Non Sequitur

My zeal has consumed me, because my enemies have forgotten Your words.  Psalm 119:139  NASB

Because – ṣāmat – put an end to, cut off, destroy.^[1]  The opening verb in the verse.  “The verb is a very strong word for destruction or for completely silencing someone.”^[2]  What has been cut off, completely destroyed?  “Zeal– qinʾâ.”  The Hebrew verb “expresses a very strong emotion whereby some quality or possession of the object is desired by the subject.” ^[3]  But now the sentence doesn’t make sense.  How can the forgetfulness of the enemies cause the poet’s intense desire to be destroyed?  It would seem that just the opposite should be true.  Viewing the ignorance and forgetfulness of his enemies should make him even more zealous.  What’s going on?

Are you ever completely discouraged by others’ lack of acceptance of God’s ways?  Do you ever find yourself just giving up in your efforts to try to bring them to see what you see?  Is your fervor for Torah diminished when those you care about reject your enthusiasm?  I’d be surprised if you haven’t had these experiences.  So, if the psalmist said, “My intense desire for You has been damaged by the forgetfulness of others close to me,” we might understand him.  But that’s not what he writes.  What he writes is that his passion for God has been destroyed because his enemies forget Torah.  How can the implied disobedience of God’s way by enemies destroy his desire for God?  Of course his enemies forget Torah.  That’s why they are enemies.  So, what’s the big deal?  Why does their action destroy his fervor?  We need a better understanding of “forget” in order to answer this question:

The general meaning of šākaḥ “to forget,” without a specific theological nuance, is the exception for this verb. . . It is in God and man’s reciprocal relationship, that the verb šākaḥ finds its most steady use. . . More often man is the subject of šākaḥ, the one who forgets. Forgetting is not simply a psychological act of having a thought pass from one’s consciousness, a temporary or permanent lapse of memory. This is indicated by the frequent identification of the verb with an action. To forget God is to ignore his commandments (Deut 8:11). To forget God is to follow other gods (Deut 8:19); to forget God is to stand in fear of harm and danger, to live fretfully and timidly (Isa 51:13). To forget God is to challenge him (Ps 106:13). The Bible would indicate that satiety is the major factor for forgetting God (Deut 8:12ff.; Hos 13:6 for example). ^[4]

Now we recognize that “forget” is a synonym for “disobey.”  And that’s a very sad thing.  The reason these people are enemies is because they don’t know God.  If they did know Him, they would be friends, perhaps brothers.  The first level of discouragement is the realization that the reason for their hostility is their idolatry—which doesn’t have to be the case.  They are not enemies because they are inherently opposed to the psalmist.  They are enemies because they oppose God, and that’s not what God or the psalmist wants.  That fact alone is discouraging.

But it’s more than that.  ṣāmat isn’t just discouragement.  It’s destruction.  How does that fit?  Perhaps the psalmist is reflecting on the end of this situation.  Those who oppose God will be vanquished.  In fact, they will be extinguished.  They will be wiped from the face of the earth.  We might imagine that this is a good thing.  God’s enemies will be destroyed.  But we must remember God’s reply in the midrash about Israel crossing the Sea of Reeds.

Following Nachshon ben Aminadab, the first Israelite courageous enough to step into the sea, the Israelites are able to cross safely, but when the Egyptians follow with their soldiers and heavy chariots, they become stuck in the mud and as the waters come rolling back over them, they drown in the sea. . . At that point the angels break out into song, they are so happy, so relieved that the Israelites are finally safe. All that God had done for the Israelites has finally paid off, the Israelites are free at last. . . God sees the angel’s rejoicing, but God isn’t pleased. “My creatures are drowning in the sea”, God says, “and you sing songs”. . . The Midrash tells us that God was not angry with the Israelites for singing and rejoicing at the shores of the sea. The people had just escaped great danger. It was only human that they express their relief and their joy. But the angels were supposed to have a somewhat broader perspective. They should have kept their awareness of the spark of God that is in every person, even the Pharaoh himself. . . They should have remembered God’s teaching, “it is not the death of the wicked that I seek, but only that he should turn from his evil ways and live.” . . That story from the ancient Midrash is preserved in our Passover seder rituals even to this day. When we come to the retelling of the ten plagues, we pour some wine out of our cup, or some families take a little bit of wine with their finger at this point. We show God that we understand that our cup of joy cannot be filled to the brim, as long as others, even if they were our enemies, have lost their lives.[5]

Death is not the solution.  My zeal for God is destroyed when I remember this.  How can I delight in the destruction of my enemies when God Himself is sorrowful?  The inevitability of judgment only makes me weep, not sing.

Topical Index: ṣāmat, destroy, šākaḥ, forget, qinʾâ, zeal, drowning, Psalm 119:139

^[1] Hartley, J. E. (1999). 1932 צָמַת. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament(electronic ed., p. 770). Moody Press.

^[2] Ibid.

^[3] Coppes, L. J. (1999). 2038 קָנָא. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 802). Moody Press.

^[4] Ibid.

[5] http://rorycooney.blogspot.com/2013/03/my-creations-are-drowning-and-you-are.html