The Summons
My God, I cry out by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I have no rest. Psalm 22:2 NASB
Cry out – Anthony Bloom’s comment is frightening:
“ . . . it is very important to remember that prayer is an encounter and a relationship, a relationship which is deep, and this relationship cannot be forced either on us or on God. The fact that God can make Himself present or can leave us with the sense of His absence is part of this live and real relationship. If we could mechanically draw Him into encounter, force Him to meet us, simply because we have chosen this moment to meet Him, there would be no relationship and no encounter.”[1]
David knew precisely what this is like. “I cry out” is the Hebrew word אֶקְרָא. The verbal root is qārāʾ, “to call, to call out, to recite.” Here, of course, it is conjugated as a first person, singular. But it is also an imperfect which means it is a continuous, incomplete action. Perhaps we can capture the emotional overtone if we translated it as “I wail.” The force of this groan is underscored by the next word, the plural of yôm (day). “I wail daily, continuously.” God’s absence is literally felt as physical illness.
And yet, God does not answer.
We’re back to Anthony Bloom. Somehow we’re under the impression that because God is omniscient and omnipresent, He is always available. But if that were the case, we wouldn’t find anything important in David’s cry. We’d chalk it up to David’s sins and go on our merry way, believing that God, like a good Semitic genie, will always be ready to serve whenever we call. Unless, of course, God is personal and personal relationships require mutual agreement.
Every great biblical character experienced periods of divine absence. So do we. Doesn’t that seem odd to you? Why would God do such a thing, keeping us at arm’s length when we are so desperately in need? “To meet God face to face in prayer is a critical moment in our lives, and thanks be to Him that He does not always present Himself to us when we wish to meet Him, because we might not be able to endure such a meeting. Remember the many passages in Scripture in which we are told how bad it is to find oneself face to face with God, because God is power, God is truth, God is purity. Therefore, the first thought we ought to have when we do not tangibly perceive the divine presence is a thought of gratitude. God is merciful; He does not come in an untimely way. He gives us a chance to judge ourselves, to understand and not to come into His presence at a moment when it would mean condemnation.”[2]
It’s very difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that God spares me when He chooses to be absent. I want Him to show up. I summon Him. But that’s the problem. I’m trying to dictate how the relationship will proceed, and if I try to do that with any personal relationship, then I am really denying that basis of the relationship. Perhaps God cares so much for me that He’s not willing to let me destroy the relationship He wants with me. So He abstains—until I figure out what it means to really have a face to face encounter with Him.
But, in the meanwhile, I still cry out. I’m slow witted. It takes a long absence for me to understand presence. “Prayer begins at the edge of emptiness.”[3]
Topical Index: cry out, qārāʾ, absence, relationship, prayer, Psalm 22:2
[1] Anthony Bloom, Beginning to Pray, p. 26.
[2] Ibid., p. 27.
[3] Abraham Joshua Heschel, Source: https://quotepark.com/authors/abraham-joshua-heschel/?page=4
