Under His Thumb (2)
Your wrath has rested upon me, and You have afflicted me with all Your waves. Selah Psalm 88:7 NASB
Wrath – God is good, right? Good all the time, right? Then why do we resonate with the thought in this verse? Why do we sometimes feel as if we’re under God’s thumb? “Your wrath” is from the Hebrew ḥēmâ. Notice the comment in TWOT about punishment:
The term ḥēmâ is used a few times to indicate physical heat in the sense of a fever or of poison causing fever (Deut 32:24, 33). However, the term is used, as a rule, to convey the concept of an inner, emotional heat which rises and is fanned to varying degrees. The context usually gives a clue as to which translation should be preferred, whether anger, hot displeasure, indignation, wrath, rage, or fury.[1]
In various places where ḥēmâ appears it refers to God’s reaction to his unfaithful covenant people (Deut 9:19; Jer 42:18). God is aroused to great heat because he, as a jealous God, sees the people he loves disobey him and appeal to, or consort with, sinners or “no gods.” He then expresses his rage or pours out his fury (Ezk 36:6).[2]
According to this verse, the psalmist is feeling divine heat. In fact, it’s a weight that is almost too much for him to bear (that’s the verb “rested upon”—sāmak—“to lean on, to uphold”). God is pressing, pressing, pressing—squeezing the life out of him. It’s not circumstances. It’s not enemies. It’s the good God who’s bringing down the weight of heaven. And why? There’s nothing here to indicate that the writer needs forgiveness or has some unrepentant sin hidden away in the dark. This is the “Job Syndrome.” Unexplained affliction. Unmerited distress.
Have you been there? I have.
My friend Steve Brown used to say, “I don’t doubt God’s sovereignty, but sometimes I doubt His benevolence.” It would be hard to not doubt divine benevolence. Even a cursory look at human life produces Heschel’s insight, “Scratch the skin of any person and you come upon sorrow, frustration, unhappiness.”[3] Yes, indeed. Blood and tears are life itself.
Perhaps that’s why this psalm, so dark and despairing, is so necessary. We must acknowledge the world’s hurt, our hurt, if we are going to have any kind of depth to our faith in Him. Good times aren’t enough. God has to show up in the dark—and that means we have to let Him know that’s where we are—in the dark, despondent, alone, wondering why. Cry out! “Your wrath has fallen upon me!”
Addition: This is the reason why Rabbi Riemer noted this psalm is not found in the prayer book. It’s just too real. We want our prayer books to be uplifting because life already pulls us down. How could we even begin to recite a prayer that only emphasizes our discouragement? But that’s the point, isn’t it? We need this prayer precisely because it is so real. This is our way to speaking those words that the heart can’t utter. This is the dark side come to light.
Topical Index: ḥēmâ, heat, wrath, benevolence, Psalm 88:7
[1] (1999). 860 יָחַם. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 374). Chicago: Moody Press.
[2] (1999). 860 יָחַם. R. L. Harris, G. L. Archer Jr., & B. K. Waltke (Eds.), Theological Wordbook of the Old Testament (electronic ed., p. 375). Chicago: Moody Press.
[3] Abraham Heschel, Moral Grandeur and Spiritual Audacity, p. 146.
The nature of God’s wrath is consistent with the nature of his love in that both are demonstrated by his action toward and for the work of righteousness. In separating a mind set upon righteousness from a reprobate mindset, any or all of God’s actions in demonstration of wrath may be perceived as indistinguishable by any apparent condition/cause, yet the context and ultimate objective is ascertained by the relational standing of the one experiencing God’s wrath, and the response of one’s spirit to those action’s.
Judgement is not qualified merely by the acts/works God determines to use; rather the spirit and standing of a person in relationship to/with God (either as Father or merely as a divine despot) serves to judge by the presence (or absence) of the character of wisdom and understanding.