
Psalm 102
A prayer of one afflicted, when faint and pleading before the LORD.
1Hear my prayer, O LORD; let my cry come to you.
2Do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress. Incline your ear to me; answer me speedily in the day when I call.
3For my days pass away like smoke, and my bones burn like a furnace.
4My heart is stricken and withered like grass; I am too wasted to eat my bread.
5Because of my loud groaning my bones cling to my skin.
6I am like an owl of the wilderness, like a little owl of the waste places.
7I lie awake; I am like a lonely bird on the housetop.
8All day long my enemies taunt me; those who deride me use my name for a curse.
9For I eat ashes like bread, and mingle tears with my drink,
10because of your indignation and anger; for you have lifted me up and thrown me aside.
11My days are like an evening shadow; I wither away like grass.
12But you, O LORD, are enthroned forever; your name endures to all generations.
13You will rise up and have compassion on Zion, for it is time to favor it; the appointed time has come.
14For your servants hold its stones dear, and have pity on its dust.
15The nations will fear the name of the LORD, and all the kings of the earth your glory.
16For the LORD will build up Zion; he will appear in his glory.
17He will regard the prayer of the destitute, and will not despise their prayer.
18Let this be recorded for a generation to come, so that a people yet unborn may praise the LORD:
19that he looked down from his holy height, from heaven the LORD looked at the earth,
20to hear the groans of the prisoners, to set free those who were doomed to die;
21so that the name of the LORD may be declared in Zion, and his praise in Jerusalem,
22when peoples gather together, and kingdoms, to worship the LORD.
23He has broken my strength in midcourse; he has shortened my days.
24“O my God,” I say, “do not take me away at the midpoint of my life, you whose years endure throughout all generations.”
25Long ago you laid the foundation of the earth, and the heavens are the work of your hands.
26They will perish, but you endure; they will all wear out like a garment. You change them like clothing, and they pass away;
27but you are the same, and your years have no end.
28The children of your servants shall live secure; their offspring shall be established in your presence.
Psalm 102 is described in its superscription as a prayer of one afflicted, when faint and pleading before the LORD. This type of description is unusual among the psalms. It doesn’t indicate an author to attribute the psalm to, nor does it give instructions for its performance or a reference to a scriptural story that the psalm comes from. This psalm of a suffering one who is alienated from their body, from society, and ultimately from God may have been intended as a psalm that any suffering individual could recite at times where their situation seemed hopeless, and God’s help seemed far away. Imagery of impermanence, loneliness, pain, and shame permeate the complaint of the psalm, but like many psalms of complaint there is a turn towards hope. The psalmist intuits that the answer, “to human finitude and mortality is divine infinitude and immortality.” (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 754)
The opening language of the psalm resonates with appeals throughout the psalter as Rolf A. Jacobson notes:
The opening appeal to be heard employs language quite typical of these entreaties—hear my prayer, let my cry come unto you (39:12), do not hide your face (27:9; 143:7), turn your ear towards me (31:2; 71:2), make haste to answer me (69:17; 143:7) (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 751)
Although Rolf Jacobson attributes this to intentionally creating a generic composition for use in the community, the use of familiar language may also reflect a person shaped in the communal worship which utilizes these psalms. The language of prayer and faith is shaped in the worshipping community which shaped the psalmist’s faith and life. Yet, now in a time when the author is alienated from their own physical body, from the community, and from God, they turn to the words that shaped their life when they were physically, socially, and religiously whole.
The psalm moves between personal complaints about their own health and isolation, “I complaints” in Westermann’s terminology, complaints about the actions of isolation and persecution by those in the psalmist’s society, “they complaints”, and complaints about the way that God is treating the psalmist, “you complaints.”[1] The personal complaints begin with an image of transience that reminds me of Ecclesiastes frequently used term hebel (vanity, emptiness). Hebel literally means smoke, mist, or vapor but is often used metaphorically to refer to the emptiness of life.[2] Now for the psalmist their days pass away like smoke and their bones burn like a furnace. Their life down to their very bones is going up in smoke while their heart withers like grass and they are too far gone to even eat the bread that could give them strength. Their songs have turned to groans and their body now is transforming into a (barely) living skeleton. We don’t know if they were suffering from an illness, but they attribute their suffering to God’s judgment upon them. Their suffering is also done in isolation, they are like an unclean owl of the wastelands or a lonely bird on a roof. These lonely images of birds heighten the feeling of the psalm, for the sufferer is not only weak but they are abandoned.
The social complaints are also sharply worded as the psalmist’s unnamed name is synonymous with a curse among their enemies. Their personal weakness and isolation are viewed in the society as a curse from God, and enemies have taken advantage of this weakness. The only nourishment left for this abandoned one is the bread of ashes and the drink of tears. Yet, behind both the physical pain and suffering and the social isolation is the LORD. We are never told of any sin that this poet has committed, but they view their suffering because of God’s anger and distance. In the words of the psalm God has cast the suffering one aside and yet hope resides in God repenting from God’s attitude towards the psalmist, turning the face and hearing with the ear and responding with grace and healing.
In contrast to the evanescent position of the psalmist is the strength and might of the LORD. The psalmist now joins his fate to the action of God to have compassion on Zion. It is possible that this psalm originates in the time of the exile where there is hope for the rebuilding of Zion and rescue the people from the destitute position as exiles in a foreign land. Yet, even without the context of the Babylonian exile, the turn to hope is based on the faithfulness of God for the people and a belief that God’s anger lasts only a moment, but God’s favor is for a lifetime.[3] The poet’s strength may have been broken in the middle of their life by God’s action, but if God wills it will be renewed. The heavens and the earth which seem so permanent to humanity are like a garment that can easily be changed by the powerful and permanent God. God will continue to endure and only in God can this suffering one hope to find a renewed physical, social, and religious life. The psalmist claims their familial bond to the LORD the God of Israel and now awaits the parental turning of their God to the children of God’s servants.
[1] Rolf A. Jacobson notes this helpful pattern citing Westermann, The Psalms (54-57). (Nancy deClaisse-Walford, 2014, p. 752)
[2] Psalm102 does not use the term hebel but the combination of words of impermanence create a similar resonance for me as Ecclesiastes.


