Waiting in Psalms (Advent 3)
Waiting in Psalms (Advent 3)
I've spent a lot of time in Psalms this year, which is a good thing all round. For today's Advent reflection, I'm going to share some reflections on the language and role of waiting in the Psalms, and the relationship of lament, waiting, and hope. (Psalm numbering is Greek first, then Heb/Eng)
The word ὑπομένειν (hupomenein) occurs 19 times in Psalms (in the Greek version). It's an interesting choice to translate קָוָה (qavah)which means to wait for, especially to endure, patiently await something. BDB conjectures that the Hebrew word had an origin in meaning "twist, stretch, then of tension of enduring, waiting". The Greek is interesting too because there is a perfectly fine non-compound word, μένειν, but the addition of ὑπό suggests something of remaining "under", in a fairly abstract sense, but survive, remaining, persisting, enduring, suffering, etc.. Though, my linguist cap tells me that you shouldn't push the preposition's meaning in a compound verb too far.
Psalm 24 (25)
1 A Psalm. Pertaining to Dauid.
(1) To you, O Lord, I lifted up my soul, (2) O my God.
2 In you I trust; may I not be put to shame,
nor let my enemies deride me.
3 Indeed, none of those who wait for you shall be put to shame;
let those who are wantonly lawless be shamed.
4 Make known to me, O Lord, your ways,
and teach me your paths.
5 Guide me to your truth,
and teach me, because you are God, my deliverer,
and for you I waited all day long.
A New English Translation of the Septuagint (2007), Ps 24.
The odd thing I have found, as I have read Psalms over and over this year, is that within the Psalm itself, we don't wait long. What I mean is this: when we talk about the genre of lament, and psalms of lament, and the kinds of things I have written about here and here - the cry of the heart when things aren't as they should be, the expression of sadness and grief at a world gone awry, the longing for God to set things right - lament as an act isn't about getting answers or giving solutions. It's whole force is in giving space to say "this isn't okay, and it's okay that it's not okay". The whole problem of non-lament, I mean the tendency of our worship and praise and singing and liturgy to be consumed only with celebration and triumphalism, is that it doesn't know how to sit with lament, and it wants us to paper over suffering with "victory".
Which is why it's actually hard to read a Psalm like 12 (13). The psalm moves in 6 short verses to carry us from despair, to entreaty, to hopeful praise. Very few psalms of lament actually keep us in the lament until the end. Psalm 87 (88) is probably the exception, with it's ending "all my friends - darkness"; but even that psalm is answered in the shape of the Psalter by Ps 88 (89).
However, I realised this week that there is a reason that lament psalms do not leave you there in the midst of darkness. They are teaching us that lament is not the end, it's the waiting. And the movement of lament is ultimately, though not precipitously, towards hope. That hope can only be grounded in a God who performs what he promises, rights what is wrong, lifts up those who are downcast, mends what is broken, leads out those in slavery, leads in those from exile, leads home the lost, binds up the broken, and hears the prayers of his people.
That hope, that God will set things right, is meant to be a comfort in the here and now, which is why psalms don't leave you in sorrow - you're not meant to remain in sorrow forever. It's not a promise of quick-fixes though. The generations that perished in slavery in Egypt never saw God's deliverance. The generation that wandered in the desert did not enter the promised land. The generation that went into Exile did not return. The generations that dwelt in the land after the return from exile did not see the Messiah. Some hopes are only realised in eschatological fulfilment - God will be faithful to his promises and his justice and mercy, even if we don't experience and know that in our earthly life. Which is precisely why we need the comfort of hope to sustain life-long lament.
The same verb, ὑπομένειν turns up in the New Testament as well, where it is often (though not always), translated as “endure”; similarly, its cognate noun ὑπομονή (hupomonē) almost always means steadfast waiting, perseverance, patience, endurance. Waiting for something also means a waiting through something. Waiting for the Lord, means enduring through whatever comes, the longing, the yearning, the suffering, the hardships, the long years or the short days or the endless nights; the doubts, the questions, the anxieties, the tears; external difficulties and internal struggles. But, the laments of the Scripture never end in lament, they always turn to joy. It’s not an either/or in the end, while we live, we wait.
And yet, sometimes he does it and we do experience the consolation and the deliverance and the joy. Some experienced the Exodus! Some entered the Land! Some returned from Exile! Some saw the Messiah come! God can and does bring rescue from waiting even in our lives, and when the prayers of our waiting are fulfilled it is glorious, it is joyous, and it calls forth praise and thanksgiving and adoration and worship of God, our Help and our Comfort.
Ὁ δὲ θεὸς τῆς ὑπομονῆς καὶ τῆς παρακλήσεως δῴη ὑμῖν τὸ αὐτὸ φρονεῖν ἐν ἀλλήλοις κατὰ χριστὸν Ἰησοῦν ἵνα ὁμοθυμαδὸν ἐν ἑνὶ στόματι δοξάζητε τὸν θεὸν καὶ πατέρα τοῦ κυρίου ἡμῶν Ἰησοῦ χριστοῦ
Rom 15:5–6.
May the God of Perseverance and Consolation grant you to have unity of mindset, according to Christ Jesus, that together, with one voice, you might glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.