Soul Dejection

Psalms 42 & 43 Soul Dejection Have you ever felt really low in your spirits? Not really a very fair question because the truth is that we all, at times, can feel very down. And we can feel that way for many reasons. Perhaps we're simply feeling under par, a cold that's been lingering has brought us low, or maybe our circumstances aren't what we would like them to be so that we're worried both about our present and future. Perhaps we have problems at work or at home. Things that are more likely to be the case than ever due to our current situation with Covid 19. Possibly we're finding it difficult to deal with a certain person or situation in our lives; or maybe we just feel down and we don't know why, after all they do say that the vagaries of the weather can affect our mood. Whatever our reasons for low spirits, this was the sort of situation that the writer of Psalms 42 and 43 was faced with. And we're looking at both psalms today because, although they're separate psalms, it's felt by most commentators today that they do belong together because their language and themes are identical. According to the heading to psalm 42 the writer of our psalms was one of the sons of Korah, one of the musicians in the temple descended from Levi's great grandson. Although, actually, the theme and subject of our psalms would fit very well the situation of King David when his son Absalom sought to depose him from his throne and he was forced to flee from Jerusalem. Taking the two psalms together then we find that they can be split into three parts each of which ends with the same refrain: "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me?" So that we have verses 1-5 and 6-11 of psalm 42 as well as 1-5 of psalm 43. And as we begin our first section it seems that the psalmist is in exile, probably in the barren North of Palestine far away from the Temple in Jerusalem, where we find him mulling over his situation. And, as he thinks over his recent flight from his oppressors he feels cut off, rejected, dejected. Yet he doesn't sink into total despair and neither for that matter does he become bitter. Instead he recognises the root of his problem, his need of the Lord, so that he turns to Him, likening his position, as well as his feelings, to those of the deer that roams the wasteland searching for water to drink, its sides covered in sweat, its rib cage heaving, as it cries out in its desperation for the life giving liquid. For just "as the deer pants for streams of water" he says, "so my soul pants for you, O God. My soul thirsts for God, for the living God." You see the psalmist realises that, despite everything that's happened to him, all the difficulties that he's been facing, his greatest need is for God and that without him, in a similar way to the deer in its need for water, he'll faint away and eventually die. In other words he recognises that the deep dissatisfaction that he feels within himself can only be met by God, that whatever else he looks to bring him that satisfaction which he so craves will prove futile. And so he yearns to find God and to take deep draughts of him ... a feeling which surely we should all hope to emulate, and not only when we're experiencing some depression of spirit either. After all doesn't Jesus say in his sermon on the mount, Matthew chapter 5 and verse 6, "Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness". The truth being that although such who so thirst, Jesus goes onto say, "will be filled" nevertheless if their thirst is true thirsting after God, then even so they'll immediately begin again, wanting more. In fact we who hunger and thirst should be like the new born baby that cries out to its mother only to be satisfied for a while when it receives the milk it is looking for. And yet such obvious and complete dependence on God would probably be frowned upon today in a world where we're encouraged to be strong and independent, where we're taught not to rely on anyone because people, after all, let us down. But then that's not the case with our God, after all he's the one we were created to be dependent on, the one without whom we're not, and never will be, fully whole. And so the psalmist's very soul, everything that is best about him, cries out for God, for the living God, not just for some temporary, quick fix idol, which the world offers us countless examples of, but for the dynamic, ever-present, truly genuine responding God. The psalmist demands satisfaction ... "When can I go and meet with God?" he asks. In verse 4 he remembers back when he "used to go with the multitude leading the procession to the house of God, with shouts of Joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng". And he longs to go and meet with Him again along with the multitude. Now there are those who'll tell us that you don't need to go to church to be a Christian, and perhaps over these last months when we've not been able to enter the church for worship we ourselves have begun to wonder about this. Well the psalmist would disagree with such sentiments, because you see he doesn't just long for God rather he longs to worship God amongst his fellow believers. More than that, he yearns to be with his friends in the house of God where they can meet with God together. And whilst I know that there are some who won't be able to join us when we return to our own church next week, nevertheless they long for the day when they'll be able to do so. Back in verse 3 we discover the true situation for the psalmist; "My tears have been my food day and night", he tells us, "while men say to me all day long, 'Where is your God?'" The people around him know of his afflictions but they also know that he is a worshipper of God, one who no doubt has always sung the Lords praises and so they tease him saying, "Well, where is your God now?". And this is pure cruelty because, actually, they know how much he's suffering already and the answer to their question doesn't really matter to them. They have their own gods to whom they look for the answers to life's difficulties. However for the psalmist their words have the effect of rubbing salt into the wound, and of raising doubts in his mind regarding God's love for him, and so he weeps. This questioning of our faith is of course one of Satan's favourite weapons. Remember how he addressed Jesus himself in the desert saying: "If you are the Son of God". And when we ourselves pass through dark times is it not often the case that we hear voices, real or imagined, asking us if we're sure that God does indeed love us, if it's really true that he knows and cares about us as we've always thought. Or is it the case that we were wrong all the time? There's always the temptation to think that living the Christian life should somehow mean deliverance from trouble, whereas actually it is about deliverance in trouble. After all in John chapter 16 verse 33 Jesus tells us: "In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." Now though in response the psalmist turns in on himself, and rouses himself speaking to his soul and demanding: "Why are you downcast, why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God." Like the writer of Psalm 121 he lifts his eyes from his present troubles and looks beyond to the hills asking: "where does my help come from" and faith replies, "My help comes from the Lord". You see his faith begins to reason with his fears, his hope in Gods mercy argues with his sorrows. As Spurgeon says he demonstrates that, "To search out the cause of our sorrow is often the best surgery for grief, Self-ignorance is not bliss; in this case it is misery." Because the truth is that if, when we're down, we allow our thoughts and energies to be caught up in the foam and froth of the world around us then the chances are we'll become lost, senseless, manic. Instead we should seek God ... seek sanity, seek peace, seek refreshment and fulfilment. This the psalmist does, he looks to praise God, recognising the reality of what he can't see, and, just as Paul and Silas will later to discover when chained together in the Philippian Prison in Acts chapter 16, he discovers the chains beginning to break and the walls to shake. However in verse 6 he's hit by yet another wave of dejection as, remembering again past times of joy, the sad reality of the present threatens to swamp him once more. And on top of this even the very nature around him seems to be against him, almost as if it's reflecting his feelings within. In that part of the world sudden water spouts can appear from the sky raining deluges down from the clouds to the ground below, causing the streams to fill and overflow as the water rushes noisily downwards, deep calling to deep. And in a similar way, says the psalmist, "in the roar of your waterfalls all your waves and breakers have swept over me." Down once more, but this time he doesn't stay down for long. Now he's ready for his feelings of depression because the waves and breakers haven't fully swept over him. Instead now the psalmist remembers God's great love for his own, which he directs by day (verse 8) and so he's able to respond in the right way, in song and through prayer. And then he does what perhaps might surprise us because, recognising that God is his rock and therefore standing in a position of strength and stability, he begins in his prayer to enquire of God just what's going on. Not like his enemies from a position of unbelief and scepticism but from his position of declared faith. The fact is that it isn't wrong to ask God: "why?" We aren't expected to take everything that might be being thrown at us without seeking reasons of God. Perhaps like Job we won't get the answers in the form that we'd have wished, but Job wasn't chastised for asking. And let's remember: Jesus didn't just go around teaching, no he was also listening and answering his disciples' questions. As Spurgeon again says, "If the Lord is indeed our refuge, when we find no refuge, it is time to be raising the question, 'why is this'". And this is just what the psalmist does, asking the Lord (verses 9 and 10): "Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy? My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me, saying to me all day long, 'where is your God?'" And then, as he waits for an answer, seeking to understand more fully his condition, it dawns upon him that his problems aren't so overwhelming after all. But that God is sufficient for all his needs. So that once again, this time with more enthusiasm, he challenges himself: "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Saviour and my God." It's been suggested that if Psalm 42 reflects the feelings of the writer in his exile then Psalm 43 reflects his feelings as he prepares to return to Jerusalem. Because now, as he considers his difficulties, the fact of God's faithfulness to him comes quickly and brushes them aside. So that in verse 1 of this psalm it's now God who's going to "vindicate (him) and plead (his) cause against an ungodly nation". God who will rescue him "from deceitful and wicked men". And when he is tempted again by the thought that God has rejected him in verse 2 causing him to go about mourning and oppressed, well now he remembers God's light and his truth, praying that they might bring him to the Lord's holy mountain, where he dwells, to Jerusalem where the temple is. So that he's able to say, with rising notes of triumph in his voice "Then I will go to the altar of God, to God, my joy and my delight. I will praise you with the harp, O God, my God." As C. S. Lewis says "it's as if (his) fingers itch for the harp." And so, finally, the psalmist is able to declare from a position of true confidence, now knowing the answers: "Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God for I will yet praise him, my saviour and my God." He's come a long way from the depths of sorrow and self-pity to the heights of triumph and praise, and this is because his eyes were focused aright. From the beginning when his circumstances threatened to overwhelm him he saw with the eyes of faith what his true need was, that the need within him was for God, that it couldn't be satisfied by anything else, not by the many idols of those who mocked him but only by the living God. And so he trusted in God who rewarded his faith with blessing and restoration and even more ground for faith. And yet it is tempting isn't it, when troubles come, to look elsewhere, to the "as yet untried", to that which gives immediate satisfaction but long term disappointment, rather than to him who is "the sun of righteousness", who "will rise with healing in his wings", such that we'll "go out and leap like calves released from the stall", trampling "down the wicked" who "will be ashes under the souls of (our) feet". (Malachi 4 verses 2 and 3) On this subject Oswald Chambers tells us "God does not give us overcoming life: he gives us life as we overcome. The strain is the strength. If there is no strain, there is no strength. Are you asking God to give you life and liberty and joy? He cannot unless you will accept the strain. Immediately you face the strain, you will get the strength. If you spend yourself out physically, you become exhausted; but spend yourself spiritually, and you get more strength. God never gives strength for tomorrow, or for the next hour, but only for the strain of the minute. The temptation is to face difficulties from a common sense standpoint. The saint is hilarious when he is crushed with difficulties because the thing is so ludicrously impossible to anyone but God." So then, as the writer to the Hebrews says, let's in all circumstances look to God, "to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith", continually thirsting for God, the living God, continually reminding ourselves to put our hope in him ... that we might yet praise him, our saviour and our God. Amen