Psalm 25:15 – Which Way to Look?

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

¹⁵My eyes [are] always toward YHVH, because He will bring out my feet from the net.

“…because He will bring out my feet from the net.” The “net” is of course the Hebrew equivalent of a snare. In order to catch birds, somehow they would set out a net. When the bird tried to take the bait, somehow its feet would get tangled in the net and thus it would be caught. That’s not exactly the way we think of “catching something in a net,” but the imagery certainly isn’t unfamiliar. I can certainly say for myself, I have no trouble conceiving the idea of my feet tangled in a net and being unable to escape. We all find our feet tangled in nets of perplexity, doubts, difficulties, dangers, even the threat of death itself. The “problem” proposed in this verse is finding ourselves in any of a seemingly million different ways entangled in some kind of “net” of trouble.

The question is what will we do? How do I deal with all these threats and fears and difficulties? Interestingly, David says emphatically that “He will bring out my feet from the net.” In Hebrew the “He” is emphatic, which is why I’ve underlined it. That is precisely the point we need to get fixed in our minds, that “He will bring out my feet from the net.” Only the Lord can rescue me. I may have plenty to do, steps to take, phone calls to make, etc., but I must realize that, still, it will be Him Who delivers me, or I’ll not be delivered at all. When I follow my own devices, I may escape some current danger only to land in something worse. It’s the old cliché, “Out of the frying pan into the fire!”

That is where the first half of the verse comes in: “My eyes are always toward the Lord, …” Calvin said, “It is rather our nature when in distress to devise for ourselves various methods of deliverance and salvation … We must learn to be contented with God alone.” Barnes noted, “[Ours is] a religion of dependence on God, for man’s only hope is in Him.” Thus we are admonished in Hebrews 12:1,2: “Let us run with endurance the race that is marked out for us, looking unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of our faith.” It is one of the exercises of Christian maturity to strive to keep our eyes on the Lord, by faith to believe that even while I do my duties, He remains the Master of my fate. I must cultivate this “look” of faith, of confidence, of trust and admiration, of wonder, humility, obedience, reverence, and last but not least, of affection.

Eve “saw that the fruit was good for food and pleasing to the eye …” when she should have seen that the Lord is good, that His beauty is matchless. She “looked” the wrong way and with Adam plunged the entire Creation into the misery of sin. So for us. We fall in part because of the “lust of the eyes.” Jesus said, “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness” (Matt 6:22,23). Our eyes are “bad” when we’re “seeing” the wrong things, valuing that which is temporal. The eye is “good” when, while fully cognizant of the present, it looks by faith beyond this world and sees the God Who’s over it all, strives to value the things He values.

The key is that, even in distress, I cannot let go my grip on Him. Even in my distress, I must believe that He is and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him, that the surest route to deliverance is the path of duty and love before Him, that I must “do right ‘till the stars fall,” that I must at all times and in all ways love God and love people, that I must never let love and faithfulness leave me. God’s way is the right way. Any other path will lead only to the Dungeon of Despair. And I must keep up this belief, though the deliverance seem long in coming, though the pain grows worse, not better. I must keep on saying, as this Psalm began, “Unto thee, O Lord, do I lift up my soul …”

I was reading the other day and someone remarked, “When the Lord gives us a bitter cup to drink …” In my mind, I instantly foresaw the conclusion, “He will deliver us from it.” However, I was surprised to see that wasn’t the following phrase. Instead it said, “He will give us the strength to drink it.” (!)  “When the Lord gives us a bitter cup to drink, He will give us the strength to drink it.” I realized that is actually far more encouraging. I would love to be delivered today from all my troubles. But I’ve lived long enough to know first of all it’s not going to happen and second, even if it did, a whole new host of problems would rush in to fill the vacuum. It’s far more important to know, in this world, that the Lord will give me the strength to keep on, to help me keep my eyes on Him.

Even as I suffer, even as I fear, may He remain the “apple of my eye.” May I struggle even believing that “He will bring out my feet from the net.” He’ll do it His way, in His time, and my task is simply to keep on striving to follow Him, to keep “looking” to Him.

Lord help us. We love You. Help us love You.

Psalm 25:12-14 – The Honor of Confidences

Here is my literal translation of these verses:

¹²Who is this, the man fearing YHVH? He will teach/shoot him [in] the way he should choose.

¹³His soul shall lodge in good, and his seed shall possess [the] land.

¹⁴The confidential conversation of YHVH [is given] to ones fearing Him, and to cause them to know [His] covenant.

In my last two posts, I commented on verses 12&13. Since the subject continues to be “ones fearing the Lord” I’m keeping the verses together.

This time, so far, there’s nothing about the verse that “jumps out” at me. But there are a couple of thoughts I want to record.

First of all, many versions translate the first phrase of verse 14 as “the secret of the Lord.” As I will relate, that is not a bad choice, but I feel that, up front, it is kind of obscure. When I read “secret of the Lord,” I definitely struggle to put my finger on exactly what that might mean. The word translated “secret” is the Hebrew word “sod” (rhymes with “toad”). Sod properly refers to a couch, then to a circle of friends sitting together talking or discussing, then it means intimate conversation. It can refer, for instance, to the counsel of a king as he gathers his generals and discusses a plan of battle, or the private discussions and advice given by a counselor, or the intimate knowledge shared by a friend. The basic idea of the word is the idea of confidentiality. It pictures discussions or knowledge given only to those within a circle of confidence. No one else knows. One must have some kind of unique relationship with the provider in order to be brought into that circle of confidence. Understanding all of that, as I said above, I suppose translating it “secret” is okay. But I chose “confidential conversation” because I feel that more adequately rounds out the intent of the word.

That also seems to me to be the import of the passage – to add this “confidence” as another benefit to be enjoyed by those who “fear the Lord.” In this case, we are told that those “fearing the Lord” are the recipients of personal knowledge not given to others. It makes perfect sense. Anytime we enter into a personal relationship, it means we will be privy to knowledge unavailable to others. It is one of the honors of genuine friendship or relationship, to be brought into another person’s “confidence,” to have them share their “secrets.” I suppose it is safe to say we know when we have gone beyond mere “acquaintance” when another person starts telling us things they don’t tell anyone else. So it is with God. The rest of the world can go along their merry way, ignoring God, having no desire to know Him, then one of us stumbles along and says, “I want to know You.” We look up to Christ with our dirty emaciated faces, covered in the filth of our sinfulness, barely able to whisper a prayer, and the Captain of our salvation covers us with His blood while His Spirit carries our feeble prayers to the Throne of Grace. There the Father accepts those prayers as a sweet incense, accepts our feeble attempt to love Him, and chooses to count us as someone with whom He can share His confidences. That is, of course, an enormous honor, for which I’m quite sure I am utterly and inadequately grateful. Wow. To be brought into the confidence of the King of kings. Wow. This dirty ignorant clueless peasant invited to sit at the round table of the King of kings. I certainly have nothing valuable to offer Him – except my love. So, I suppose, while others offer the king their sage advice, I’ll just sit here and love Him. I guess if I was a king, I wouldn’t mind that(!). And I will try to listen carefully when He does speak, try to understand the machinations of His fathomless wisdom, try to learn from Him, try to “understand the times” and know what I should do.

Once again, I don’t feel the import of the passage has adequately impressed me. But my prayer at least would be that the Lord would help me throughout my day to genuinely appreciate the privilege and honor I enjoy that the King of kings, my Father, has, is, and will share with me confidences of knowledge hidden from others.

For the record, here are some passages that bear out this idea of the Lord’s “confidences” shared only with His children:

“ Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him. But God has revealed them to us through His Spirit …But the natural man does not receive the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; nor can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned” ( I Cor 2:9-14).

“But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost: In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, Who is the image of God, should shine unto them. For God, Who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ” (II Cor 4:3-6).

“The disciples came to Him and asked, ‘Why do You speak to the people in parables?’ He replied, ‘Because the knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you, but not to them. Whoever has will be given more, and they will have an abundance. Whoever does not have, even what they have will be taken from them’” (Matthew 13:10-12).

Also, a “for whatever it’s worth,” even the infinite worth of Jesus Himself is naturally hidden from our eyes. Isaiah said, “He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to Him,
nothing in His appearance that we should desire Him” (Isaiah 53:2). When the Lord directed Moses how to build the Tabernacle, He filled it with gold and silver, embroidered cloths, and covered it with various beautiful colors. Over it all, however, He placed “dolphin skins,” which term is variously translated, but no doubt it was a final water-shedding skin – with no particular color at all. What did that mean? It meant that from the outside, the Tabernacle would have been a very common looking, unattractive “tent.” Only those who cared to enter in could know or experience the fabulous beauty inside. And only the priests themselves could enter in and see the indescribable beauty of the inner court and finally the Holy of holies. Outside, just another old tent. Inside, the matchless beauties of the Lord’s furnishings.

It has always been true that “the secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him.” The world may hear His voice as a thunder, but His children lean on His breast and enjoy confidential conversations. To them the veil is already rent.

May I today treasure the personal relationship He offers me. May my heart never leave His breast.

Friday Morning Thought

Jeremiah 32:38,39: "They will be My people, and I will be their God. I will give them singleness of heart and action, so that they will always fear Me for their own good and the good of their children after them."

Oh for "singleness of heart and action" to always do right ... especially if in any possible way my life can mean blessing to my children. Lord help us.

Psalm 25:12,13 – The Blessing of ‘Good’

Here is my literal translation of these verses:

¹²Who is this, the man fearing YHVH? He will teach/shoot him [in] the way he should choose.

¹³His soul shall lodge in good, and his seed shall possess [the] land.

In my last post, I recorded my thoughts regarding verse 12. Verse 13 continues expressing blessings that come to the man who fears the Lord.

The beginning of verse 13 says “His soul shall lodge in good …” Spurgeon notes, “He who fears God has nothing else to fear.”

Then the latter half says, “His seed shall possess [the] land.” Barnes observes, “Next to our care concerning our souls is our care concerning our seed, and God has a blessing in store for the generation of the upright … their children shall fare the better for their prayers when they are gone.”

Those two quotes pretty much sum up my thoughts.

But a few technical details:

I think it significant that the verb in the first phrase is “lodge,” not “dwell,” which is probably the more common translation. There is a Hebrew word yashab which means “to dwell, settle, remain” and carries the idea of a settled existence. That word corresponds to the Greek verb oikeo (an oikos is a house). But yashab is not the word here. It is lavan or lun, which means literally “to lodge, to spend the night.” The Hebrew word for an inn is malon, where the last three Hebrew letters are the same as the verb lun. The Greek word that corresponds to lun is aulizomai, which means “to lodge, to bivouac, to pass the night in a place” and the Greek word aulai refers to the unroofed courtyard in the middle of a typical oriental house. In the Septuagint, aulizomai is the Greek word selected to translate lun in this verse. Both the Hebrew lun and the Greek aulizomai are words expressing a sense of transience, contingency, impermanence, even uncertainty, as compared to yashab or oikeo, which express settled permanence. My conclusion is that the first phrase of this verse should at least express some sense of transience rather than settled existence, and so I translate it, “His soul shall lodge in good, ...”

Someone will object that I’m splitting hairs, but, as always, my answer is that this is the Word of God. My first goal in studying is to do my very best to understand exactly what He has said (and what He has not said). With that (hopefully) crystal clear in my mind, then I feel free and confident to suggest translations, meanings, applications, even extrapolations and interpolations. But first we need to be precise. Just in case someone reads this and still thinks I’m trifling, is it not true that you wish people were more careful to understand what you say? Is it not a common grief that people listen carelessly to your words, then run off and inaccurately report to others you said this or that? How much more important must it be to listen carefully to God, to spend the extra few minutes trying to be sure I understand exactly what He has said (and not said)?

Anyway … case in point: One commentator suggested that this first phrase refers to the believer’s eternal dwelling in Heaven, “His soul shall dwell in good, …” It is true that believers’ souls will dwell in good for all eternity. Even sweetly true. But would you not agree that, understanding the difference between lun and yashab, that is not at all likely the Lord’s meaning here? Once again, the word chosen expresses some sense of contingency or transience. That being the case, it has to refer somehow to our earthly existence. In Heaven there will be no transience, only settled security. Only here (and only here(!)) is a believer’s bliss transient.

So somehow it is true that, while living in this world, a believer (the man who fears the Lord) will lodge (transiently) in good. Being completely frank with one another, doesn’t that rather perfectly express our experience? I do enjoy “good” here. The Lord is good. He does good things for me. He provides me with good. But even as I enjoy a “good,” I’m very aware that enjoyment here is temporary. I can be sitting comfortably in my chair counting my blessings only to have one phone call shatter it all and leave me reeling and struggling to once again see the “good.” Yes? God is good. I’ve been born again. I’m His child. But I still live in a threatening world. And, as if demonic hosts and an evil world system weren’t enough, I have my own sin nature always working overtime to kill me. Yes, as a believer here on earth, I fully expect to enjoy the good things of the Lord, but I also know reality says to enjoy them with an open hand. While logically I “dwell” in good, experientially I “lodge” in it.

I wonder why it is “His soul shall lodge in good, …” Why “soul”? The mention of the word is probably what sent the one commentator suggesting the verse was referring to eternity. I don’t think David is meaning to distinguish “soul” from body. Hebrew isn’t usually that technical. I would rather think the more common Hebrew use of the word is to express man in the totality of his existence. “The Lord breathed into him the breath of life and the man became a living soul.” I would rather think that is the idea. “Who is the man who fears the Lord? His whole being, the totality of his existence, every corner of his life shall lodge in good.” As discussed above, this is not to say he doesn’t know pain and heartache. But that said, still there’s no corner of his life where he doesn’t experience the good of the Lord. I must hold His “good” things with an open hand, but, when they come, they touch every corner of my being.

And it is “good.” Back in verses 7&8, David said, “… remember me, in answer to Your goodness, Lord. Good and upright is the Lord …” Some versions translate it “ease,” “his soul shall dwell in ease.” I don’t care for that translation. It is limiting the simple word “good” to only one small expression of its meaning. And, if I may add, I don’t even think the translation, “His soul shall dwell in ease” communicates the meaning of the verse. Where it is going is this: The Lord is good. It is His very nature to be good, to do good. That’s precisely why one will “lodge in good” if he tries to walk with God. The Lord is good. To walk in Antarctica is to be cold, because it is cold. To walk in the Sahara is to be hot, because it is hot. To walk in the rain is to get wet, because it is wet. To walk with God is to “lodge in good” because He is good. It is not a cliché: The Lord is good. Our minds need to settle on the Lord’s goodness like a fence post in concrete, like a spike in a wall. Even when it seems we are only “lodging” in good, yet we must fix our thoughts on His goodness. The Lord is good. All that He does is good. He can only do me good, because He is good. If Eve had not doubted God’s goodness (… the Lord knows [there’s something He’s holding out on …]”, she would never have reached out and taken the fruit. And you and I would not sin except in some way we think there’s something “better” out there that God is holding back from us. We must settle our hearts upon His goodness.

And speaking of good, the Lord really knows the very deepest recesses of our hearts – what is the good He mentions in this verse? “His seed shall possess the land.” Our children. As Barnes noted, “Next to our care concerning our souls is our care concerning our seed, and God has a blessing in store for the generation of the upright … their children shall fare the better for their prayers when they are gone.”

Their children. Barnes is right. I certainly want to spend eternity in heaven. But I feel in my heart that right next to that (and even completely overlapping it) is my care for my children. To the very deepest recesses of my soul I feel that as long as they fare well, my soul is satisfied. I wish the best for the rest of the world, but I can think of no greater “good” the Lord can do for me than to “know my children walk in truth,” that they are blessed, happy, that they marry well. I have said before and I still think it true: If I could know that all my children will walk with God and be blessed and all my grandchildren and their children after them will walk with God and be blessed, I could simply die today and be gone. My work would be “done” here. In a sense my soul’s deepest desire to live at all is for whatever opportunity I might have to do my children good. The language “shall possess the land” is exactly the same wording for Israel’s “possessing the land” and I would suggest David’s intent is to paint that same picture. In a Hebrew mind there could have been no greater blessing than to know his children would live on in the Promised Land. And I can think of no greater good the Lord could do for me than to see that my children live on in the Promised Land of the Lord’s amazing good.

The Lord is good. All that He does is good. He has promised to always do me good.

May I live like I believe it today. May I enjoy all these privileges. May my soul know it is “lodging in good” and may my children lodge in that same goodness all the days of their lives. Now that’s blessing.

Psalm 25:12 – Choosing. Hmmm.

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

^“Who is this, the man fearing YHVH? He will teach/shoot him [in] the way he should choose.

K&D makes an interesting observation: “Among all the blessings which fall to the lot of him who fears God, the first place is given to this, that God raises him above the vacillation and hesitancy of human opinion.” Calvin makes a similar observation: “…in almost all our affairs we are held in suspense and doubt, unless God appear to show us the way.”

Certainly “the way he should choose” is a salient topic for discussion. It seems to me (and I suspect I’m typical) that most of my life I have spent in a quandary over some (or many) decision(s) I felt I needed to make.

I would agree with K&D that somewhere near the top of my list of blessings has been the freedom of knowing what is right. We seem to live in the age of  the “vacillation and hesitancy of human opinion.” Actually one should probably say “opinions” – plural, which is precisely the problem. Everybody has an opinion. Everybody thinks they know “the way.” Everybody writes a new book.

But first, a few technical details: “fear the Lord” – people argue whether this means simply “reverence” or actually to be afraid of Him. Of course today, “to be afraid of Him" is politically incorrect, so we have to run to the “reverence” definition. Personally, I think they’re both true and what it comes down to is consequences. We live in a world of truth and consequences. If you do what’s right, in the long run (at least) you will be blessed. If you do what’s wrong, you will suffer for it. I think we see particularly in the book of Proverbs that the man who “fears the Lord” is a man who has figured this out. God runs the universe. He is the Law-giver. He says what is right and what is wrong. A wise person is okay with that. And a wise person lives very aware that his choices every day will either enjoy God’s blessings or suffer His consequences. If I don’t do right for any other reason, I’ll do right because I’m afraid of the consequences – I fear the Lord. I think what people fail to see is that it is not a servile, groveling fear. I love Him. He loves me. I don’t doubt that. But His rod is very painful and He loves me too much not to draw it out and use it on me when I need it. So is that reverence? Yeah, I think so. But it is also fear. Once again, I think when one ponders the “fear of the Lord,” “consequences” is the word to keep in mind in the middle of it all.

Another detail to note is the word I translated “teach/shoot.” This is the same “to teach” synonym we observed in verse 8: “…therefore He will teach/shoot sinners in the way.”  To repeat some of what I said there:  This is the Hebrew word yarah. The root word means literally “to throw” or “to shoot” with a strong sense of control by the subject. It is the idea of someone shooting an arrow, but it cannot be randomly; it is the idea of shooting the arrow at a very specific target. In the Hebrew way of painting mental pictures, the same word becomes one of the synonyms for “to teach.” Certainly a good teacher knows why they’re teaching their students, they know exactly what they want them to learn, and so their teaching is seriously like shooting an arrow at a target. And so the Lord, the Master Teacher, “will teach/shoot sinners in the way.” His intent is in no way ambiguous or unclearly defined. He picks them up, aims them carefully at the target and sends them down the path of learning. Now in verse 12 we learn one of the benefits to be enjoyed by those who fear the Lord is the assurance that “He will teach/shoot him in the way he should choose.”

Finally, I don’t always comment on the “other” interpretations offered, usually because I personally don’t think they have merit and I don’t want to spend the time. In this case, though, I do want to note a couple of things, including the NIV translation: “Who, then, are those who fear the LORD? He will instruct them in the ways they should choose”.  Sometimes I am amazed at what a good job the NIV does of bringing out the meaning of a verse. And then there are the other times. I am afraid, in their determination to make the Bible readable, the NIV translators sometimes simply took way too much liberty with their translation. Many, many times as I study the Greek or Hebrew, I find it shocking how they just took it on themselves to seemingly ignore the text. This verse is one of those cases, in my humble opinion. It is not “those.” There is no plural whatsoever in the subject. It is literally, “Who [is] this, the man fearing YHVH?” I could not possibly, in good conscience translate this “those” and publish it as if it were a faithful translation of God’s Word. Further, the NIV translates the last phrase as “He will instruct them in the ways they should choose”. Again, there’s no “them/they” and no plural of “way.” I don’t know where they are getting their plurals from. Someone may argue I’m being petty. But this is the Word of God. Going back to our previous discussion, I would think there would be a little fear in such an endeavor – and certainly a fear that would restrain me from arbitrarily changing things like this.

Finally, should we translate it, “the way he should choose” or, as some do, “the way chosen for him” or even “the way He chooses?” There certainly is no textual basis, I don’t think, for “the way chosen for him.” I don’t know where that is even coming from. As far as whether it is “he” or “He,” I don’t know if it really makes any practical difference, since the whole point is that the man who fears the Lord wants to choose what God chooses. I think you can use either. So one might run across either and think it is a big deal to decide which it should be. But I’m saying I don’t think so. I want to choose what God chooses. The more the better those two are indistinguishable in my life.

So then. With all that said. As I related above, it seems I’ve spent the better part of my life in one quandary after another wanting to know “the way I should choose.” One of the blessings of knowing the Lord has been, in fact, knowing “the way I should choose.” He has certainly taught/shot me many, many times. But then there is now. It seems like my life lately has become a labyrinth, a cluttered snarl of too many questions for which I don’t have answers. The promise, “He will teach/shoot him [in] the way he should choose,” feels almost like a taunt or a tease right now. I am in my usual quandary(s) but right now it seems there are a record number of them weighing on me all at once, that they have remained quandaries way too long, that they are beginning to snowball on me, and though I cry out for direction, though I spend this time in the Word trying to “listen,” one day just turns into another and still I don’t know “the way I should choose.”

I’ve been here before. It’s just never been this bad.

It is to the point I feel tormented by it all. I feel wearied by the confusion. I read the promise, “He will teach/shoot him [in] the way he should choose,” and again it feels almost like a taunt or a tease right now.

Time for faith. Simply believe. Wait/hope. “Good and upright is the Lord, therefore He will teach/shoot sinners in the way.” He certainly is good and upright. I certainly am a sinner. He’s the One Who said, “Seek and ye shall find.” I need to keep on “seeking” and let Him orchestrate the “finding.”

So I will go on waiting. “There is a time and a season for everything, though a man’s misery weighs heavily upon him” (Eccl 8:6). Time for another Habakkuk: “I will stand at my watch …; I will look to see what He will say to me, …”(2:1).

Today I can love God and love people whether or not I have my own questions answered. Today, whatever comes, I can sincerely try to “let love and faithfulness never leave me.” Today I should be sensitive to the fact that probably everyone I encounter is suffering through their own quandaries. Perhaps a new measure of gentleness is on order. Today I can choose to simply trust my Father. I just definitely need His grace and strength to do it.

But it hurts. A lot.

Wait/hope.

Even so, Father, for so it seemed good in Thy sight. May it be unto me according to Thy word.

Psalm 25:11 – Him and Me – Part 2

Once again, here is my literal translation of this verse:

“In answer to Your name YHVH, even forgive my perversion because it [is] great.”

As I wrote in my last blog, there are actually two stratospheric points that stand out to me in this verse. The first concerned Him, the second concerns me.  In the last blog, Part 1, I recorded how I’m amazed at the enormity of God’s forgiving heart. David asks forgiveness because His sin is so great. I’m still amazed.

But then there’s me, Part 2. In this Psalm, David is clearly moved to pray because of some kind of pain occurring in his life. In verse 2, he prayed, “Let me not be ashamed; Let not my enemies triumph over me.” Then later in the Psalm, in verses 16-20, he prays,

“Turn Yourself to me, and have mercy on me,
         For I am desolate and afflicted.
 The troubles of my heart have enlarged;
         Bring me out of my distresses!
 Look on my affliction and my pain, …

Consider my enemies, for they are many;
         And they hate me with cruel hatred.
 Keep my soul, and deliver me; …”

Clearly David is hurting in some big ways. And clearly he’s doing the right thing, bringing them to God.

Yet, in our verse 11, he says, “Forgive my sin, for it is great.”

(Once again, remember that, in the Hebrew the “it” is emphatic).

And, of course, this isn’t the only place he laments his sinfulness. In verses 7 and 18 he also raises the issue.

Here is my thought. I have no problem seeing my suffering is great. But do I really see my sin as great?

As I read this Psalm and as I pray, what fills my heart is the suffering. It’s almost like my sin is more of a factual assent on my part. “Oh, yeah … and while You’re at it, taking away all my troubles and filling my life with blessings, while You’re at it, forgive my sins too.”

Hmmmm.

Probably don’t need to say more. It’s just that those two things awed me as I began to understand the verse: the enormity of His forgiving heart and the apparently minimal view I have of my sinfulness. My sufferings and pain are gargantuan to me. I’m not so sure my sin is.

Parting thought. On the one hand, I want to be cognizant of my sin and, if I need to, I pray the Lord would help me to see it more clearly. On the other hand, I’m wondering if there isn’t a little mercy involved here. I wonder if the Lord really let us see the full enormity of our sin, would it be so desponding we couldn’t bear it? As I’ve said before, there is also a sense in which the memories of my (many) sins down through the years haunt me incessantly (mercilessly) and only add to my “suffering” in this world. What if I saw them more?

I think this is one I’ll leave in the Lord’s hands. If in fact my heart is in any way minimizing my sins, I pray the Lord’s help to see them more clearly, that perhaps I would strike a better balance between the recognition of my sins and that of my suffering. On the other hand, I’ll let Him choose the extent of that recognition. Maybe the constant haunting is enough. Maybe it is enough to keep me among the anavim. I don’t think I really know. Again, I’ll leave that call up to Him.

In the meantime, I’d rather focus on knowing “what is the breadth and length and depth and height of the love of Christ, which passes knowledge.” (!)

“Thou hast bid me gaze upon Thee,

And Thy beauty fills my soul;

For by Thy transforming power,

Thou hast made me whole”.

Psalm 25:11 – Him and Me -- Part 1

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

“In answer to Your name YHVH, even forgive my perversion because it [is] great.”

And so we come to verse 11. I suspect this verse is the middle of the Psalm, perhaps the apex of a chiasm. Commentators for centuries have noted that this verse seems “out of place” in the middle of this long series (vv 8-15) of statements of faith about God. I suspect its very abruptness was deliberate, that it is part of the overall logical structure of the Psalm itself. Obviously, the structure is of significance, seeing this is an acrostic Psalm. As I study along, I’m gathering lots of mental notes (particularly of repetitions) but I will wait until I’ve studied it all before looking hard at its structure.

At any rate, since I strongly suspect this is the middle or apex, I will go ahead and presume the verse is highly significant to the overall meaning of the Psalm. There are actually two stratospheric points that stand out to me in this verse. In this blog, I’ll record my thoughts concerning the first, and call it "Part 1."

But before I record those thoughts, five grammatical observations: First, the opening phrase, “In answer to Your name YHVH” is structurally identical to the “in answer to Your goodness YHVH” in verse 7. Interesting. Second, in the Hebrew, a conjunctive vav precedes the verb “forgive.” I translated it “even” but only because I didn’t know what else to do with it. It seems an odd place for a vav. I guess for now I’ll just note it. Might be significant in the structure of the Psalm, especially if this verse itself is the middle or apex. Third, the word translated “forgive” is the Hebrew word salak, which is only ever used of God’s forgiveness of man. Hebrew had many words for “forgive” but this one was never used of people forgiving each other. Its occurrence is entirely of divine initiative. Again, interesting. Fourth, I think it worth noting that the word “it” is emphatic in the Hebrew: “Forgive my perversion, for it is great.” Last of all, I note the Hebrew word I have translated “perversion.” There are several Hebrew words for sin. This one in particular means literally “to be twisted.” I could translate it “my twistedness.” However, I think “perversion” is probably the best English word to express the idea, as long as one doesn’t necessarily limit it to some kind of sexual connotation. It is just “twistedness” or “perversion” in whatever way I have taken God’s good creation and wickedly contorted it. The word sees God’s perfect beautiful creation and it is as if someone took hold of the movie screen and twisted it. The beautiful picture is still there, it’s just “twisted.” It’s contorted. Things are out of place. Redemption, in one sense, is about smoothing out all those wrinkles and restoring the picture to God’s intended beauty.

So what do I learn in this Psalm?

First of all, Him: I am moved to marvel at God in a way I can’t say I’ve ever quite comprehended before. Note the “because.” David asks God to forgive his perversion because it is great. Would not human nature be to say, “Please forgive my sin … it was just a small one You know, and, uh, I was really tired at the time, and, uh, I was confused, and I didn’t really mean it, and, uh …?” Do we not naturally feel it important to convince others that they should forgive us because, after all, it wasn’t that bad? Yet David says, “Forgive my sin, for it is great”(!). And, as I noted above, he even says the “it” emphatically. No holds barred. No pulled punches. Just lay it out there for all its heinous ugly inexcusable evil. It is great. It is almost like suggesting it might be unforgivable(!).

But then I note this forgiveness is “in answer to Your name.” “Name” in the OT, of course, means something like “reputation.” Your “name” expresses who you are. David wants God to forgive his great sin in answer to Who God is. And Who is He? Exodus 34:6,7: “And the Lord passed by before him and proclaimed, ‘The Lord, the Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abundant in goodness and faithfulness, keeping love for thousands, forgiving perversion and rebellion and sin …’”

He is a God of forgiveness. It is His nature to forgive. He forgives because He is Himself forgiving(!). He, in fact, proclaims that is Who He is. Perhaps that is why David chose the word for “forgive” that can only come from God. Only God can be moved to forgiveness by showing Him the greatness of our offense(!). David understood this about God. He knew Him. He knew God. It probably sounds reckless to say this, but, when dealing with God, it is in a sense true that the greater the sin the more He is moved to forgive it. It is actually the more to His glory to forgive greater sin. Jonathan Edwards said, “It is the honor of Christ to save the greatest sinners, when they come to Him, as it is the honour of a physician that he cures the most desperate diseases or wounds.”

I don’t think I’ve ever quite seen it this way. Or at least the enormity of it. God is Himself a well of forgiveness. The deeper I must draw only magnifies the greatness of the well.

Wow. He is so amazing. There seriously is no end of knowing Him. To know Him better is to realize His perfections only run deeper than I’ve ever known before. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me. Wow. This is, as Spurgeon described the last verse, another “pearl for a child’s neck,” of course. It doesn’t make me want to sin more, but rather so fills me with awe and gratitude, it makes me want to sin less. But what an amazing comfort, to know that forgiveness is not something God does; it is Who He is. That is why no sin is too great. My evil little heart is desperately wicked and deceitful above all things. It is a veritable well of corruption shockingly capable of the most unimaginable and unspeakable evil. I want that it should be redeemed and sanctified and given entirely to Him. Yet, when that evil heart gets out of control there is no sin it can churn out but what I may find forgiveness in the great loving heart of my saving God. Wow.

I need that.

 “… because”

“Jesus, I am resting, resting, in the joy of what Thou art.

I am finding out the greatness of Thy loving heart.”

Psalm 25:10 – Pondering the Qualifications

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

“ All the paths of YHVH [are] love and faithfulness to ones keeping His covenant and His testimonies/warnings.”

In my last post, I enjoyed pondering the truth that “All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness.” One could read the second half of this verse and be either encouraged or discouraged: It limits all the aforementioned blessings to “ones keeping His covenant and His testimonies/warnings.” At one and the same time I feel my own heart lifted and crushed; crushed because I’m too aware I “don’t qualify,” but encouraged knowing I do. “Ones keeping His covenant?” Me? Hardly. My heart rushes on to the very next verse, “For Thy name’s sake, O Lord, pardon mine iniquity; for it is great.” If the Lord was to shout, “Everyone who keeps My covenant, line up over here,” I could only hang my head in shame. But at one and the same time, my heart knows it is covered in the blood of Jesus. Like Daniel, I say, “So I was left alone, …; I had no strength left, my face turned deathly pale and I was helpless. Then I heard Him speaking, and as I listened to Him… a hand touched me and set me trembling on my hands and knees. He said, ‘Daniel, you who are highly favored, … do not be afraid, … peace, be strong!’ When He spoke to me, I was strengthened …” Those words always amaze me as they so perfectly desribe my own relationship with God. For myself, I don’t know how He puts up with me. Sometimes I don’t know how I put up with myself. Yet still He calls me. My heart then is deeply aware that even my ability to respond to Him is a strength He gives me. His strength is made perfect in my weakness. And coming to Him I find myself not just tolerated but deeply loved. “Daniel, you who are highly favored …” A redeemed sinner walking with God.

I suppose this “ones keeping His covenant” is simply one of the paradoxes of redeemed sinners walking with God. On the one hand, the qualification is quite absolute: “to ones keeping His covenant and His testimonies/warnings.” You either do or you don’t.  That would seem painfully clear. Yet, David’s very next words are, “For Thy name’s sake, O Lord, pardon mine iniquity; for it is great.” Back in verse 7 he was asking, “Remember not the sins of my youth or my rebellions.” Obviously, “ones keeping His covenant” is another name for the “humble ones” in verse 9, the anavim, the crushed ones, who, in that verse, are given discernment and trained in His way. Back in verse 8, it very clearly states “He teaches sinners in His ways.”

Yet the standard is still absolute, “…to ones keeping His covenant.”

Again, I think it simply a paradox of redeemed sinners walking with God. I feel like Paul, “The Law is good and the commandment holy … but I find another law at work in my members.” I agree with God. His standard should be absolute. We should keep His covenant. And we should only expect His blessings if we do. I want to do that. I intend to do that. Yet I don’t. And I think that is where the blood of Jesus enters. I want to. I try to. Yet I fail. And the blood of Jesus cleanses me from all sin. So I get up and try again. I want to. I try to. Yet I fail. And the blood of Jesus cleanses me from all sin. So I get up and try again … It is He Himself Who beckons me to “…come boldly before the throne of grace, that I may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”

So I guess I would conclude that while the qualifications given in the verse are quite stark and absolute, yet only a redeemed sinner can really understand it. It can be understood only by those who can read it with hearts already strengthened and sheltered by the forgiveness and love of redemption.

Interestingly, Spurgeon said: “Yet this is not a general truth to be trampled upon by swine, it is a pearl for a child’s neck. Gracious souls, by faith resting upon the finished work of the Lord Jesus, keep the covenant of the Lord, and, being sanctified by the Holy Spirit, they walk in His testimonies.”

Even so, come, Lord Jesus!

Psalm 25:10 – Enjoying Blessing and Passing It On

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

“ All the paths of YHVH [are] love and faithfulness to ones keeping His covenant and His testimonies/warnings.”

“Paths” is the same word from verse 4, “Cause me to know Your ways, O Lord, and train me in Your paths …” I observed there that the Hebrew words for “way” and “path” (derek and arak) and basically synonyms. However, Adam Clarke notes that arak particularly signifies the ruts and wear observed where the ground has been frequently traveled, hence the English rendering of “path”.

And so, what are these rutted frequently traveled ways of the Lord? Love and faithfulness. Love is again the Hebrew word hesed, while faithfulness is the word emet. We could translate emet as simply "truth” and say “All the paths of the Lord are love and truth.” In English we might object that there is a significant difference between “faithfulness” and “truth.” However, that objection is born of our culture’s hopelessly obligate linear mentality. To understand, one has to get into the Hebrew “picture” mentality, to see the Lord’s way as “truth” in a picture. He is truth. All that He does is true. He is a true one. All He says is truth. You can count on what He says. He keeps His promises. He’ll always be there doing what He’s supposed to do, when He’s supposed to do it, the way He said He’d do it, doing what He should do. Basically, in Hebrew, you can take the word “truth,” throw it in the air, spin it every which way, and no matter what it means, you’ll find “All the paths of the Lord are truth.”

So, how can we translate that picture into English? Well, in one sense we cannot. English, being the language of a linear culture, simply cannot express the breadth and depth of words spoken in a picture language. It’s like we’d have to say all of the different ways “truth” can be true. But then it would take paragraphs to translate their sentences. Even in English we acknowledge “a picture’s worth a thousand (English) words.” (!) So what to do? I think “faithfulness” is probably the best single English word we can use here (while tearfully admitting its inadequacy).  I guess I’m suggesting, that where His way being “truth” becomes practical to us is seen particularly in His faithfulness.

Back in verse 9, the anavim are assured the Lord will teach them His ways. Now in verse 10, those same poor “crushed ones” are being assured those ways are good ways – that they are love and faithfulness – that as we go on being crushed day after day, year after year, we may rest assured that whatever the Lord is up to, it is always love and faithfulness to us. His rutted paths are love and faithfulness. Everywhere He goes, everything He does, He’s treading out a path of love for us “crushed ones.” He is being faithful to us “crushed ones.” We can count on Him – though all we see and feel is the crushing … day in, day out, year in, year out. Faith in His love and faithfulness fuels the hope that keeps us going and, not insignificantly, enables us to ourselves live out love and faithfulness to Him and others.

Which leads to my next thought: Perhaps now I’m extrapolating, but I think it enormously important that His love and faithfulness enables mine. As it says to us in Prov 3:3, “Let love and faithfulness never leave you …” Is it not true that “love and faithfulness” are two of the most essential ingredients to any real relationship? Add in forgiveness (since we all fail at love and faithfulness), and do you not have the makings of a really good relationship? Love, faithfulness, and forgiveness.

I certainly long to be loved, to have someone else actually like me. I certainly need others to be faithful to me, to be dependable to do the things I’m counting on them for. And I certainly need a big dose of forgiveness for what a lousy job I myself do at being loving and faithful. But then I turn the gun of conviction on my own heart and try to realize that people around me are no different. They too need my love, my faithfulness, my forgiveness. Again, are these not the very essentials of real relationships?

No wonder Proverbs says, “Let love and faithfulness never leave you …”

I guess my prayer is that, as I walk through my day today, I will remember that “All the paths of the Lord are love and faithfulness” and be encouraged to bear up under whatever I face, to love Him and trust Him no matter what. Then I hope that, as I enjoy the blessing of His love and faithfulness to me, I will in turn sincerely try to show love and faithfulness to everyone around me, that I will sincerely try to rise above my own self-consumed fetish and seek the best interest of those around me, try to genuinely care about them, listen to them, be aware of their needs, pray for them, be kind and patient with them; and be faithful to them, to do what I said I’d do, do what I should do for them, the things they’re depending on me for, to be “true” to them whatever that means. And again, I need to throw in forgiveness, since no one else is doing any better job than me of pulling it all off.

Lord, it is true that all the paths you tread out are love and faithfulness. Thank you. I need You to be that way. Help me to be the same to others. They need me to be that way. Help us all.

Psalm 25:10 – On Being Amazed and a Naughty Little Heart

Here is my literal translation of this verse:

“ All the paths of YHVH [are] love and faithfulness to ones keeping His covenant and His testimonies/warnings.”

As I am studying this verse, I pause and think to myself, “Here I am again: Literally nursing on the amazing depths of blessings I find. Another string of pearls. Another unexpected chest of unthinkably delightful treasures. Already I don’t want this Psalm to end. Already I can see I’ll get to the end and wish it didn’t. Tearfully I’ll be saying, ‘Good-bye, old friend,’ as I move on to some other passage.” What a treasure chest is God’s Word. I still find myself, after more than 30 years of studying it, mourning when I finish one passage or book or Psalm, not imagining that I could ever enjoy such blessing again, only to find the next study a completely new treasure chest of blessing! I open the new lid, begin to fondle its precious truths, and, once again, don’t want it to end. Oh the depths of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God. In Jesus truly are found all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge!

Then I find myself ashamed of my doubting heart – that there is deep within me some kind of evil unbelief as I open a new passage – a doubt that I’ll find anything there particularly helpful(!). It’s happened again and again and again, this opening of treasure chests, this doubting in my heart, only quickly to be overwhelmed by His amazing grace. I think of the poor silly Samaritan woman who foolishly said to Jesus, “But sir, the well is deep and you have nothing to draw with!” Jesus??? A well too deep??? Nothing to draw with?????  Her problem was she had no idea just how infinitely deep the well was; nor did she even begin to comprehend His limitless power to reach down into that well and draw out blessings beyond her wildest imagination.

Ah, naughty little heart of mine. Born of the same infirmity as hers.  But being amazed is part of worship. He is amazing. So, naughty little heart or not, we’ll just keep opening the treasure chest and enjoy being amazed!

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.”

Psalm 25:7b-8 – More Thoughts

Once again, here is my literal translation of these verses:

“ According to Your loving-kindness may You remember me, in accordance with Your goodness, YHVH.

 Good and upright [is] YHVH, therefore He will teach sinners in the way.”

Here are some miscellaneous thoughts from these verses:

I like the phrase “in accordance with Your goodness.” The “in accordance with” in Hebrew is really literally more like “in answer to” or “in response to.” I think there’s a measure of encouragement even in that slight difference, from “in accordance with” to “in response to.” “In accordance with” is sort of sterile. It’s like God’s goodness is sort of a yardstick and we measure against it. “In answer to” just seems more personal to me. It makes God’s goodness like something living and active, which of course it is. “Remember me, in answer to Your goodness.” I like that.

Another interesting word is the “upright” of verse 8, “Good and upright [is] the Lord.” The word in Hebrew is literally “straight,” which I think is really cool. I can’t use that as my translation since saying someone is “straight” has other implications in English. In English, we can say a person is “crooked” and that is exactly the opposite of this Hebrew word, just like “crooked” would naturally be the opposite of “straight”. We’ve all heard of the man who was so crooked, when he died they couldn’t bury him, they had to screw him into the ground.(!) Being “crooked” is a really bad thing. No one likes a man who’s crooked. But in English, to be “straight” isn’t the opposite; however, in Hebrew it is. God is not crooked. He is exactly the opposite. He’s “straight” in the sense that He’s true; He’s a straight-shooter; there’s nothing “bent” about Him; you can totally count on Him; He’s always exactly what He should be. That’s what the Hebrew word means. As often is the case, there’s just no way to say that in English without adding a lot of explanation. But I love the picture. The Lord is good and straight. People frequently accuse Him of not being good, that somehow sin and its consequences are His fault. But they also accuse him of being crooked. We don’t say it in those words, but that is what they’re thinking, that He is capricious, that it’s hard telling what He might do to them next. The fact is He is neither. He is good and He is straight. He’s totally dependable.

Even the word translated “therefore” is interesting here: “…therefore He will teach sinners in the way.”   It is actually a translation of two Hebrew words tied together. What is interesting to me is that one of those words alone would have communicated “therefore,” so why compound them? I didn’t find anything in my resources. I would surmise that, as is almost always the case, compounding of terms is intended to communicate some kind of intensity or added emphasis. If that is the case then we need to read the line placing a mental emphasis on the “therefore.” Try it: “Good and upright [is] the Lord, therefore He will teach sinners in the way.” It’s almost like saying, “ Of course the Lord is good and upright, therefore, duh!, of course He will do it!” When the Lord is involved the therefore gets underlined! It’s just more of His faithfulness to be Who He is, Who He said He’d be, that He keeps His very great and precious promises. His “therefores” could always be underlined. But, for whatever reason, that is exactly what I think David does here. Something to ponder, I think.

Another interesting word is the “teach” in “…therefore He will teach sinners in the way.” Back in verses 4&5, the “to teach” Hebrew word was lamad which was more literally “to train” or “to disciple.” This is a different word for “teach,” the word yarah. The root word means literally “to throw” or “to shoot” with a strong sense of control by the subject. It is the idea of someone shooting an arrow, but it cannot be randomly; it is the idea of shooting the arrow at a very specific target. In the Hebrew way of painting mental pictures, the same word becomes one of the synonyms for “to teach.” Now that is definitely cool, is it not? Certainly a good teacher knows why they’re teaching their students, they know exactly what they want them to learn, and so their teaching is seriously like shooting an arrow at a target. And so the Lord, the Master Teacher, “will teach sinners in the way.” His intent is in no way ambiguous or unclearly defined. He picks them up, aims them carefully at the target and sends them down the path of learning.

Interesting that He specifically teaches “sinners.” It is the general Hebrew word for “sinners.” That’s probably a good thing. Not even any special kind of sinners in view here. Just your average run-of-the-mill everyday sinners. Abraham Lincoln once said about common people, “The Lord must have loved common people; he made so many of them!” Well, in view here are just common sinners. That’s good. You and I immediately know we qualify. But then if you stop and ponder the verse it is another amazing grace verse. Think about it: If it was written about us, it would say something like, “He [or she] is good and upright, therefore they will only teach the gifted and promising”. The second we think we’ve risen to something, we easily start thinking we’re above this or that. Not so with the Lord. He teaches sinners. Peter fell to his knees before Jesus and said, “Depart from me, I am a sinful man.” Jesus, of course, did not depart. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance. Instead of departing, He stayed with Simon, trained him, shot him like an arrow, and turned him into Peter, the rock. What this verse is telling us is that it wasn’t just a matter that Jesus chose to do that with Peter. What this verse is telling us is that it is the very nature of God Himself to teach sinners. That is actually another very great and precious promise to build our faith and fuel our prayers!

Finally, it is interesting that He teaches sinners “in the way.” As we studied earlier, a “way” is extremely important. Ways always lead somewhere. To choose one’s way is to choose one’s destination, whether consciously or not. And there really are only two ways in this world, the Lord’s way and any other. To choose the Lord’s way is to live, though I die. To choose any other way is to die, even though I live. But His way doesn’t come naturally to me or you. We must be taught. The bad news is that we are all a bunch of blockheads stumbling along the way to self-destruction. The good news is, for those who will but look up out of the stench and filth of their sin, our God is a God Who wants “to teach sinners in the way.” David understood that. That’s why earlier in this Psalm he said, “Cause me to know Your ways …” The leper said to Jesus, “If You are willing, You can make me clean …” And what was Jesus’ response? “I am willing. Be cleaned.” What this verse teaches us is that we don’t need to even question whether He’s willing to teach us His way. Rest assured, “He teaches sinners in the way.” Ask and you shall receive. Seek and you shall find. Knock and it shall be opened unto you.

How much more meaning could you pack into eight Hebrew words?

More fuel for the altarfire!

Psalm 25:7b-8 – Prayer Fuel

Here is my literal translation of these verses:

“ According to Your loving-kindness may You remember me, in accordance with Your goodness, YHVH.

 Good and upright [is] YHVH, therefore He will teach sinners in the way.”

Once again you might note from my “bolding,” the word “good” occurs twice with only the Lord’s name YHVH in between. More on this later.

Verse 7 makes an interesting transition to verse 8, which I think I’m going to find is significant to the structure of the entire Psalm. Verse 7 is clearly a request, a part of the prayer which David has been offering throughout verses 1-7. Verse 8 however is a statement of fact, or should I say, a statement of faith. In fact, as I look ahead, basically from verse 8 through 15, the entire section is made up of statements of faith (with one request in the middle at v11), then David returns to prayer for the rest of the Psalm in verses 16 through 22.

As I have pondered these verses, it struck me that this is a profound combination: prayers and statements of faith. Metaphorically speaking, it occurs to me that faith is actually the fuel that keeps prayer’s altarfire burning. Think about it: Without faith, why pray? Is it not true that the very reason I am praying is because I believe certain facts about God?

David just got done in verse 7 appealing to God to “…remember me, according to Your goodness.” He then asserts, “The Lord is good.” Do you see how the one is a request, a prayer, while the other is a statement of faith? The request would really be meaningless if it were not for the faith(!). If it is not true that God is good, why appeal to His goodness? On the other hand, if I’m assured that He is good, I can appeal to His goodness. I can bring Him requests assuming on that goodness. I’m actually motivated to pray, because He is good.

Here is what I think is significant … and perhaps why David offers prayers for seven verses, makes statements of faith for seven verses (with one request in the middle), then returns to seven verses of prayers. Why the combination? I think it is because it is so easy to lose sight of faith. I actually need to be reminded that God is good, do I not? Especially in the midst of pain or fear or whatever, the problems loom larger and larger, till I can “barely whisper a prayer.” But what will lift my heart and bring me again energetically to the Throne of Grace? Is it not being reminded of the truths of Who God is?

If you’ve stumbled across this blog, I hope you’re following me here. I just think this is enormously important to even realize. It goes even deeper. What are we talking about really? Is it not the promises of God? II Peter 1:4 says God has given us His very great and precious promises “that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world …” Faith, which we said above is the fuel that keeps prayer’s altarfire burning, is built on the promises of God. Faith is the very act of observing a promise of God and believing it to the extent my plans, desires, values are immediately altered. Fueled by those promises and my faith response, I then can look to God confidently in prayer. In fact, that faith moves me to prayer.

This is so cool.

What is also really cool to me to realize is how the opposite is true. If I am praying, but my heart has lost sight of faith, the prayer itself becomes lifeless. “Why pray?” my evil doubting heart asks. “What’s the use?” My head sinks. My heart sinks. Hopelessness and despair begin to overwhelm me. What to do? If I understand what just happened in Psalm 25 from verse 7 to 8, I know exactly what I need. I need to feed again on the promises of God. Seriously. I need to open my Bible and read again Who He is and the promises that I know speak to my issues. Feeding my faith adds fuel to my prayers and will lift my heart out of that despair. Even though it is still incredibly painful, I may still be scared and confused, yet I can pray confidently once again to the “God of my deliverance.”

(For whatever it’s worth, when I refer to the promises of God, in my mind that includes His specific promises (like “All things work together for good …”) along with the statements of the certainty of his character (“The Lord is good …”). Both feed faith).

I put together the following paragraph to draw together these thoughts. Hope it’s encouraging to you:

“Faith is the fuel that keeps prayer’s altarfire burning. Prayer can become but words except it be fueled by the promises of God and the certainty of His character. Pray on, my friend, till you feel your faith falter, then read again the promises of God; allow their kindling to add anew faith to your fire, and see if you do not feel the vigor of your prayers burn brightly once more!”  II Peter 1:4

Pray on, my friends!

Psalm 25:6c-7 – Lots of Remembering

Here is my literal translation of these verses:

“On you I wait/hope all the day.

  Remember Your mercies YHVH and Your loving-kindnesses because they [are] from [the] ages.

  Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellions.

  According to Your loving-kindness may You remember me, in accordance with Your goodness, YHVH.”

As you might note from my “bolding,” the word “remember” occurs three times in these few lines. Repetition is always cause for pause in Hebrew.

Remembering is an interesting thing. The first thing that probably catches all of our eyes is the “Remember not the sins of my youth and my rebellions.” It sort of jumps off the page. I think I’m probably typical if I relate that my “remembering” haunts me. It seems like my memory incessantly conjures up all of my sins and stupidity and bludgeons me mercilessly. It seems seriously to be almost non-stop. I wish I could “remember not the sins of my youth!” But then I guess what hurts is the fear that the rest of the world doesn’t “forget.” I certainly need for those around me to not “remember the sins of my youth.” I cannot be loved unless people choose to not remember my sins. I am keenly aware that my sins hang like a wall of ice ready to cut off every relationship I might have hoped for. They are there. And I certainly don’t forget them. But relationships depend on forgetting.

But then this same boding stands between me and God. I desperately need His help. I desperately need His love and grace. I desperately need Him to answer my croaking prayers. But there are my sins. I’m such an idiot. How He can stand me is itself a grand enigma. But I still need Him. Then I face those times where it seems He isn’t answering my prayers. What is the first thing that comes to mind? My sins. I am confident that the penalty of my sins was paid by Jesus. I know it is true that because of Him there is no way that God could love me more and nothing that could possibly make Him love me less. Yet still, this is a relationship. And my sins do frustrate the intentions of His grace.

What to do? Take it to Him. It’s okay. Tell Him. Lord, I need You to not remember my sins. I can’t forget them. I fear people around me hold them against me. But You. You are the God of my deliverance. I can’t save myself and I can’t even deliver myself. Here am I. I can’t change my past. I can’t promise anything for the future. I just desperately need Your help. Albert Barnes asked, “Who is there that cannot with deep feeling join in this prayer?”

Then it is interesting to go back to the passage and note again that the word “remember” occurs three times. The “sin” thing is only one of the three(!). In the first it is God’s hesed, His loving-kindness that is called to memory. And then David notes that it is “from the ages.” Here is something significant about God. He doesn’t just choose to be loving. He is loving. And He always has been. And He always will be. As we bounce up and down and thrash from side to side, blundering along in our foolishness, He is utterly unaffected and unchanged. He just goes on being our loving God. His love may move Him to draw out His rod and give us a good spanking. Or it may move Him to step into something and rescue us. But regardless of what kind of response we may perceive, He goes on unchanged. He is a Rock of love. His love is “from the ages” or “from eternity.”

The third remember is “Remember me.” Remember Your loving-kindness. Please don’t remember my sins. “May You remember me.” Ah, and so it gets personal again. It’s me and You.

That’s where it should be. All this “remembering” wears me out. I’d rather just sit in His lap, bury my head in His big chest, and enjoy the love and warmth and the security of Him.

The Priority of Love

As I read through and study the Bible I keep running across verses that emphasize the importance of love. In my current study of Psalm 25, David prays, “Lord, show me Your ways…” What is His “way?” I am more and more convinced that it is first of all a way of love.  In younger days I would have agreed with this statement but then I would have been quick to add, “…but it is a holy love!” and felt it important to remind everyone how important it is to “keep the rules.” The truth is that, like a true Pharisee, “keeping the rules” was more important than love. I’m ashamed now that I ever allowed myself to be part of their camp. The Pharisees were Jesus’ most bitter enemies. And why did they hate Him? Because He didn’t “keep the rules.” And what did He do? He loved. But that didn’t even register on the radar screen of their legalism. I want to be like Him, not them. Consider what He Himself says in His Word:

Matthew 22:37-40: Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

John 13:34,35: “A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.  By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

Romans 13:8-10: “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for whoever loves others has fulfilled the law. The commandments, “You shall not commit adultery,” “You shall not murder,” “You shall not steal,” “You shall not covet,” and whatever other command there may be, are summed up in this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Love does no harm to a neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law.”

Galatians 5:6: “…The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.”

Ephesians 5:1,2: “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, …”

Colossians 3:18: “And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.