The Two-Directions Word (2)

You have put me in the lowest pit, in dark places, in the depths.  Psalm 88:6  NASB

Put – The Hebrew verb šît comes with some very odd translation history.  Occurring eighty-five times in the Bible, it covers the range from commitment (“to set the heart on”) to enemy opposition (“set against me”).  It is also used for the idea of trusting God (“putting trust in Him”) as well as fearing the Lord’s punishment (“put them in fear”).  But perhaps the most unusual use is the name Seth (šēt), explained as “given.”  “To give” is certainly the exception to the rule.

Now “put” yourself in the place of the psalmist.  Here’s a word that moves from trust to fear, from commitment to opposition.  All those emotions packed into a single utterance.  What do you suppose the psalmist is feeling at this moment?  He put his trust in God—but God didn’t show up.  He’s concerned that his enemies will prevail—and God seems to be behind this.  He feels completely abandoned—as if God is punishing him for something.  And all along this gnawing feeling keeps rising in his heart and mind: “God did this.  God put me here.  Why?”

Perhaps the emphasis of this verse shouldn’t be on the verb but rather on the pronoun: You.  Frankly, this is a sad psalm.  But it’s very real.  How many times have we wished to say to the Lord, “You did this to me!”?  Perhaps our religious upbringing forces us to squelch the thought, but somewhere back there in the dark we must know that the idea of God’s sovereignty implies some sort of divine responsibility, especially for those who wish to follow Him.  And yet—and yet history, personal and corporate, seems to shout at us, “Where is your God?”  Our lives are riddled with tragedy, perhaps just tiny molehills in the great scheme of eternity, but nevertheless big enough for us to feel exhausted by the climb. Perhaps we’ve just suppressed anger at divine providence or thrown up our hands in submissive resignation.  Whatever we’ve done, there are some things that deserve answers—but we don’t get any response.  The most important element of this great psalm is its personal realism.  There isn’t any attempt to hide behind some laudable theological doctrine.  This is front-and-center confrontation with God.  Don’t tell me we’re all sinners and we all deserve nothing but chastisement!  Even if that’s true, don’t we serve a God of mercy?  Heschel is right.  History is a nightmare.  But God is the God of history too, and some place along the line we need to feel His comfort, not His absence.

Šît.  Put your trust in Him even while He puts you in the dark places.  Why?  Well, frankly, what else can you really do?  Oh, and complain!  Maybe you’ll feel a little better.  Maybe He’ll hear you.

Topical Index: šît, put, complaint, abandoned, Psalm 88:6

Subscribe
Notify of
1 Comment
Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Richard Bridgan

Indeed there are two contexts that the “dramatic irony” of our lives can take; yet neither reflects the “personal realism” of an ultimate outcome of one’s life-drama, for that is made clear only by means of God’s self-revelation as being the One against whom man stands opposed in rebellion and sin, and in which the life-drama of such a person both abides in death and culminates in death, apart from God. Moreover, there is another ultimate outcome given by the grace and mercy of God made possible by an action of God’s own personal realism in the work of propitiation and expiation of sin. This work of God was performed within the context of the dramatic irony of personal human realism made manifest through His uniquely begotten Son in the life he lived and the death he took upon himself on the cross of Calvary. In this work the front-and-center confrontation with God is encountered as the only life-drama that matters with respect to one’s ultimate outcome.

Yes… at present the “dramatic irony” of humanity’s condition suffers under the conditions of it’s errant native rule; yet life’s dramatic irony also abides in its present context along with the grace, mercy, benevolence, and long-suffering love of God, whereby man is given the means— and, if willing, given the opportunity for the personal realism of repentance and forgiveness. By this work we may be enabled to know God’s presence alongside us in our life-experiences of “dramatic irony” here and now as we look toward our ultimate and final separation from the life-drama that is presently found in the context of sin and death.