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!