Tag Archives: Psalms

Praying the Psalms with Job

“Inspired by the experience of his own innocence, Job bitterly criticized the theology of temporal retribution as maintained in his day and expounded by his friends.… But his challenge stopped halfway… What he should have done was to leap the fence set up around him by this sclerotic theology that is so dangerously close to idolatry, run free in the fields of God’s love, and breathe an unrestricted air like the animals described in God’s argument—animals that humans cannot domesticate. The world outside the fence is a world of gratuitousness; it is there that God dwells and there that God’s friends find a joyous welcome.
“The world of retribution—and not of temporal retribution only—is not where God dwells; at most God visits it.” (Gustavo Gutiérrez On Job p.88)

“Pray as you can, not as you can’t.” (Abbot H. John Chapman)

Many of the psalms call on G-d to give folk what the psalmist thinks they deserve, to visit—in Gutiérrez’ words—the world of retribution. If I think Gutiérrez is right, what do I do with them?

Chapman’s advice is probably a useful starting point. Sometimes (often?) my pain or my neighbor’s pain is such that I can only add my voice to the psalmist’s. Thwart the wicked, rescue the righteous, NOW! But sometimes there’s enough distance to experience some sympathy for G-d: it’s easy in prayer to play Saul to God’s David: “Here, bronze helmet, coat of mail, sword! Go for it!” (See 1 Samuel 17:38-39), when G-d would really rather do something else.

With a few exceptions the Psalter articulates only the human side of the conversation. The divine speeches in Job (chapters 38-41) with a nudge from Gutiérrez encourage us to notice the disconnects between the divine and human agendas, and to remember, with Isaiah, that the disconnects are finally very good news.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.
For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,
so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.
For you shall go out in joy,
and be led back in peace…  (Isa. 55:8-12)

Another Postscript to the August 9 Post

Dealing with our vulnerability: this from Ellen F. Davis on the psalms of petition in Opening Israel’s Scriptures, quoting André Chouraqui:

The only thing he [the psalmist] opposes to the arrows that pierce him through, is his own voice[.] His hands are empty; God alone is his weaponry, his fortress. The Innocent never relies on his material strength for deliverance from his enemies…

… Every one of the psalms—and especially the psalms which seem the most bellicose—[all] are animated by an absolute contempt for material brute strength. This is not a question of heroic renunciation, but rather one of objective certitude. Might is good for nothing, serves as the foundation for nothing, and leads to nothing… As for the Just, he is committed to the victorious action of justice and truth.