Psalm 25:9 – The Anavim

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

“ He will cause humble ones to travel in discernment,

   And He will train humble ones [in] His way.”

This verse explains something that has eluded me personally for years. It also causes me to re-think a perspective I’ve had toward others.

First of all, what I feel is particularly noteworthy is the Hebrew word which I have translated “humble ones.” The word is anavim (pronounced something like ah’-nah-veem). As soon as I saw it there was something down deep inside of me that didn’t like it, having seen it before and knowing basically what it means. It comes from the root word anah. Get a load of what TWOT says about anah: “The primary meaning of anah is ‘to force,’ or ‘to try to force to submission,’ and ‘to punish or inflict pain upon’ … to find oneself in a stunted, humble, lowly position.” So the word itself carries the idea of being beaten down, crushed, afflicted. TWOT also comments, “This is the goal which God intended when He afflicted His people …”

That’s the anavim, the “humble ones” from our verse. Beat down ones. Crushed ones. Afflicted ones.

They’re the ones the Lord causes to “travel in discernment” and “trains in the way.” Like it says in the NT: “The Lord resists the proud; He gives His grace to the humble.”

So I suppose you already see why I don’t like it. I don’t like feeling beaten down. And I don’t like watching other people suffer, especially the people I love most. I don’t like that somehow suffering is necessary for them to be blessed. I wish there was another way. (Someone important once prayed, “If it be possible, let this cup pass from Me…” so I suppose my basic sentiments are not out of line(!)). I wish no one had to suffer. I wish I didn’t have to read about all the horrible tragedies in the world, that I didn’t have to walk through graveyards and see one stone after another bearing its tale of sorrow and heartache. I wish there wasn’t so much cruelty in homes. I wish it could be true that never again would any man ever hurt a woman. I wish no one ever had to feel alone or go hungry or be cold or thirsty. As for everyone else, I wish I myself could live without suffering.

All of that is why I don’t like to think about the anavim.

But we keep studying. The Lord is always right and His way is always best, even if in my little mind, I don’t understand.

Think about this: “It must, of necessity, be the anavim who receive the Lord’s instructions and blessing, due to the fact that we are all so naturally lifted up in our pride. The problem is that, in order to be taught, one must be teachable. The Lord wants to teach us, help us, lead us but as K&D notes, ‘Upon the self-righteous or self-sufficient He would be obliged to force Himself even against their will.’ He’s too loving and good for that. Thus, only the anavim can enjoy those benefits fully.”

John Calvin said, “Never will this docility be found in any man, until the heart , which is naturally elated and filled with pride, has been humbled and subdued.”

Oh. Yeah. That’s the part I forget. Pride. The ruin of our souls. The ruin of our lives. The devil’s sin. The sin that blinds the sinner to itself. The sin that clings to me like my very skin. The sin that robs me of everything that matters to me in this world. High and lifted up.Gaaak.

In this world, the only possible cure is to keep me beaten down. Yeah, I see that. It’s too bad it’s true. I’m sorry the Lord has to resort to such stern treatment, not because He wants to, but because I need it. It’s actually the most loving thing He could do. Crush me. Afflict me. Beat me down. And it’s interesting that the very name, the anavim, the crushed ones, connotes the idea of a long, long process. They aren’t anavim because a tree just fell on them. They’re anavim because being crushed is somehow their very life. And I understand that too. Being crushed once may “humble” me, but doesn’t make me “humble.” What makes me humble is when the pain goes on and on and on and on, grinding me to powder, wearing me out, sending me again and again to the Throne of Grace, begging God for help and strength and relief, seeing that I’m not better than anyone else, seeing that they suffer too, truly understanding their suffering because I suffer it too. That long grinding process changes our nature from proud, arrogant buffoons into gentle, kind, considerate, compassionate, teachable, humble humans. Into anavim.

As I said in the beginning, that explains something that has eluded me for years. It seems like my whole Christian life I have felt beaten down. I have prayed almost daily with Psalm 143:

³ The enemy pursues me,
   he crushes me to the ground;
   he makes me dwell in the darkness
   like those long dead.
⁴ So my spirit grows faint within me;
   my heart within me is stunned. .
⁶ I spread out my hands to you;
   I thirst for you like a parched land.

 ⁷ Answer me quickly, LORD;
   my spirit fails.

I’ve begged God to deliver me, longed for the day when “this will all be over” and wondered if I could even hope for that. All the while of course, I definitely “don’t like it.” But having studied the word here in Psalm 25, I feel like for the first time, I really do understand. It has to be this way. And it needs to be this way. I still don’t like it, but I understand it. I still wish it would all go away. But somehow in just a small little way, my heart says, “I’m cool with it.” I’m glad it will end, at least when I leave this world. I just realize it may not until then and I see why not. I see too why it was so common in the Bible, when the Lord did bless someone and give them an easy life, they invariably went down in pride. Hezekiah, David, Solomon, Asah, Uzziah. Yikes.

And then it corrects a perspective I’ve had toward others. As I said above, I wish other people didn’t have to suffer, especially people I love. For me that comes down to that I have a hard time being hard on other people. It’s easy for me to see that we should all be extra kind to clerks, be generous in our tips to waitresses, be quick to give someone else a break, to be understanding of their struggles. But it has always been hard for me to actually be firm, even rough with people, even when they needed it. It’s one thing that has kept me from being a coach. I love to run. I would love to coach a cross-country team. But I don’t know how to “push” the kids. I see really talented coaches and trainers who are unbelievable in how they can draw out of another person every last ounce of their capabilities. And that is a really, really good thing. But it’s so hard for me to see someone else suffer.

What this study does is maybe knock out just a little of my weakness. I feel I do understand. I feel like I really understand for the first time. I really do understand. I see that the suffering really is absolutely necessary. In order to succeed, really, one must become an anavim. And that includes the people I love. I need to love them enough to let God make them anavim. If it’s my job, somehow I need to love them enough to see that hardship is necessary to make them anavim … even if I’m involved deliberately in the affliction (youch. that one will still take some work).

I have to tell a story. When I was in high school, my track coach Louie Baker would sometimes make us run ten 75-second 440’s 30 seconds apart. He’d say, “Go!” and we were supposed to do one lap (440 yards = ¼ mile) in 75 seconds. Whether we did or didn’t, 30 seconds after the 75 ended, he’d say, “Go!” and we were supposed to do it again … ten times in a row. The deal was that if you could break four 75-second 440’s in a row, you were running under a 5:00 mile, which for high school students in a small school was major. Those things were horrific. By the last two or three your lungs would be on fire. I don’t think I’ve done any other workout in my life that hurt like those 75-second 440’s. But I loved them. I saw his logic. I wanted to run miles in the 4:00’s. He “inflicted” them on us. I had to suffer through it. And today I can look back and say, “When I was in high school, I ran the mile in the 4:00’s!” I’m really proud of that. Few can say that. But the analogy is so clear to me. I had to become a track anavim. I had to be crushed before I could rise. Cool. I’m glad that Louie Baker had the fortitude to put me through that, even if he could see how much I was hurting. How much more true it is of God and how much more important are the eternal issues that come and go in my life today.

One last thing I have to comment on. My translation is “He will cause humble ones to travel in discernment, …”  If I was being totally literal, I would translate it to say, “He will cause humble ones to travel in the judgment “The judgment” is pretty rough translation work, though.. The Hebrew word is the simple word for judgment, mishpat, but it is preceded by the article the, making it literally “the judgment” which makes an obscure sentence in English. What could He mean, “He will cause humble ones to travel in the judgment”? Barnes says the word describes, “In a right judgment or estimate of things. It is not merely in the administration of justice, or in doing right, but it is in judging of truth; of duty; of the value of objects; of the right way to live; of all on which the mind can be called to exercise judgment or come to a decision.” That makes sense. The combination with the article is making it a picture word. K&D adds, “[this] Mishpat is the right so far as it is traversed, i.e. practiced or carried out”. I think the picture is that the Lord enables His anavim to travel in the right way because they’re discerning of real truth and real value. Hmmm. That’s definitely one thing we’d all agree suffering does for us … we usually come away with a lot better grip on what is and isn’t important in life. So, again we see, it is a good thing for the Lord to make us anavim.

This is the same idea where Jesus said, “Come unto Me all ye that labor and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn of Me, for I am meek and lowly of heart and you shall find rest unto your souls” (Matt 11:28-30).

I hope I will be even maybe a little more cooperative with the Lord as He loves me enough to make me an anavim. I still don’t have to like pain, but, as with the 440’s, I see the logic. Then I need to let Him help me accept that same process in others’ lives, even when I need to be part of it.

“… for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

“Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight.”