Sermon for June 19th, 2022
Psalm 6:1-10
To the leader: with stringed instruments; according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.
1 O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger
or discipline me in your wrath.
2 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror.
3 My soul also is struck with terror,
while you, O Lord—how long?
4 Turn, O Lord, save my life;
deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love.
5 For in death there is no remembrance of you;
in Sheol who can give you praise?
6 I am weary with my moaning;
every night I flood my bed with tears;
I drench my couch with my weeping.
7 My eyes waste away because of grief;
they grow weak because of all my foes.
8 Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
9 The Lord has heard my supplication;
the Lord accepts my prayer.
10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror;
they shall turn back and in a moment be put to shame.
Psummer of Psalms V: Psalm 6
On September 11th, 2004 (the day my son Grady was born) I gained an incredible new superpower: The ability to tell Dad jokes. On December 16, 2007, when Abby was born, I leveled up. And on December 16th, 2011 when Jonah was born, I became a Jedi-Dad-Joke-Master. Since today is Father's day, I will now indulge in this ancient, sacred, art on behalf of Dads everywhere.
- What's the difference between a dad joke and a bad joke? Just one letter.
- What famous rock group has four men who can't sing? Mount Rushmore.
- I was going to tell you a time-traveling joke, but you didn't like it.
- I’ve got a pen that can write underwater. It can write other words, too, but underwater is one of my favorites.
- I used to play the piano by ear, but now I just use my hands.
- I used to hate facial hair, but then it grew on me.
- I used to be addicted to the hokey-pokey, but then I turned myself around.
- My wife told me to take the spider out instead of killing it. So...we went out. We had a few drinks. Turns out he's a pretty nice guy. He does web design for a living.
I should note that these jokes have absolutely nothing to do with today's scripture passage, except for the fact that the NRSV Bible calls Psalm 6 a "Prayer for Recovery from Grave Illness." If any of those jokes made you smack yourself on the forehead, grab your stomach, or groan for mercy, then perhaps this prayer is in fact, for you.
Psalm 6 begins, as many Psalms do, with an inscription:
To the leader: with stringed instruments; according to The Sheminith. A Psalm of David.
If you're not exactly sure what a Sheminith is, don't worry--you're in good company, along with most Biblical scholars and Hebrew experts. It's a Hebrew word that literally means one eighth... but whether it refers to a musical range (like an octave) or an eight-stringed instrument or rhythm with eight beats per measure... no one really knows. It's just another reminder that the Psalms are musical, but also mysterious. They are songs we can relate to, but they are also songs from a far away time and place and culture.
Slightly more familiar to us is the next part of the inscription: A Psalm of David. There are more Psalms attributed to King David than any other person or group of people in the Book of Psalms. And because we know a fair amount about David's life (which is related in the books of Kings and Chronicles) it's always intriguing to imagine, or try to figure out what was going on in his life when he wrote this or that Psalm.
There are some clues right away, in verse 1:
"O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger or discipline me in your wrath."
This is a confession of wrongdoing, an admission of guilt. The words imply that God may have a good reason to rebuke the Psalmist, to discipline him in anger. David is described by the Bible as a "man after God's own heart" but he is also first and foremost, a man--a fallible human being who made mistakes, sometimes on a colossal scale. As a leader, sometimes David's mistakes had consequences for an entire city or nation.
But here's the critical difference between David and a lot of leaders the world has known since then, perhaps especially today. It's not that David made fewer mistakes. But every mistake he made sent him trembling to the feet of his God, asking (as he does in verses 2-3) for forgiveness and restoration:
"Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing; O Lord, heal me, for my bones are shaking with terror. My soul also is struck with terror, while you, O Lord—how long?"
The NRSV translation takes the language about shaking bones, and the request for healing as an indication that the author of this Psalm is suffering from a severe illness. I think it's possible to read the Psalm this way, but then the opening lines create a problem--does God send severe illness as a punishment for bad behavior?
Another way to understand the Psalm is to focus more on the word "terror" which is applied to the Psalmist's bones as well as his soul. The word "languishing" (Hebrew אֻמְלַל umlal) literally means weak, but that could apply to the Psalmist's position just as much as his physical health. If it's a King, a leader of armies, like David, to say "I am weak" is to say I'm at a severe disadvantage--and there are several times in David's story where he was outnumbered, on the run, in a weakened position.
The last phrase in verse 3: "While you, O Lord--how long?" is interesting, and a bit more expansive in Hebrew than it sounds in English. עַד־ מָתָֽי (ad-matay) is a broad interrogative exclamation--it can mean "when" but also "how" and sometimes even "where" or "why?" If you've ever sent someone a text message with a bunch of question marks and exclamation points all in a row and no words...then you probably understand the sentiment. It's like David is saying "what happened?" "where are you?" "when are you coming back?" "why did you leave me?" "what should I do?" all rolled into one.
And the very first word in verse 4, שׁוּבָ֣ה (shuvah) which the NRSV translates as "turn" literally means "Come back!"
Verses 4-5: Turn, O Lord, save my life; deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love. For in death there is no remembrance of you; in Sheol who can give you praise?
This passage sounds grim at first--No remembrance of God in death? Wait a minute; I thought we would be WITH God in death, praising him eternally. Heaven is a Christian concept, and a pretty late development in the Bible. In early Judaism, death was believed to be an end, a permanent separation from God and people, and the joys of life. The word "sheol" used in this passage (which much later starts to take on aspects of an afterlife) in its earliest usage simply meant "the ground."
The psalmist, presumably David, is in effect saying, "Save me God, because if I'm six feet under I won't be able to do the thing I love to do the most: contemplating you, and singing your praises."
That may sound a little bit like flattery at first, but remember that David's name is attached to 75 of the Psalms. David was a King, but he was a musician before he was a king. And even when he was nothing more than a lowly shepherd boy, he made a habit of placing his trust, his faith, and his love in the God of Israel.
I think he's dead serious here (pardon the pun). I want to live, God. I want to get out of this mess, because you and me still have good times ahead of us together. I don't want to miss out on that.
Verses 6-7 turn to heartfelt grief and mourning:
"I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping. My eyes waste away because of grief; they grow weak because of all my foes."
That last part--because of all my foes--is a clue, I think, to the source of David's trembling, his weeping, and his fear of death. It's not illness, at least not in the broadest sense. And this makes a lot more sense in the context of repentance for wrongdoing: As a leader, when you make mistakes, there are consequences. Your enemies will take advantage of your weakened position.
But David doesn't waste his time apologizing to his enemies for his mistakes--that would do no good. His repentance, his tears, and his humility are directed to God alone. And once that's settled, once he is right with God again, listen to how his tone shifts. NOW he addresses his enemies, but with confidence and conviction.
Verses 8-10: "Depart from me, all you workers of evil, for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping. The Lord has heard my supplication; the Lord accepts my prayer. All my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror; they shall turn back and in a moment be put to shame."
At the conclusion of the Psalm, things have come around full circle: David and his God, once separated by David's failure, are now reunited through David's repentance and God's forgiveness. The terror and shame that David felt has passed to his enemies, who (presumably) do not know God, do not have the faith and trust in God that David relies upon.
This sudden turning at the end, from grief to conviction, from despair to hope, is a common feature of the Psalms--especially Psalms of repentance or lament. In fact, this entire Psalm is a pretty good model for how we can pray to God in the face of difficult circumstances. The pattern goes something like this:
- Approach God with humility, owning your part in whatever circumstances you find yourself in, and taking responsibility for your own actions. This part is entirely between you and God, not anyone else--but especially with God who sees and knows every aspect of your life, your thoughts, your heart, it's important to be honest.
- Ask for God's help, but then be open to the relationship that God wants to cultivate with you. Too often, I think when God "saves" us from disaster, we think "Whew, that's over!" and go about our lives as if God had nothing to do with it. David, by contrast, emphasizes that the whole reason he wants God's help is because he desires to be closer to God.
- Know there will still be tears. Even when God intervenes to save us from ourselves and from others... there are still consequences for our actions, and there is still heartbreak and sorrow that we must walk through in this life. David's tears come after his repentance, after his request for forgiveness. They are all-encompassing, but they are not without end.
- In your prayer to God, end with the confidence and the conviction that God has heard your prayer and accepted it in the genuine spirit in which it was offered. Even if nothing (on the surface) has changed, give thanks to God for the work inside you that has now begun, and the plans that God is putting in motion on your behalf.
Today is father's day, and although my own father has been gone from this world for 24 years, I still remember vividly the fear, the terror, and the dread I felt whenever I knew that I had to tell him something I had done wrong. I was afraid of his disappointment, his anger, of whatever punishment I would surely face. But somewhere deep inside, irrationally, I think I was most afraid of his abandonment--the idea that whatever I had done would cause a permanent and irrevocable separation between us.
Of course that never happened. I did some pretty stupid things as a kid, and brought a whole lot of consequences upon myself. There were many times my parents had to intervene to "rescue" me. And there were plenty of tears, too--angry tears, stubborn tears, regretful tears, and genuinely sorrowful tears.
But what I remember even more powerfully than all that is my father's forgiveness, his strong embrace and reassurance that nothing I could do could possibly outweigh his love for me. Sometimes, after a night of angry words and bitter arguing, I would wake up to the sound of my Dad in the kitchen, the smell of him cooking my favorite breakfast. It was his way of saying "I forgive you. I still love you." Sometimes, after I had owned my mistakes and suffered his wrath, he would suddenly change the subject and talk about something we both loved. Sometimes he would even tell a really bad, groan-worthy dad joke... and I knew that everything would be okay. I knew that I could face any challenges, any dangers, and that he would always have my back.
Today, as a father myself, I know that this is simply what dads do. It's what good parents do. I know the love I have for my children, the lengths I would go, the sacrifices I would make--right up to my very life--for their safety and their happiness. And as a Christian, as a child of God, and a student of the Psalms--I also know exactly where that kind of love originates, what inspires it, what teaches it, and who makes it possible. May all of us--children and parents, old and young, trouble-makers and role-models alike--May all of us run to the arms of our Heavenly Father, experience his great wrath and his greater mercy, his strong protection and his unyielding love.
