The Eternal Optimist

Those who love Your Law have great peace, and nothing causes them to stumble.  Psalm 119:165  NASB

Nothing – Wouldn’t that be nice?  Wouldn’t you jump at the chance to have “great peace; to live a life where nothing ever caused you to trip up”?  Sounds like paradise, or maybe heaven.  But it certainly doesn’t sound like our world.  Even if we love the Law, we rarely seem to experience the kind of peace and tranquility the poet describes.  What’s gone wrong?  Are we just so far away from the idyllic 10^th century B.C.E. of David’s environment that this longed-for state is no longer possible?  Or do we just not love God’s Law enough?  Something must be askew.  Even great spiritual giants like Abraham Heschel proclaim that history is a nightmare.  Maybe it’s not us.  Maybe the poet is just expressing wishful thinking.  His world didn’t seem to be much better than ours.

We’re certainly familiar with the vocabulary.  Peace – šālôm – well-being in every respect.  ʾāhēb – love – deep affection and care.  tôrâ – Law, and all that it entails.  Maybe we need some help with ʾayin, here translated as “nothing” but with an enormous range (else, except, to be gone, incurable, neither, never, no, nowhere, none, nor, nor any, nor anything, not, nothing, to nought, past, unsearchable, well nigh, without.)^[1]  And perhaps we need to take a closer look at kāšal, “to stumble.”  But somewhere in all these words we will need to find an answer to the question: “How can the poet dare to make such a claim?”

We’ll start with kāšal, “to stumble, totter, stagger” from weakness or from fleeing attackers.  Since the poet has written extensively about conflicts with enemies, perhaps he’s using the term not in the general sense that we are apt to understand but rather in the specific sense that if I love God’s Law nothing the enemy throws at me will cause me to misstep.  This seems to make more sense considering “The verb is usually used of physical falling, but numbers of times the figurative use of failing or ruin occurs (Ps 64:8 [H 9]; II Chr 25:8). However, the root is rarely used in the sense of the nt skandalidzō ‘cause one to fall into sin.’”^[2]  It’s not some idyllic existence that he has in mind.  Rather it is the entirely tangible experience of knowing God oversees.  It’s not a heavenly sinless perfect world, but rather that mental state where the enemies’ attacks don’t derail me.  With this perspective, I can understand why the poet uses šālôm.  He’s confident of reinforcements and rescue.  He’s not looking for Paradise.  He’s expecting fulfilled promises.  Reconsidering the context helps us arrive at a rational explanation.

But there’s another implication.  We wanted more.  We wanted that “great peace, no stumbling, perfect life” solution.  In other words, we wanted out!  The contextual solution uncovers our deeper escapist desires.  The verse confronts us and asks: “Why did you want a heavenly answer?”  It challenges us.  Are we really ready and willing to do God’s will herewhere there are enemies or did we just want to run away to the afterlife?

Topical Index: peace, Law, stumble, kāšal,  paradise, Psalm 119:165

^[1] Scott, J. B. (1999). 81 אַיִן. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 37). Moody Press.

^[2] Harris, R. L. (1999). 1050 כָשַׁל. In R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 457). Moody Press.