the sea and let them pass through it, and made the waters stand like a heap.
14 In the daytime he led them with a cloud, and all night long with a fiery light.
15 He split rocks open in the wilderness, and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.
16 He made streams come out of the rock, and caused waters to flow down like rivers.
17 Yet they sinned still more against him, rebelling against the Most High in the desert.
18 They tested God in their heart by demanding the food they craved.
19 They spoke against God, saying, “Can God spread a table in the wilderness?
20 Even though he struck the rock so that water gushed out and torrents overflowed, can he also give bread, or provide meat for his people?”
21 Therefore, when the LORD heard, he was full of rage; a fire was kindled against Jacob, his anger mounted against Israel,
22 because they had no faith in God, and did not trust his saving power.
23 Yet he commanded the skies above, and opened the doors of heaven;
24 he rained down on them manna to eat, and gave them the grain of heaven.
25 Mortals ate of the bread of angels; he sent them food in abundance.
26 He caused the east wind to blow in the heavens, and by his power he led out the south wind;
27 he rained flesh upon them like dust, winged birds like the sand of the seas;
28 he let them fall within their camp, all around their dwellings.
29 And they ate and were well filled, for he gave them what they craved.
30 But before they had satisfied their craving, while the food was still in their mouths,
31 the anger of God rose against them and he killed the strongest of them, and laid low the flower of Israel.
32 In spite of all this they still sinned; they did not believe in his wonders.
33 So he made their days vanish like a breath, and their years in terror.
34 When he killed them, they sought for him; they repented and sought God earnestly.
35 They remembered that God was their rock, the Most High God their redeemer.
36 But they flattered him with their mouths; they lied to him with their tongues.
37 Their heart was not steadfast toward him; they were not true to his covenant.
38 Yet he, being compassionate, forgave their iniquity, and did not destroy them; often he restrained his anger, and did not stir up all his wrath.
39 He remembered that they were but flesh, a wind that passes and does not come again.
40 How often they rebelled against him in the wilderness and grieved him in the desert!
41 They tested God again and again, and provoked the Holy One of Israel.
42 They did not keep in mind his power, or the day when he redeemed them from the foe;
43 when he displayed his signs in Egypt, and his miracles in the fields of Zoan.
44 He turned their rivers to blood, so that they could not drink of their streams.
45 He sent among them swarms of flies, which devoured them, and frogs, which destroyed them.
46 He gave their crops to the caterpillar, and the fruit of their labor to the locust.
47 He destroyed their vines with hail, and their sycamores with frost.
48 He gave over their cattle to the hail, and their flocks to thunderbolts.
49 He let loose on them his fierce anger, wrath, indignation, and distress, a company of destroying angels.
50 He made a path for his anger; he did not spare them from death, but gave their lives over to the plague.
51 He struck all the firstborn in Egypt, the first issue of their strength in the tents of Ham.
52 Then he led out his people like sheep, and guided them in the wilderness like a flock.
53 He led them in safety, so that they were not afraid; but the sea overwhelmed their enemies.
54 And he brought them to his holy hill, to the mountain that his right hand had won.
55 He drove out nations before them; he apportioned them for a possession and settled the tribes of Israel in their tents.
56 Yet they tested the Most High God, and rebelled against him. They did not observe his decrees,
57 but turned away and were faithless like their ancestors; they twisted like a treacherous bow.
58 For they provoked him to anger with their high places; they moved him to jealousy with their idols.
59 When God heard, he was full of wrath, and he utterly rejected Israel.
60 He abandoned his dwelling at Shiloh, the tent where he dwelt among mortals,
61 and delivered his power to captivity, his glory to the hand of the foe.
62 He gave his people to the sword, and vented his wrath on his heritage.
63 Fire devoured their young men, and their girls had no marriage song.
64 Their priests fell by the sword, and their widows made no lamentation.
65 Then the Lord awoke as from sleep, like a warrior shouting because of wine.
66 He put his adversaries to rout; he put them to everlasting disgrace.
67 He rejected the tent of Joseph, he did not choose the tribe of Ephraim;
68 but he chose the tribe of Judah, Mount Zion, which he loves.
69 He built his sanctuary like the high heavens, like the earth, which he has founded forever.
70 He chose his servant David, and took him from the sheepfolds;
71 from tending the nursing ewes he brought him to be the shepherd of his people Jacob, of Israel, his inheritance.
72 With upright heart he tended them, and guided them with skillful hand.

We narrate the story of our past to attempt to understand our present reality, and yet our narrations of the past are always shaped by our present experiences and questions. Psalm seventy-eight is a long narration of the rebellion of the people in the wilderness and God’s judgment of Egypt to force the release of the people of Israel. Yet, the narration is told not merely to relay historical information but to point to the impact of Israel’s failure to keep the covenant (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 623) Within this historical retelling it focuses on God’s wrath as it is shown towards Israel even after God’s gracious action to deliver them from slavery and to provide food and water in the wilderness. God’s exercise of power for deliverance and provision does not seem to compel the people to obedience and it is only God’s wrath appears that the people change their ways and sought God’s ways. Martin Luther referred to God’s wrath as God’s alien work which reflects the belief that God is fundamentally gracious, but that disobedience provokes this alien expression of punishment or wrath from God. Living much of my life in Texas or the southeastern United States I have always wondered why so many people were drawn to churches that focused on God’s judgment and wrath which articulated clear but rigid definitions of insiders and outsiders having been raised and formed in a tradition that focused heavily on the grace of God, but perhaps for some the God of judgment is more comforting and the rigid boundaries are comfortable. Yet, the God presented by the Bible is both gracious and demanding. God hears the cries of the people and is roused to deliver them, but this same God who is the mighty warrior who delivers refuses to be taken for granted. The narration of the central story of the people of Israel, perhaps in a time where a portion of that people has fallen away, with an emphasis on obedience is to bring about fidelity to God and God’s covenant.

There is no scholarly consensus on the historical background of this psalm, but my suspicion is that it is probably written sometime after the fall of the northern kingdom in 722 BCE but prior to the Babylonian exile in 586 BCE. There are several pointed phrases about Ephraim, Shiloh, and Israel which indicate a perspective of the kingdom of Judah and there is an indication of a disaster in the northern kingdom which seems to be one more example of God’s judgment upon the unfaithful ones in the view of the psalmist.[1] Narrating the ancient and perhaps recent past to learn from it is one of the reasons for revisiting the memories of the people. We live in a world where the written scriptures are readily available, but in a world where the written word is painstakingly handed on and typically only available to priests or royalty this psalm may have been an important way of impressing the historical memory on the current and future generations.

The memory of the past is recited to the community to help it learn how to properly relate to its God. As Walter Brueggemann and William Bellinger can memorably state, “In the recital of memory there is hope for the future.” (Brueggemann, 2014, p. 340) The initial eleven verses are a call to listen and sets the expectations for the hearers to, “not be like their ancestors, a stubborn and rebellious generation…they did not keep the covenant, and they refused to walk according to his teaching:” (8,10) Ephraim, synonymous with the northern kingdom of Israel, is highlighted as being turned back in battle and as mentioned above this may suggest a situation after the conquest of Israel by the Assyrians. Recent events may set the backdrop for the hearing of this examination of the disobedience of the people during the Exodus.

There are two major narrations of the past in this psalm. Both share a common pattern of narrating God’s gracious act, a rebellion by the people, God’s response in anger to the disobedience of the people and a summary of the section. (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 623) In the first section verses twelve through sixteen narrate God’s action to deliver the people from Egypt, pass them through the sea, lead them in the wilderness, and provide water in the wilderness. Yet, the response of the people in verses seventeen through twenty is to speak against God and to question God’s provision. Their lack of trust or gratitude provokes God and many of the strongest of the people die in this time. Yet, when God responds in judgment they seek him but even this seeking is halfhearted. Their words are deceitful, and their actions do not hold fast to the covenant God placed before them. Yet, God’s compassion restrains God’s wrath even though their actions cause God grief.

The second narration begins in verse forty-three looking back to God’s actions to bring the people out of Egypt. This second narration looks in amazement at all the actions God did in comparison to the continual rebellion of the people. There are some differences between the narration in Exodus 7-11 and the remembrance here, but it is clear they are pointing to a common memory. Yet, in the psalm time begins to compress as the hearers are moved from God’s action to deliver the people from Egypt, lead them through the wilderness and into the promised land seems to move to a more recent judgment beginning in verse fifty-six. The central focus of the judgment seems to be on the northern kingdom of Israel which is rejected with its holy place at Shiloh abandoned by God. God’s arousal from sleep liberates Judah, but Ephraim (northern Israel) is rejected. The psalm ends with Judah being delivered by God and cared for by David (and the Davidic line). Yet, just like Ephraim and the northern kingdom, Judah’s position is due to the gracious provision of God but carries the expectation to live within the covenant. The psalmist encourages the people to choose the way of faithfulness instead of the disobedient and stubborn ways of their ancestors and their brothers in the north.

The bible narrates a theological interpretation of history which focuses on the interaction between God and the people of God. Interpreters of scripture in both Jewish and Christian traditions have seen within the scriptures a witness to a tension within a God who desires to be gracious but whose people only seem to respond to punishment or wrath. In Beth Tanner’s words this psalm,

tells of God’s great passion for humans, even when those humans turn away. It also tells the sad story of human determination to ignore the good gifts of God and to remember God only when the way becomes hard or violent. (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 625)

God’s anger and wrath may be, to use Luther’s term, God’s alien work but the God of scripture refuses to be taken for granted. God is jealous for the people’s attention and allegiance and when the people turn away from God’s gifts God responds. I tell my congregation that “God wants to meet you in grace and love and peace, but if you can only hear God in judgment God will meet you there even though it creates a struggle within God.” We still come together and remember these stories to learn from the wisdom and the struggles of our ancestors in faith, to seek God in grace, to live in obedience and faithfulness but also to attempt to interpret our world in light of God’s gifts and God’s discipline. This may be harder in our very secular world but just as we attempt to learn from our more recent history, we listen to the narration of the psalmist to the memory of the people and learn from their life with God under grace and under judgment.

[1] See for example verses 9, 56-64, and 67

Review of the Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

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Time Magazine Top 100 Novels
Book 14: The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood

This is a series of reflections reading through Time Magazine’s top 100 novels as selected by Lev Grossman and Richard Lacayo published since 1923 (when Time magazine was founded). For me this is an attempt to broaden my exposure to authors I may not encounter otherwise, especially as a person who was not a liberal arts major in college. Time’s list is alphabetical, so I decided to read through in a random order, and I plan to write a short reflection on each novel.

The Blind Assassin is a story within a story narrated in flashback by Iris Chase Griffen. Looking back as an old woman she remembers her time growing up with her sister Laura in household whose father shattered by World War I and the economic downturn of the 1930s and whose mother died while both girls were still young. Their father, Norval Chase, runs the Button Factory in the fictional town of Port Ticonderoga but struggles with alcoholism and depression and often isolates himself from the family to drink his pain away. Both girls were raised by Reenie, the family housekeeper, and while much of their childhood they live a relatively privileged life until the economic downturn and its impact on their father’s factory sets the conditions that cause her father to allow the wealthy Richard Griffen to propose to Iris at only eighteen to provide for his daughters. Iris’ marriage into the family of the politically ambitious Richard and his dominating sister Winifred leaves her feeling powerless, manipulated and controlled. Her husband’s version of love is abusive and Iris suspects he has several affairs during their marriage. Richard and Winifred also control the life of her sister Laura after the death of her father while Iris is on her honeymoon with Richard. The control of Laura’s life leads to her confinement in a mental health asylum and eventually her choice to commit suicide in a vehicular accident. Yet, Iris maintains her own secret life, an affair with Alex Thomas who tells her science fiction stories but who is also on the run for his activities with Communist groups in Canada in the 1930s. The story moves between the reflections and life of an old woman, remembrances of the affair and the narration of the story of the blind assassin, and a narration of the life of Iris to be handed on to her granddaughter who she is unable to see or visit due to the manipulation of the relationship between her daughter and her by Winifred.

The ending of this story is clever and the overall story is well written, but it takes a long time to develop. There is something in the voice of the old Iris which a bit haughty and detached in her view of the world around her and I had to work to get through the first two thirds of the book. Iris’ character is passive for much of the book and life happens to her, it is only in the end where we see the places where she has carved out a space to reclaim some control of her life. It is a book told from the perspective of regret: regret for her own feelings of powerlessness, regret for the damage she was unable to shield her sister, her daughter, or herself from. There is a realism in the lack of agency for a woman who is both the child of an alcoholic and who lives in a time where women had few options. I enjoyed the ending and that made the overall journey worth it. It is difficult to read the story of a woman who has no agency from the perspective of a man who is used to exercising agency and there were times I wanted to rage at the male characters in the story for the way they treated their daughter, their wife, or their lover. Yet, the views of the past are often as alien as the worlds that are described in the science fiction narrative of the blind assassin and the strange power of a book to place you in that alien place and allow you to rage at the situations of the characters in a book is part of the strange magic that authors yield in their words.

Psalm 77 Searching for God in a Shattered World

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Marc Chagall, Solitude (1933)

Psalm 77

<To the leader: according to Jeduthun. Of Asaph. A Psalm.>
1 I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, that he may hear me.
2 In the day of my trouble I seek the Lord; in the night my hand is stretched out without wearying; my soul refuses to be comforted.
3 I think of God, and I moan; I meditate, and my spirit faints. Selah
4 You keep my eyelids from closing; I am so troubled that I cannot speak.
5 I consider the days of old, and remember the years of long ago.
6 I commune with my heart in the night; I meditate and search my spirit:
7 “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable?
8 Has his steadfast love ceased forever? Are his promises at an end for all time?
9 Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah
10 And I say, “It is my grief that the right hand of the Most High has changed.”
11 I will call to mind the deeds of the LORD; I will remember your wonders of old.
12 I will meditate on all your work, and muse on your mighty deeds.
13 Your way, O God, is holy. What god is so great as our God?
14 You are the God who works wonders; you have displayed your might among the peoples.
15 With your strong arm you redeemed your people, the descendants of Jacob and Joseph. Selah
16 When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; the very deep trembled.
17 The clouds poured out water; the skies thundered; your arrows flashed on every side.
18 The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook.
19 Your way was through the sea, your path, through the mighty waters; yet your footprints were unseen.
20 You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

The shattering of the world that we know can often lead to a crisis of faith where we wonder if God is present or if God’s ways have changed. Like the other Psalms of Asaph that open book three of the psalter, it is likely that this psalm originates in the world-shattering experience of the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of the Jewish people in Babylon. Perhaps to a person sitting in a sheltered place these agonized meditations about the faithfulness of God in the moment may seem dangerously close to heresy but this is a place where the solidness of the tradition handed on to the psalmist is challenged by the acuteness of experience (Brueggemann, 2014, p. 335). The very question of God’s identity is at stake for the psalmist as they move between the agonizing questions their present evokes and the narrative of God’s covenant they received throughout their life.

The initial verse is more jagged than translations, “my voice unto God” is repeated twice as the psalmist tries to bring their pain into a coherent speech. In many places I have written about a heartbroken God who mourns the state of the people, but here we have the utterances of a heartbroken psalmist who feels abandoned and forsaken by God. Prayer has given way to these agonized meditations which are seeking to make sense of their world which has been shattered. They are unable to sleep in this anxious state of questioning as they sit with their feelings, prayers, broken dreams, and questions not only about the future but also their relationship to God.

The acuteness of their experience has made them question whether God has changed and whether the covenant still holds. Has God spurned the individual forever? Has God broken God’s promises? Is the LORD no longer faithful? Had God’s anger and wrath overwhelmed the motherly compassion God has for the individual and the people? The wording of these questions reflects a person formed in the faith of Israel. In particular they reference the thirteen attributes of God which are seen first in Exodus 34:

“The LORD, the LORD,
a God merciful and gracious,
slow to anger,
and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness,
7 keeping steadfast love for the thousandth generation,
 forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin,
yet by no means clearing the guilty,
but visiting the iniquity of the parents upon the children
and the children’s children,
to the third and the fourth generation Exodus 34: 6-7

When the psalmist asks, “Has his steadfast love ceased forever? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up compassion?[1]” What is being referenced are key pieces of this identity that God declared for Godself. In addition to these three attributes of God is the irrevocable promise/covenant that God made with the people. The right hand, the action of the God of Israel, has changed towards the people causing the psalmist grief[2]. The psalmist in their meditation questions the justice of God’s withheld action, grace, compassion, and steadfast love. In Melanchthon’s famous phrase, “To know Christ is to know his benefits.” (Melanchton, 2014, p. 24) In the psalmist’s situation where the benefits and characteristics of God are unknown or unseen they begin to wonder if they truly know the LORD their God.

The psalm’s tone changes abruptly in verse eleven and this has led some interpreters to question if this is two psalms joined together. The two sections make sense as a part of a common meditation where in the acuteness of their experience the psalmist again attempts to hold onto the solidness of the tradition. In a time where God’s hand is turned away they go back to the memory of times when God’s strong arm redeemed the people. In a time of disasters, they remember the wonder working God. In a time where the holy places have been defiled they cling to the holiness of their God. The theological crisis posed by their experience and highlighted in their meditation is not met with logic but with memory.

The dynamic of the life of faith moves between experience and memory. In times of crisis the belief that things will change is often rooted in the experience of times of faithfulness in the past. Often the life of prayer is a life of calling upon God to be God, to exhibit the characteristics that God identifies Godself with, to recall the covenant and deliver the people. The words that desperately cling to faith in the difficult time may seem impertinent in times of peace, but that is a part of the rich gift of the scriptures which attempt to witness to the life of faith in both the times of peace and the times where the world of the author has been shattered and they are attempting to make sense of their world, their life, and God’s place within it.

 

[1] Hesed (steadfast love), hannot (gracious)t, and rahamim (compassion) in Hebrew, rahamim is translated as merciful in Exodus 34:6

[2] Literally sickness in Hebrew