Psalm 119 Reflections

It seems appropriate to finish this study with some personal reflections.  We’ve explored the 176 verses over the course of half a year.  Looking at the psalm verse by verse revealed the depth and complexities of the grammar, vocabulary, and Hebraic thought patterns.  But this microscopic examination might cloud the overall impact.  After all, it isn’t just a masterful poetic acrostic.  It’s also an extended praise for God’s Law.  That’s what we need to remember.  Don’t lose sight of the forest while noticing the trees.

Scholars provide some overview.  “Perhaps this extravagant mnemonic was deemed appropriate because of this manifestly didactic nature of the poem.  The edifying truth of unflagging loyalty to God’s’ word was intended to be inculcated in those who recited the text, inscribed in their memory.”[1]  Most Christian writers note the continuous theme of the glory of God’s word.  Jewish appraisal is equally rich: “In its 176 verses, eight for each of the twenty-two Hebrew letters, the psalm implores God by expressing a profound love of God’s Torah and a deep desire for its knowledge. While not quite striving for the rabbinic ideal of torah lishmah (Torah study for its own sake), Psalm 119 definitely anticipates rabbinic Judaism’s commitment to Talmud Torah as a mode of divine service and a path to God.”[2]  But all of this is academic.  What of the deeply personal impact?  How does Psalm 119 impact me?!

Here’s my reflection.  Over and over I find myself confronted by the poet’s intense and deliberate decision to trust God’s words rather than attempt to work out his own solutions.  I understand this—theoretically—but it is a far cry from my own immediate response to danger, personal threats, verbal abuse, and other attempts to do me harm.   I wish I had such confidence.  I actually feel condemnation for not having such confidence.  The truth is that these verses become more of a challenge than a comfort.  There are times when I feel so far from the submission displayed by the poet that I would rather stop reading than continue.  Nevertheless, I long for his stance in a hostile world.

On the other hand, I empathize with the poet’s frustrations, with his constant appeal for help, and especially with his admission of failure.  That’s me.  Struggling to make an unwavering commitment to God’s words (and I use “words” in the plural on purpose).  I wish I could hear God speak, but even if I did, would that be enough?  The poem starts with “Happy whose way is blameless,” but that’s not me.  I’m sure that the blameless ones are happy, but being guilty means I don’t experience that happiness.  Those verses don’t apply to me.  I wish they would.  I do resonate with his description as “sojourner.”  I feel the longing for answers, but I often worry that my academic approach leaves me emotionally stunted.  I want to walk about in open spaces. I know that following God’s instructions will raise my broken spirit, but the necessary commitment and discipline seem too much.  Too many failures remind me of my incapacity.  Yes, affliction did bring me back, but how many times have I trod this circle?  I can hardly claim the righteousness of this poet as my own.  Perhaps, in the end the last verse is really my verse.  I am the servant who has gone astray.  Redeem me, Lord, for only You can.

Topical Index: Psalm 119, Law, sojourner, blameless, go astray, redemption

[1] Robert Alter, The Hebrew Bible: Writings Vol. 3, p. 279, fn. 1.

[2] https://www.thetorah.com/article/seeking-torah-seeking-god-psalm-119