The missing ingredient that leads to transformation (Psalm 43)
Ps 43:1-5
My husband regularly teases me about the conversational jumps I make that seem to come out of the blue. The truth is that after saying something, the thought continues in my head so vividly that I forget I have not spoken it out loud, so that when I next speak, there is a gap. Our internal monologue can be useful in the thinking process or releasing emotions, but it cannot replace conversation. In my previous post, I wrote about handling the absence of God and the importance of memory in that process. Psalm 42 highlighted the internal monologue of the psalmist as he was talking to himself about his past experiences, present distress and what he intended to say to God. Yet, it can take him only so far and the repeated refrain at the end of the psalm (Ps 42:11) leaves readers in a sense of limbo. Despair still has the upper hand, and hope is only a glimmer of light.
A change of tone
Psalm 43, which is often treated as one unit with Psalm 42 (see the refrain again in Ps 43:5), carries forward the themes of being removed from God’s presence and the centre of worship (Ps 43:3) and the mocking of the enemies (Ps 43:1-2). However, its tone moves more definitively towards hope, so that by the end, despair sounds like a diminishing echo and hope an increasing crescendo. The most obvious difference is the shift from a predominantly internal monologue with the occasional remark to God (Ps 42:1, 6) to prayer and direct address of the Lord. Our psalm starts where the previous one ended (Ps 42:9-10). It complains against the enemy and laments God’s abandonment but does so to God Himself and pleads for vindication and deliverance (Ps 43:1-2). That appeal to the Lord is, in itself, a movement towards trust, though it is initially mingled with disappointment, even bitterness.
God’s truth
The situation behind the psalmist’s distress is opaque, but the point is not to try and penetrate it but to notice the shift as the focus moves from appeals for immediate deliverance and a venting of feelings to asking for God’s truth. The psalmist envisages a journey to a physical location (the Jerusalem temple), but his request for truth highlights that the obstacles for visiting the temple are not simply external (such as illness or exile). Rather, he needs a different perspective. As he prays, his trust grows, so that he can finally envisage himself back in the temple (Ps 43:4) and his hope soars. Although still in the future, he already anticipates the joy of the relationship and praising God (v.4). In this light, hope and praise is thrown into relief in the final refrain (Ps 43:5).
The missing ingredient in transformation
Prayer, then, is meant to be transformational. Although speaking to God may seem no different from speaking to ourselves, the Lord hears and responds. Prayer, like conversation, is a two-way street. Sustained conversation with God will lead us away from only seeing the surface to the deeper issues. It can change our focus and priorities from what is immediate to the root cause of the matter, just as it did for the psalmist. But how does God speak to us? The Bible does not encourage a mystical direction of emptying our minds (we should love God with our mind, as well as our feelings and will; Deut 6:4).[1] Rather, the truth the psalmist has in view is God’s revealed Word, primarily the Law for Israelites and the whole of Scripture (as we now recognise it) for us. The Holy Spirit can help us apply the truth in God’s Word as we read it individually, in a group, hear it explained in a sermon or brought up in conversation with others. He can remind or guide us to it as we pray but also as we go about our lives. Prayer is key, because it is our opening of the door to let Him speak to us and give us new perspective and insight.
[1] In the Old Testament, the heart is primarily the centre of the thought and will. What Deuteronomy describes as the soul encompasses the emotional aspects of a person as well.
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