In Psalm 23 we saw that God is caring for us and watching over us as a good and faithful Shepherd. He won’t keep us out of the valley of deep darkness, but He walks through it with us and He gives us comfort, often in ways that we are not aware of. We feel like we’re on our own, like He’s deserted us and is no longer blessing us as He has in the past. But somehow we get to the other side of the valley and we find that He was there all the time and that we’ve gotten through only by His help. He is with us, watching out for us, carrying us when our faith is weak, seeking us when we lose our way, refreshing us with His presence at the times we least expect. We’re not on our own in this journey of faith. It’s not all dependent on us.
But, at the same time, we’re not passive. There’s always a danger of going too far on one side or the other: either making too much depend on our efforts and diligence, or making everything depend so much upon God that we become completely passive. In the psalms we’re looking at today, we can see the psalmist actively dealing with his problems in God’s presence. He’s not passive, but he’s not on his own either. He’s turning to his Great Shepherd in trouble, and there’s much we can learn from the way he prays through his difficulties.
First, I need to give some explanation for why I’ve put these two psalms together. Most commentators agree that these were originally one psalm. There are a number of reasons for thinking this. The most obvious thing is the common refrain: “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” It’s there twice in Psalm 42, and at the end of Psalm 43. Psalm 42 is also the first psalm in Book 2 of the psalter (the psalms are divided into 5 books). Most of the psalms in book 2 have superscriptions, but Psalm 43 doesn’t, suggesting that it didn’t originally stand on its own. And many Hebrew manuscripts put the two of them together as one psalm. So there’s some evidence that the Psalmist wrote psalms 42 and 43 as one prayer and that they became separated later.
But the most important thing–and this is why I’ve put these two psalms together–is that neither is really complete on its own. The psalms are similar to musical compositions; they have a specific form and structure. For example, many songs we sing have two different musical sections. In Fanny Crosby’s song, “To God Be the Glory,” there’s the opening section, which begins, “To God be the glory, great things He hath done;” then there’s the refrain, which begins, “Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, let the earth hear His voice.” These have different tunes, and the two parts complement each other musically. This is a very simple form, called AB Form. The chorus "How Great Are You Lord” is ABA Form; it repeats the original tune after the refrain. Classical compositions are usually much more complex. In any case, when a composer begins writing a piece of music, he’s working within a specific form and structure. He’s not just writing music as it pops into his mind. The form gives a sense of direction and order to the music. The same is true of poetry. The Hebrew poets who wrote the psalms were very attentive to form and structure; these are prayers, but they’re not haphazard. They’re not spontaneous outbursts. They’ve been very carefully crafted.
Psalms 42 & 43 together make up a form called a lament. We don’t need to discuss all the parts of a lament. The important thing is that neither Psalm 42 nor Psalm 43, on its own, is a complete lament. They fit together as if they were originally one, part of the same composition. Psalm 43 completes the prayer begun in Psalm 42. That doesn’t mean we should join them back together. But we’ll understand them both better if we see them as a unit. Even if we’re incorrect in thinking that they were originally written as one prayer, they’re closely related and complement one another. And, for the subject we’re considering this morning, it’s helpful to take the two of them together.
I’ve talked before about the Psalms as a school for prayer. These two psalms can help train us in a more helpful way to deal with our problems. Most of the time, the way we deal with difficult situations doesn’t help us. We complain to those around us, and the more we complain the bigger the problem seems. We feel compelled to complain; we feel like we’ll burst if we don’t let it out, but then we find that it doesn’t help. Some people don’t complain: they hold it all in. They complain to themselves, over and over, in their minds. And as they do that, they become angry and bitter. Often they develop physical problems as a direct result of internalizing stress. I’ve known some others who pretend everything is fine. They read, in the New Testament, about joy as a fruit of the Spirit, and they think they have to be positive and cheerful all the time. So they try to ignore their problems, but the joy is not real. Inside they’re churning, but they make a valiant effort to put a positive spin on everything. Apart from the psychological and physical problems that result from this kind of thing, this is not the joy produced by the presence of the Holy Spirit. And it doesn’t help us experience the comfort of God, our Great Shepherd.
I received an email awhile back with this story: “The carpenter I hired to help me restore an old farmhouse had just finished a rough first day on the job. A flat tire made him lose an hour of work, his electric saw quit, and now his ancient pickup truck refused to start. While I drove him home, he sat in stony silence. On arriving, he invited me in to meet his family. As we walked toward the front door, he paused briefly at a small tree, touching the tips of the branches with both hands. When opening the door he underwent an amazing transformation. His tanned face was wreathed in smiles and he hugged his two small children and gave his wife a kiss. Afterward he walked me to the car. We passed the tree and my curiosity got the better of me. I asked him about what I had seen him do earlier. “Oh, that's my trouble tree,” he replied. “I know I can't help having troubles on the job, but one thing's for sure, troubles don't belong in the house with my wife and the children. So I just hang them on the tree every night when I come home. Then in the morning I pick them up again.” He paused. “Funny thing is,” he smiled, “When I come out in the morning to pick 'em up, there ain't nearly as many as I remember hanging up the night before.”
I hear things like that from time to time. This sort of thing may work for some people. It probably depends on your personality. Some people just won’t be able to lay aside their problems in this way. But it also depends on the nature and the severity of the problem. Some things we experience are too overwhelming to lay aside. We can’t get away from them so easily. The psalmist’s approach is much better: when we’re discouraged, when our hearts are “cast down,” we need to be intentional in praying our trouble. We need to bring our problems into God’s presence and confront them with His help.
The first thing to notice is that the psalmist remembers, in God’s presence, how things have been in the past. Listen to verse 4 in The Message: “These are the things I go over and over, emptying out the pockets of my life. I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd, right out in front, leading them all, eager to arrive and worship, shouting praises, singing thanksgiving–celebrating, all of us, God’s feast.” Things haven’t always been as discouraging as they are now. He’s experienced the joy and exuberance of God’s presence in worship. He’s had joyful times together with God’s people.
This isn’t nostalgic sentimentalism. He brings these memories into God’s presence in prayer. The Psalmist isn’t just daydreaming about how things used to be. When we’re in trouble, when some difficulty in our lives is overwhelming us, it’s easy to forget all the great things God has done for us already. Our current troubles begin to color everything, even our perception of the past. We begin to think that those good times we’ve known in the past were doomed to fail, right from the beginning. Things seemed to be going well, but we were naive. We were living in a dream world, and what we’re experiencing now is real life. We become pessimistic, cynical and bitter.
When I was growing up, I remember watching The Dean Martin Show with my dad. There were several variety shows like it in the 60's, but that was one of my favorites. Dean Martin came across as an easy-going, cheerful guy. I found a brief description of his life on the internet. He spoke Italian for the first 5 years of his life, and the other kids ridiculed him for his broken English. When he was 16, he quit school and became a steel mill worker; he also delivered bootleg liquor and was an amateur boxer. But then he experienced the kind of success and prosperity many people dream about. Everything he did turned out well; he made records, appeared in movies and TV and became rich. In 1996, shortly after his death, I heard a radio commentator describing him, saying that over the years he had become increasingly cynical about life. When his son was killed in a plane crash, in 1987, that was the last straw. He never really recovered. At the end of his life, he was bitter, cynical and pessimistic. All the good things he had experienced were overshadowed, blotted out, by his cynicism.
The psalmist remembers, in God’s presence, the good things he’s experienced in the past. He doesn’t allow his current emotional state to color his perception of the past. Things are bad right now, but they haven’t always been so. When we find ourselves overwhelmed by difficulties, it’s a good thing to look back on the things God has done for us already: answered prayers, extraordinary provisions, joyful times of worship and fellowship. But we need to go further than this and remember things God has done for His people throughout history. We’re part of a body, and our experience of God is only part of the picture. He’s been rescuing His people from trouble for thousands of years. Read the historical books in the Old Testament, and give thanks for all the times you see God intervening in His people’s lives. Pray through Psalm 107, which celebrates God’s great love in dealing with His people and recounts some of the ways He has come to their rescue. Read some Christian biographies. This same God, who has been rescuing His people and carrying them through difficulties for thousands of years, is your Shepherd. Things have not always been as they are in your experience right now. Your troubles had a starting point in history. Don’t allow them to cloud your perception about life in general.
The second thing to notice is that the psalmist speaks honestly to God about his trouble. He describes what is going on and how he feels about it: “My tears have been my food day and night, while men say to me all day long, ‘Where is your God?’ I say to God my Rock, ‘Why have you forgotten me? Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?’” We too often dress up our prayers. We can’t say to God, “why have you forgotten me?” because we know that’s not theologically correct. God doesn’t forget things. We dress up our prayers, making sure they’re theologically sound, and in the process we end up not really praying truthfully. The psalmists are much more honest. They know the truth about God. They know He hasn’t literally forgotten about them. But it feels like He has. Everything is going wrong in their lives, and it feels like God has walked off and deserted them. So they cry out to Him, telling Him honestly how they feel. And they provide a model that we can follow when our experience is like theirs.
Jeremiah gives us some good examples of this kind of prayer. At the beginning of chapter 20, Jeremiah is beaten and put in stocks for his faithfulness in delivering God’s Word. What we’d hope is that he gives thanks for the privilege of suffering shame for God’s great name, like the apostles do in Acts. But that’s not how he feels at this point. Here’s how he really prays: “O Lord, you deceived me, and I was deceived; you overpowered me and prevailed. I am ridiculed all day long; everyone mocks me. Whenever I speak, I cry out proclaiming violence and destruction. So the word of the Lord has brought me insult and reproach all day long. But if I say, ‘I will not mention him or speak any more in his name,’ his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot” (Jeremiah 20:7-9). He feels like God has deceived him and put him in a bad place, but God is more powerful than he is, so there’s nothing he can he do about it. He’s not even capable of giving up the work that has brought him so much grief. The prayer goes on, and at times it looks like he’s gained a new perspective that he’s turned a corner and has been enabled to rise above his difficulties. In verse 11, he says, “But the Lord is with me like a mighty warrior; so my persecutors will stumble and not prevail.” But he can’t hold onto that outlook, and just a few verses later he says, “Cursed be the day I was born! May the day my mother bore me not be blessed” (verse 14). And the prayer ends with these bleak words: “Why did I ever come out of the womb to see trouble and sorrow and to end my days in shame?” (verse 18). He’s praying his trouble. It doesn’t always make sense. It doesn’t always hang together. It’s disjointed and goes back and forth between confidence and despair, because that’s how he feels. Seeing these things in Scripture gives us the freedom to approach God with confidence, knowing that He can handle the truth about what is happening in our hearts.
The third thing to notice in these psalms is that the psalmist doesn’t just talk about his troubles. He doesn’t stop there. He goes on to preach to himself, to remind himself about the truth. That’s what he’s doing in the refrain, in verses 5 and 11 of Psalm 42, and verse 5 of Psalm 43. It’s the same each time: “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” When we’re in trouble our perception becomes clouded. We don’t see things clearly. We need to be reminded of the truth, so rather than waiting for someone else to come along, the psalmist takes himself in hand and speaks to himself. He gives himself the freedom to speak honestly, in God’s presence, about how he feels. He pours out his heart to God. Then he stops and speaks to himself the truth about God and about his own future.
Complaining about our troubles to each other doesn’t usually help us. There are times when we just need to talk to someone, when talking through the problem helps relieve the burden. But often what we do with one another is complain. We tell each other how badly things are going, and it only makes us feel more hopeless. And we tend to speak to ourselves in the same way. We tell ourselves, “I feel so depressed;” We listen to ourselves talking about how miserable we are. We talk to ourselves in ways that only make things worse.
This is where we need to stop ourselves and be intentional about speaking the truth, reminding ourselves of what we know is true. We may not feel the power of that truth right now. That doesn’t matter. We speak the truth and say to our souls, “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” Psalm 103 begins in this way, with the psalmist speaking to himself: “Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name.” He may not feel like praising God. But he’s telling himself to do it anyway.
Many of our hymns do this; rather than speaking to God, the hymn writer is speaking to himself, stirring himself up, preaching to himself: “Be still my soul, the Lord is on thy side,” or “Praise, my soul, the king of heaven” are two examples that come to mind. Charles Wesley is struggling with guilt, but instead of listening to himself, he says: “Arise, my soul, arise. Shake off thy guilty fears. The bleeding sacrifice in my behalf appears.” He reminds himself of the truth of the Gospel. Thomas Ken is struggling to get out of bed to have devotions, and instead of lying there and going back to sleep, he addresses himself: “Awake, my soul, and with the sun thy daily stage of duty run. Shake off dull sloth and joyful rise to pay thy morning sacrifice.” It wouldn’t be a bad idea to make a list of hymns that you can use in this way, to speak the truth to yourself. Make use of these hymns to do what the psalmist is doing.
The psalmist tells himself to “Put your hope in God.” When we begin to feel that things are truly hopeless, it’s because we’ve lost sight of who God is and how He deals with His people. He is both sovereign and good. He has all power, and He desires the best for His people. What is the truth? Here it is, from Isaiah 40: “The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.” Isaiah reminds them of who God is: “Who has scooped up the ocean in his two hands, or measured the sky between his thumb and little finger, Who has put all the earth’s dirt in one of his baskets, weighed each mountain and hill? Who could ever have told God what to do or taught him his business?” (vv. 12-13, The Message). Whatever is going on at the moment, God knows all about it, and He has the power and wisdom to come to their help. He goes on later in the same chapter: “Have you not been paying attention? Have you not been listening? Haven’t you heard these stories all your life? Don’t you understand the foundation of all things? God sits high above the round ball of earth. The people look like mere ants. He stretches out the skies like a canvas–yes, like a tent canvas to live under. He ignores what all the princes say and do. The rulers of the earth count for nothing. Princes and rulers don’t amount to much. Like seeds barely rooted, just sprouted, They shrivel when God blows on them. Like flecks of chaff, they’re gone with the wind” (vv. 21-24, The Message). God knows everything that is going on, and He has enough power and wisdom to deal with the situation. When we lose sight of this we need to speak the truth to ourselves, remind ourselves of who our God is, and then go on to say to ourselves, “Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my savior and my God.”
The reason he gives is at the end of the refrain: “for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.” The trouble he’s experiencing is temporary. It has a beginning point in history–that was part of the point of remembering what God has done in the past. And, in just the same way, it will come to an end. “I will yet praise him.” It’s the same thing we saw at the end of Psalm 23: “Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”
When we’re experiencing difficulties in our lives, we need to remind ourselves of who God is, and we need to remind ourselves of His great promises for the future. Paul, who knew something about facing difficult circumstances, said, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18). He said he was “hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8-9). And then he went on to say this: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes, not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18).
Life in this world is full of difficulties. There are times when we wonder how we’ll be able to keep going. John Newton wrote, “Through many dangers, toils and snares I have already come. ‘Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.” It’s by the grace of our good Shepherd that we keep going. But it doesn’t happen automatically, with no effort on our part. One thing we can do to train ourselves for living through difficulties is to regularly pray these two psalms. They train us in praying our struggles. And in praying our difficulties, we keep in mind these three things: we remember, in God’s presence all the things He has done in the past; we come before God honestly, as we are, pouring out our hearts to Him; and then we go on to preach to ourselves, reminding ourselves of who God is and of the great things He has promised for His people in the future. Here’s one of those promises: “Look! I am creating new heavens and a new earth–so wonderful that no one will even think about the old ones anymore. Be glad; rejoice forever in my creation! And look! I will create Jerusalem as a place of happiness. Her people will be a source of joy. I will rejoice in Jerusalem and delight in my people. And the sound of weeping and crying will be heard no more” (Isaiah 65:17-19, NLT). “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my savior and my God.”
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