Trinity 3 – evensong
I would like to consider the psalm this evening as one of the most moving of all the psalms. The verse, “Why art thou so heavy, O my soul; why art thou so disquieted within me?” never fails to move me and cause me to reflect on the trials and tribulations of the day.
This verse is a refrain which is part of a set of psalms, 42 and 43, which are often read together, and the scholars tell us must have been a unit once upon a time. Let us wander through these psalms tonight as a meditation which will allow us to appreciate more fully the collect for today.
First let us put these psalms in context, let us consider what their function in the psalter is. As a whole, these psalms turn from a lament to a prayer, like so many of the psalms, where the psalmist bewails the state of his life and the world and he asks God, “Where are you?” and in the end says, “You have always been with me!” Psalm 42 does this exactly. When you read it some other time, you will see that the scholars are right, Psalm 42 laments the thirst of the believer for the almighty; Psalm 43 continues his heart-felt cries of woe. In sum, the psalmist wants to know, “When shall I come before the presence of the Almighty God of our fathers and our forefathers before them?”
These are heart-rending questions – Tears are my sustenance, while they say, “Where is your God now?” jeering at my isolated and wretched condition . Even though in the past I joined the throngs in the temple, the house of God, now my soul pours out itself – how can I raise my voice with the words my heart offers? “Why art thou so full of heaviness, O my soul? and why art thou so disquieted within me?” These questions torture me, as I prepare to put my trust in God, to give thanks to God for the help of his countenance. In spite of that, my soul is vexed within me. And yet I continue to meditate on the memories I have of God, the saving history given to us through our forefathers and in the Bible.
Here I stand, awaiting the Lord’s favour, and yet all is awry, the changes and chances of this transitory life wash over me like the storms at sea. Those great crashing waves boil around me as I look steadfastly into the eye of the storm, adrift in a great anxiety, a soul besieged. The tears stream down my face like the rain from that maelstrom. And yet, “I wait upon the Lord.”
Still “I will say unto the God of my strength, why hast thou forgotten me: why go I thus heavily, while the enemy oppresseth me.” At the last of my strength, I lay shattered at my enemy’s feet who mocks me with the words, “Where is now thy God?” And I ask myself, “Why art thou so vexed, O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me?” There seems to be no comfort in my trust in God.
Our faith opens our eyes to those round about us. We see their jeering, their cynicism, their cold-heartedness with respect to any faith, our life-blood. Still we say in the midst of the anxiety of isolation and the seeming abandonment by God, “I will yet thank him, which is the help of my countenance, and my God.”
“Judica me” are the first two words in Psalm 43, I call upon God to be my Advocate against the enemy who accuses me of being abandoned. I cry out to be delivered from the hand of the deceitful and wicked. I acknowledge that God is my strength and question myself “why go I so heavily, while the enemy oppresseth me?” And we have an Advocate, don’t we? Our Advocate is Jesus Christ the righteous who has suffered all this before us. We know this now unlike the psalmist who penned these words before us.
Part of that judgement we require, that we demand at the beginning of this psalm, is that light and truth emanate from the Lord. The light and the truth will lead me back to God, to the kingdom where the Lord rules forever. I will continue to go to the altar of God, who is the foundation of all my joy and gladness, indeed that joy and gladness is the root of all the songs I sing, even though I say in the midst of everyday pain and suffering, “Why art thou so heavy, O my soul; why art thou so disquieted within me?”
In spite of the lament of the first fifteen verses, and despite the fact that the next to last verse asks yet again, “Why art thou so heavy, O my soul, and why art thou so disquieted within me?” I finally must say to my soul, “O put thy trust in God. I will yet give him thanks, which is the help of my countenance, and my God.”
Despite the utter bewilderment of life, the harrowing of everyday events which threaten to swamp me and make me cry rivers of tears because of their pain, in spite of those clear “lessons of life,” I will stand up and say, “I do trust in God!” Even though I am isolated and dejected, even though the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune have pinioned me into inactivity and despondency, even though like all around me I might ask, “Where are you, O God?” – yet will I wait on God, still I will trust in God. And yet still I say to my self, I speak to my soul in these words, “Why art thou so heavy, O my soul; why art thou so disquieted within me?” Sometimes I say, “Why art thou so vexed, O my soul; and why art thou so disquieted within me?” In spite of this depression, in spite of staring deep into the eye of the storm which threatens and causes me such anguish, I will still put my trust in God.
Judica me! “Deliver me from the deceitful and wicked man.” “Is that myself?” I ask. “Am I that deceitful and wicked man?” I wonder as I read this psalm. Does my soul speak to me with these two words? Or am I praying for deliverance from the evil around us? Perhaps both!
All of this underlies our understanding of being free in the service of the Lord. In the midst of the world, we must be strong so that everyone can share with us that glorious liberty of the children of God. Just how that happens, is just how the psalmist gets from his lament to his prayer of thanksgiving, a judgement which we all must make for ourselves.