Psalm 22

To the choirmaster: according to The Doe of the Dawn. A Psalm of David.

1 My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning?

2 O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest.

This verse is a jarring cry following the triumphant prayer that precedes it. The same psalmist would confidently proclaimed the absolute victory of God over his enemies now declares in question form that he has been utterly abandoned by God. He addresses God in the short-form of his name -- Eli (my God) as opposed to the more intimate LORD (YHWH). It’s the way that a non-believer might reference the God of Israel as an outsider. There are three accusations in this verse that come in the form of questions. (Yes we can make accusations with questions). The first is that God has forsaken him. He has utterly abandoned him. God couldn’t be more distant. Second, God is far from saving him. There is no rescue in sight. Help is not on the way. He is sitting on his hands, preoccupied with more important things. Finally, God doesn’t even seem to hear the psalmist’s groaning. There are no words, just cries, grunts, groans, and uncontrollable sobbing. He cries out by day and God is silent. He prays at night and cannot sleep. These two verses express the kind of disappointment with God that many have felt when they receive bad news. Not just bad news, but life-altering, never-ending grief producing news -- the sudden death of a spouse, a child, or a dear friend. The loss of a spouse or friend through betrayal. The diagnosis of a terminal illness (your own or someone you love). These are the moments of anger and frustration at a God who has been declared to be all powerful in page after page of the psalms, a God whom you believe has a special place in his heart for the poor and needy. Allow yourself to linger on these words and recognize that they are the words of someone who wants to believe, but is really struggling. God is silent, uncaring, and uninvolved, effectively turning his back on us when we need him the most. This is where many people are in their relationship with God. They might say that they didn’t leave God. God left them. This is where the psalmist begins. Thankfully it is not where he ends.

3 Yet you are holy, enthroned on the praises [dwelling in the praises] of Israel.

4 In you our fathers trusted; they trusted, and you delivered them.

5 To you they cried and were rescued; in you they trusted and were not put to shame.

The psalmist makes an attempt at faith in these verses as he grasps for hope that God has not in fact utterly abandoned him. He recalls the worship of the community as the people of Israel gather for the festivals to worship. God seemed so real in those times, so near in his worship. He thought back to the stories he’d heard as a child of how God had delivered the patriarchs one after another through impossible odds, culminating with the Exodus and the miraculous crossing of the Red Sea. Surely he had as much faith as they, and yet God was ignoring his pleas for rescue. Other people cried out in prayer to God and he showed up dramatically. Others put their trust in the same God that had now abandoned him, and they were not humiliated as he was now. Sometimes worship and community can encourage us and lift us from depression, but other times they remind us of how far we feel from God. When others are celebrating and experiencing the miraculous and your circumstances remain as dark as ever, their joy can become like a knife in your chest. These verses may be less an attempt at faith and more an attempt to take the knife to God with a massive exclamation point on the “why?” question in the first verse. David is not feeling closer to his community of faith as he recalls their worship and their rescue, he is feeling more isolated. Are there people in the church that feel this as well? They come to worship and see everyone else who has it all together and it only magnifies their pain. It is a different kind of loneliness, but it may be the worst kind: loneliness in a crowd. 

6 But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by mankind and despised by the people.

7 All who see me mock me; they make mouths at me; they wag their heads;

8 “He trusts in the LORD; let him deliver him; let him rescue him, for he delights in him!”

Unlike those faithful who had gone before him, the psalmist has been abandoned not only by God, but by his community. He is completely ostracized to the point where he no longer feels like a human being. He feels that he is a worm, not like a worm, but he is a worm. This is the lowest form of visible life. It could be referring to an earthworm I suppose, but even more drastic and I think more likely would be a maggot, the larva of a fly that feeds upon a dead (unclean) thing. It’s one of the most dramatic falls imaginable -- from the pinnacle of God’s creation (human) to the lowest (maggot). Utterly alone, the psalmist even feels separated from his humanity. He no longer feels human. His life is worthless, meaningless, brief, and hideous. Every negative adjective imaginable could be employed at this point as one contemplates what it is like to be a maggot, a worm. Of course, he’s not getting ignored by his community, that might actually be welcomed. Instead he is openly mocked by them. They make faces at him and shake their heads. They make no effort to help him in any way, and they mock him further by reminding him that God has abandoned him as well. “If he thinks he’s so special that God delights in him, then let that same God save him!” Either this group doesn’t have faith in God or they don’t have faith in David to get himself out of this situation. They must believe that David is getting what he deserves, otherwise they would step in and help simply because it is the human thing to do. No, David must have done something to deserve what is happening to him (or at least was suspected of doing something). And perhaps he did -- adultery, murder, favoritism (injustice) -- these are all on his resume. However, David never repents in this prayer, so it’s a mystery as to the circumstance that prompts the prayer. We don’t have to know, because this is a prayer that just about everyone can identify with at some point. Loneliness -- abandoned by God, by people, and finally, unhappy with yourself. The psalmist may be suicidal by this point, but at least he’s still talking with God. No matter how dark it gets, never stop talking with God. 

9 Yet you are he who took me from the womb; you made me trust you at my mother's breasts.

10 On you was I cast from my birth, and from my mother's womb you have been my God.

11 Be not far from me, for trouble is near, and there is none to help.

And David continues to talk with God even though he is frustrated with Him. He turns away from his current circumstance and looks back to his childhood. Beginning with his birth (God took him from the womb) -- reminding us of the miracle of birth and reality of the presence of God in the creation and birthing of life -- God has been with David. His family raised him to trust in God and there has never been a time in his life when he didn’t know God. Perhaps he reflects back on his years as a shepherd, fighting lions and fending off the flock from thieves. Perhaps he returns to the battlefield where he slew Goliath and eventually 10’s of thousands of others. Perhaps he thinks of his own immediate family and the blessing of the many children in his life. The reality is that he had a faith history, a demonstrable story of God’s faithful presence and action in his life. This reflection on the past may have brought some comfort to David as he turns to make his first request of the psalm: “Be not far from me, for trouble is near and there is none to help.” He seems to be warming up to God as he moves from frustration to faith. He acknowledges that there is no one to help. He can’t fix this on his own and there doesn’t seem to be any solution that is humanly possible. He expresses total dependence on God -- “there is none to help.”  Every other source of help has abandoned him and he is left with no other options. This reminds me of one of the twelve steps of AA -- a recognition that I need a higher power. I can’t fix this myself. There is none to help. It is a cry of desperation that is rooted in David’s past experience with God’s faithfulness.

12 Many bulls encompass me; strong bulls of Bashan surround me;

13 they open wide their mouths at me, like a ravening and roaring lion.

David describes his current condition in vivid detail. He is surrounded by bulls, strong bulls of Bashan, the highlands in the northeast of Israel known for their livestock. Anyone who’s seen a bull fight on TV can attest to the lethal power of these animals when angered. David is moments away from a gory death (or should it be “gore-y”?, pun intended). Furthermore, he characterizes his enemies as hungry, roaring lions. Completely unrestrained in their desire to sate their appetites, these people are ready to immediately pounce and devour David. We don’t live in the type of world where death by lion or bull is a common thing, but in David’s day it may have been more likely, and the metaphor is certainly not lost on us today. People can turn into animals. Consider the wars of the last century, the genocides and the rise of terrorism. Ponder the fact that every day boys and girls are effectively sold as slaves to the sex industry where they are brutalized by animals. In some ways bulls and lions are more merciful than men -- they will end your life quickly. I’m inclined to stop now and pray for those that like David are surrounded by bulls and lions. There doesn’t seem to be a way out, and it feels like God has abandoned them. I know how the psalm ends. I know that it directs us to the cross. I don’t understand how God’s justice is satisfied and the guilty are either punished or set free by it. But I know that it is the answer to the brutality of men who act like animals. 

14 I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it is melted within my breast;

15 my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death.

Having described what was around him, David provides an account of his physical condition in a series of metaphors and similes. He is poured out like water, emptied of strength with nothing left. No desire, no motivation, no will to go on, empty. All of his bones are out of joint. Movement is painful or impossible. His joints are hyperextended. He has been stretched in ways that a person should not be stretched. The inconceivable has happened and he is bent out of shape and stuck in an uncomfortable condition. His heart is like wax. There is no firmness inside his soul. Where one he was stout, strong, and unwavering, now he melts under the slightest pressure. His boldness, bravery, and courage are gone and he’s a pushover. His strength is dried up like a potsherd that has been baked in the sun, absolutely no moisture present, and like a potsherd, discarded and useless. He is thirsty and speechless, dehydrated and drying out in the blazing sun, he is all but dead. And who does he blame for it? “You lay me in the dust of death”. He is blaming God. He describes his enemies in third person (vss 12-13) and his own condition in first person (vss. 14-15), but when he comes to the cause, he points his finger at God. You did this. You stood by and did nothing while my enemies circle and the resources I needed for life were cut off. You could have stopped this from happening. You could have healed me. I’ve trusted you from infancy and when I needed you, you were nowhere to be found. David’s lament is reaching a crescendo here as his real feelings come out. “You lay me in the dust of death.” You’ve delivered the knockout punch God, and I’m on the ground about to breath my last. Are you satisfied? Is this how Jesus felt on the cross? We know that he prayed some of these words, but did he pray them all? I think so. I think the abandonment of his father may have been the worst aspect of the cross. Everything that David is saying of himself here was true of Jesus so why wouldn’t he have prayed this? God killed Jesus. God laid him in the dust of death. God stood by and let it happen so that he would experience in Christ the worst of human pain -- abandonment by God. A trinitarian being who had never known loneliness, existing in relationship for eternity now felt utterly alone. He fully experienced our loneliness, our frustration with God’s silence, our anger at his abandonment. He was made like us in every way, including the experience of every pain human beings have ever experienced. Whatever David was going through, it did not begin to compare with the order of suffering that Jesus endured.  

16 For dogs encompass me; a company of evildoers encircles me; they have pierced my hands and feet [like a lion [they are at] my hands and feet]—

17 I can count all my bones— they stare and gloat over me;

18 they divide my garments among them, and for my clothing they cast lots.

David now tells us that he is encircled by dogs, unclean scavengers who are there to pick the bones of the dead clean and lick up their blood. These are of course not dogs, but company of evildoers. So David is not completely abandoned -- he is surrounded by men who want to do him hard. They have dug into his hands and his feet, perhaps suggesting some type of binding of the hands and feet. Or perhaps as the alternate translation suggests, they are like a lion who is inches away from him, ready to grad his hands and feet and tear him limb from limb (although a lion would probably for the neck). Verse 16 would then have the force of communicating the David is completely surrounded and about to be finished off. The following verse describes a different kind of ending, one that is a result of privation. He can count all his bones because they are showing through his skin. No doubt David had seen that kind of emaciated condition in his lifetime as people suffered from famine, war and sickness. As he nears death, he still has no company except for those that stare in horror and those that gloat over his loss. All that’s left now is to divide up his possessions and settle who is getting the clothes on his back for that seems to be all that he has of worth. There are few verses in this psalm that are more descriptive of the crucifixion of Jesus than these -- surrounded by soldiers and mockers, bound first by cords and then by nails, his killers rolling dice for his only possession, emaciated and gaunt from the grueling six hours of bleeding on the cross, the end is near. Critics will say that the similarities are so uncanny here that the gospel accounts were doctored to match up with the psalm. The psalm was used in the book of Hebrews to reference Jesus, so it must have been understood as a prophetic text by that time, and the synoptic gospels likely pre-dated or at the least were contemporary with the composition of Hebrews. Did the gospel writers have Psalm 22 in mind as they recorded the details of Jesus’ crucifixion? Perhaps, but that may have also been because they relied on eyewitness testimony that recorded Jesus speaking the words of the psalm. The lesson for us is that Jesus experienced one of the worst deaths imaginable in order to identify with humanity and on a cosmic scale, accomplish redemption. David may have wondered if his suffering had meaning as he penned these words. How could he have known that those words would be prophetic of Jesus’ ultimate suffering which accomplished our great redemption? David’s own redemption as well was accomplished through Jesus suffering of course. We cannot see the future and how God might redeem our suffering as well, but this is the beauty of the Christian view of suffering -- it can be redeemed. It isn’t pointless. 

19 But you, O LORD, do not be far off! O you my help, come quickly to my aid!

20 Deliver my soul from the sword, my precious life from the power of the dog!

21 Save me from the mouth of the lion! You have rescued [answered] me from the horns of the wild oxen!

For the first time in the psalm, David addresses God using the divine name, YHWH. He also expresses his faith in a new title for YHWH, “my Help”.  This reflects a change in thinking. He makes a series of petitions in rapid fire succession. “Be not far off, come quickly to my aid, deliver my soul from the sword and my life from the dog, save me from the mouth of the lion.” He renames all of his enemies and prays for rescue. Addressing his loneliness first, he asks for God to not be far off and come quickly to his aid. Then he asks for his life to be spared from the sword and from the dogs who are about to finish him off. Finally he asks for salvation from certain death in the mouth of the lion. However the final petition in verse 21 is not a  petition but a statement, “You have rescued me from the horns of the wild oxen.” He’s come full circle to where this section began in verse 12, back to the bulls who have encircled him. He envisions God’s rescue before it even happens. The eyes of faith take over and his dire circumstances fade away. He’s still suffering, his enemies are still at his hands and feet, he’s still alone in this world, but he can already see the salvation of God. If this is not a picture of triumph over suffering through faith I don’t know what is. This was also Jesus’ experience as he looked to the end of his six hours on the cross, “who for the joy set before him endured the cross.” Through the eyes of faith he could see not only his deliverance (resurrection), but he could see ours as well and all that his crucifixion accomplished. No matter how dark it may become, trust that there is a light and move forward in that confidence while making your petitions to the only one who can help.   

22 I will tell of your name to my brothers; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you:

23 you who fear the LORD, praise him!  All you offspring of Jacob, glorify him, and stand in awe of him, all you offspring of Israel!

David moves immediately from confidence in YHWH’s rescue to an exuberant declaration of worship, summoning all people to join him. He will begin by worshiping among the community of the faithful -- the same community referenced in verse 3 who enthroned YHWH on their praise. The same community that he once felt estranged from will now hear his testimony. He then turns to the broader community inviting gentile and Jew alike to praise, glorify, and stand in awe of YHWH. Verse 12 is one of the keys to connecting this psalm to Jesus as the writer of Hebrews puts these words in the mouth of Jesus. There is no other stated context in the gospels for the quoting of this psalm than by Jesus on the cross. Jesus quoted the first verse and the 22nd verse (and maybe the 31st verse), so it’s likely that the entire psalm was in his mind on the cross. The link to Hebrews 2 gives meaning to the suffering of the cross. Jesus, the author of salvation, was made perfect through suffering. In what sense was Jesus ever “imperfect”? He was imperfect as a savior in the sense that before the cross he had not experienced the fullness of human suffering. He had lived 33 years of life on this planet and had certainly experienced some level of suffering in that time, but what happened on the cross, based on other texts in the NT and OT (Isaiah 53 in particular), tells us that the just judgment of God for all the sin and suffering of humanity was poured out on him. He experienced abandonment from his father. Every pain you can imagine was experienced on the cross. God knows now what it is like to suffer. In that sense he became perfect through suffering. He became the perfect savior because he can now identify fully with what it means to be human, right down to the doubts about God’s goodness. That is the message of Hebrews 2. Yes, Jesus accomplished atonement on the cross, but he also accomplished radical identification with each one of us. This is one reason why I praise him in the congregation. 

24 For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard, when he cried to him.

25 From you comes my praise in the great congregation; my vows I will perform before those who fear him.

David returns to his promises to worship, confident that he has been heard and will soon receive an answer to his cries. He is now stating the very opposite of his complaint in the first stanza -- “Why are you so far?” when he declares that YHWH has not hidden his face from him. David’s worship takes two forms. First he praises YHWH in the great congregation. This indicates corporate worship, likely the involvement of singing and verbal declarations of praise and thanksgiving. The second aspect of his worship is the performing of vows before those who fear God. Often “God-fearers” refers to gentiles and that may be the case here, or just a term to parallel “great congregation”. In any case, they are public acts of worship once again -- offerings and sacrifice. The congregation that he once felt estranged from (vs. 3) is now his home. The sense of verse 24 is that David felt God had turned away from him because he was so hideous, so afflicted that the the Holy One would not to see him. There doesn’t seem to be the suggestion that David has sinned, but typically physical affliction was seen as God’s judgment upon sin, so that may be underlying the situation. David may feel innocent of sin, and this makes his affliction all the more unreasonable and maddening. The beautiful thing about this birth is that God chose to come near to David’s suffering, to turn his face toward him, and in Jesus, actually pick up David’s afflictions and carry them. Isaiah 53 states this clearly, “surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows.” God hasn’t hated our afflictions, he has made them his own.This is a profound mystery, but a powerful one that has sustained me in grief. God literally suffers with me. I don’t know how exactly, but the cross and this psalm are proof of it. 

26 The afflicted [The meek] shall eat and be satisfied; those who seek him shall praise the LORD! May your hearts live forever!

27 All the ends of the earth shall remember and turn to the LORD, and all the families of the nations shall worship before you.

28 For kingship belongs to the LORD, and he rules over the nations.

The psalmist’s attention now turns outward and he speaks prophetically of a fantastic future where the afflicted and humble will eat and be satisfied. That was really saying something at a time when I assume most people lived hand to mouth existences and obesity wasn’t a thing. With the abundance of food that we enjoy today, this doesn’t sound so special. Everyone I know eats and is satisfied every day. However, this is a vision for the whole world, the ends of the earth and the families of nations, worshiping with feasting. He describes a great turning to the YHWH as the ends of the earth remember Him. His kingship is acknowledged, presumably by even his enemies, as this verse suggests universal worship. This is even more astounding when you consider the context of the cross. As Jesus is praying this psalm he reaches the final third of it, and he can grasp this vision of universal worship, the wedding feast of the lamb, a multi-cultural, multilingual worship service of the ages. The rebellion depicted in Psalm 2 is over as the nations acknowledge the kingship of YHWH and joyfully bind themselves to Him. This was the “joy set before him” that enabled Jesus to endure the suffering of the cross. Is this the vision that motivates you each day to share the gospel? As the world looks for political and economic solutions to the world’s problems, I see Jesus’ solution. It is in communicating this amazing truth that there is a God who loves each one of us enough to enter into our suffering and then to free us by his death from death itself so that we never have to fear what lies beyond the grave. We have the opportunity to be a part of this throng of humanity worshiping God and living in unity and harmony forever. It’s too fantastic to believe, but it’s true. There is an empty tomb to prove it.

29 All the prosperous of the earth eat and worship; before him shall bow all who go down to the dust, even the one who could not keep himself alive.

30 Posterity shall serve him; it shall be told of the LORD to the coming generation;

31 they shall come and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn, that he has done it.

Not only will the poor and afflicted have their day of feasting and satisfaction, but the rich will join them as well. Social and economic class will be meaningless as all will bow before the king of the earth. There won’t even be a distinction between the living and the dead for those who go down to the dust and cannot stay alive -- even they will worship him. Posterity will serve him, the coming generation (children) will be told of the LORD. These children will come (to Jerusalem?) and proclaim his righteousness to a people yet unborn. This is nothing short of universal and timeless worship for what God has accomplished. The final phrase, “he has done it”, likely refers to all of the above. God has not abandoned his suffering servants, he has rescued them from the mouths of the lions, he has heard their cry and answered them with deliverance. He has placed him in a congregation of worshipers from every culture, language, social and economic class, joyfully proclaiming God good salvation with young and old alike, passing this truth on to succeeding generations. This phrase, “he has done it”, sounds suspiciously like “It is finished” the tetelestai that Jesus uttered from the cross. That is not how the Septuagint expresses it, but it is close enough to suggest that Jesus had this entire psalm in mind while on the cross. In his final breaths he could see into the future and behold this glorious vision of unity and worship. There is no question that the cross is the hinge of history, the most significant 6 hours in the human story. And the story goes on. What part will you play until He finally declares at the end of the ages, “it is finished?