the psalms

Back in April I had the privilege of preaching Psalm 6 and Psalm 103. Since then, I have remained in the psalms reading one each day. It has been both a joy and blessing.

The psalms are honest, raw, emotional, and packed full. In them we get a glimpse of the highest of highs as well as the lowest of lows. As a more emotional person, this is right in my wheel-house (to borrow the baseball term). Through the psalms, I have found much teaching on how to grieve/wrestle and rejoice in a worshipful way.

Take Psalm 77 (and note the way it easily breaks down, which adds to the beauty of the psalms)...

I cry aloud to God, aloud to God, and he will hear me. 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. When I remember God, I moan; when I meditate, my spirit faints. Selah

Rarely am I as diligent as the psalmist is in crying out to God. I'll give maybe one loud shout, and then move on. This guy shows it is acceptable to be persistent. He continues crying out until he hears an answer. As long as his grief remains, his crying will last.

You hold my eyelids open; I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, “Let me remember my song in the night; let me meditate in my heart.” Then my spirit made a diligent search: “Will the Lord spurn forever, and never again be favorable? Has his steadfast love forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all time? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” Selah

Not only does the psalmist cry out, but he wrestles. He wonders whether God has abandoned him. He despairs over the feeling of loneliness surrounding him. And he is actively searching into whether or not this could actually be the case. I tend to doubt and wrestle, but I fail to search like this guy. It is because of his searching that he is able to do what follows.

Then I said, “I will appeal to this, to the years of the right hand of the Most High.” I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work, and meditate on your mighty deeds. Your way, O God, is holy. What god is great like our God? You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph. Selah

In the midst of his despair, the psalmist goes back to what he knows: the faithful testimony of God through the ages. He recalls the love, grace, mercy, kindness, power, and wonder of God. He retells the Exodus, God's great salvation of Israel, to himself. It stands in the face of his doubt and despair. It rejuvenates his soul. All the comfort my soul needs is displayed on the cross, the fulfillment of God's great and eternal plan of redemption. It reveals the depths of His love, grace, mercy, kindness, power, and wonder. If I search long and hard into this, I will be able to respond like this psalmist.

When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled. The clouds poured out water; the skies gave forth thunder; your arrows flashed on every side. The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind; your lightnings lighted up the world; the earth trembled and shook. Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.

The psalmist ends his cry with the specifics of God's actions. As he reflects on what he has seen/heard God do, he cannot help but find renewed faith. He ends with a declaration of faith that God's leading Israel will mean God's leading in his own trial.

This is why I love the psalms. They show we can be honest in the midst of our trials and joys, and that we can maintain a heart of worship despite the pain and jubilation. We do not have to be stoic robots with no emotion. We have been created with emotion and feeling in order to worship the God who gave them to us.