Musings of a Follower

I have considered the days of old, the years of ancient times.

I call to remembrance my song in the night: I commune with mine own heart:

and my spirit made diligent search.

Will the Lord cast off forever? and will he be favourable no more?

Is his mercy clean gone forever? doth his promise fail for evermore?

 Hath God forgotten to be gracious?

hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Selah

Psalm 77:5-9

(Continued from my previous post  – “Refusing Comfort”)

In the agony of his exile, the psalmist turned to the “good old days.”  He did not remember the bad times, he remembered the good days – the days he went to the Temple, the days of Shabbat, family get-togethers, and the prosperity they enjoyed. He also looked back into the “ancient days,” the collective memory of Israel as a nation – the call of Abraham, Joshua conquering Canaan, the reign of David, the prosperity of the reign of Solomon, and many other Divine interventions in their history.

He remembered his song in the night. James Murphy in his Critical and Exegetical Commentary (p. 413)  translated verse six this way:

I remember my music in the night: I muse in my heart, and my spirit searcheth.

The psalmist remembered those nights he would sit and sing praises to God accompanied by his neginoth (stringed instrument).  To “muse” means to think deeply about, or ponder, something – like an event, a saying, or life itself.  Musing is the purpose of music and music helped him muse.

 As he remembered those pleasant days and great victories, he began to ponder his present state. It was not an intellectual quest – it was a spiritual one.  His spirit made a “diligent search.”

The intensity of this search is hinted at the first occurrence of this Hebrew word (hapas) in Genesis 31:35. Fed up with Laban’s unfair treatment, Jacob, along with his wives Rachel and Leah, left Laban. Before they left, Rachel stole Laban’s idols so Laban pursued them.  After catching up to them, Laban searched Jacob’s, and then Leah’s, tent. Frustrated after finding nothing, Laban made a “diligent search” of Rachel’s tent – tearing everything apart and combing through all she had.

 That scene gives us a physical picture of the psalmist’s spiritual quest.  It could even be called a “crisis of faith.” The psalmist pursued answers by asking some critical questions.

• Has the Lord rejected me forever? (NLT) In other words, “Is this the way the rest of my life is going to be?” The word for “forever” (olam) gives the idea of a vanishing point – the psalmist could not imagine any time in the future when his situation would improve.
• Will he never again be kind to me? (NLT) Will I ever experience His grace again? Is this the end of His blessing on my family, my business, and my nation?
• Has his steadfast love forever ceased? (ESV) The Hebrew word for “steadfast love” (chesed) is used 248 times in the Old Testament and speaks mostly of the Lord’s mercy and lovingkindness.  It brings with it the thought of a covenant love – a promise to love – that is seen when God showed Moses His glory in Exodus 34:6,7.  The psalmist was asking if God’s covenant to be kind and merciful to him and his nation had expired because of their sin – never to return.
• Are his promises at an end for all time? (ESV) Have all of His promises been exhausted? The psalmist’s promise box was empty.  He was even questioning if he could still trust God’s word.
• Hath God forgotten to be gracious? (KJV)  Has God forgotten how to answer prayer? Does He no longer know how to show mercy?
• Has he slammed the door on his compassion? (NLT) Has He cut me off from ever experiencing His love in my life again? Has He disowned me?

Take some time and pause at this Selah in the psalmist’s life.  The exile was a time of chastisement from the Lord.  It was the strong, painful, but loving hand of a Father reaching out to awaken His people to His purpose for their lives and their nation.  As a child of His through Jesus, that same God deals with us in a similar way.  His discipline isn’t just an occasional “spanking” for the times we sin.  It is a day-by-day regimen to make us “partakers of His holiness” (Hebrews 12 :3-11).  At times it can be like a boot camp, not easy or soft, and may not seem very loving – but it is needed. It can cause more agony than peace, and we, like the psalmist, wonder at times if He is listening – or even there.  We may feel that He has cast us off, or thrown us away like a snotty tissue.  Sometimes the agony is increased as we remember the sense of His presence we once experienced but can no longer feel.

It is these times we need to remember that the answers to these questions is a resounding “NO.” God is NOT in the casting off business, but the exact opposite is happening. He is actually calling us closer.  We hesitate to embrace this fact because this calling may (and probably will) take us through narrower, and even more uncomfortable, paths than we are willing to take.

Our Heavenly Father sends His divine disciplines to break us out of our selfishness, wake us up to the evil around us, motivate us to control our desires, curb our passions, and become wise – “understanding what the will of the Lord is” (Ephesians 5:17). Although painful (even traumatic) at the time of their arrival, if we receive them as from His loving hands they eventually produce in us a deeper peace, a stronger faith, and a greater confidence in His providence.

 In the midst of it all, we need to remember that His strength is made perfect in weakness.  Although it may not seem to be there – His grace will be more than sufficient to help us through the pain of His discipline.