Thursday, December 1, 2011

Ps. 30.13 (the distance demanded by covenental trust)

“I have passed / from memory / like one / who is dead; - I have become / a broken vessel.” The repetition of “I have…” is important here as it looks back to the vs. 12 “I have become a reproach, to my neighbors.” There is the sense here of a steadily deteriorating state. His ‘passing from memory’ is one which has occurred as he has become steadily moved to the edges of social life. At some point he actually moves “beyond the pale” and is forgotten, existing in a type of no man’s land, no longer a perceived ‘reproach’ but, rather, utterly invisible. To be in such a state is to exist, while alive, in Sheol—the place where ‘memory’ is no more (Ps. 6). One envisions him disintegrating in the mind of the community like a puff of smoke, utterly ignored and inconsequential. This is the last step, beyond reproach, to which one can sink before death itself. The second image of a ‘broken vessel’ is important in two aspects. First, on just the literal level, he has become useless, no longer able to bear the ‘life within him’ (bodily and social). Along these same lines, one does not ‘remake’ a broken vessel; it is good for nothing but discarding. This physical uselessness is the mirror image of the social uselessness he has become (in being forgotten). A second reason this is important is because of images of broken pottery in other passages, particularly Ps. 2 and Jeremiah. In both of those the ‘breaking’ comes from an external shattering and is an act of judgment. As hinted at above, it is important to note that the vessel is there to contain or hold something (water or otherwise). Once this is lost, the entire purpose of its existence has been compromised. Adding these together, we see that the adversaries have been that shattering force, in a perverse act of judgment, as they (with their voices) rob the psalmist of his very nature. This sense of total destruction is key to understanding the following: that the psalmist sees in Yhwh the ability to restore what is, for all intents and purposes, unable to be redeemed. For the psalmist, his trust in Yhwh, both causes him to sink to this level of ‘uselessness’ and ‘of being forgotten’ but only because he has remained covenantally open to Yhwh’s ability to restore/redeem him. What I mean is this: only an astonishing trust would enable him to see in his shattered existence the possibility of Yhwh’s remaking/redeeming and covenantal care; I cannot but help thinking of Ezekiel’s vision of the valley of dry bones and the resulting ‘resurrection’ and Isaiah’s ‘Suffering Servant’. And, I believe, such (covenantal) trust comes about through what we have called “enacting the first commandment”. In essence, the more he puts his trust in Yhwh (enacts the first commandment) the further down he is able to sink: here the point of utter uselessness and of being forgotten. The reason being that this space (this sinking) is demanded by the covenantal commandment. This, of course, emphasizes the distance. The point, though, is that it is precisely this amazing distance that can be filled by Yhwh’s saving/redeeming covenantal power (hence, it can actually redeem shattered pottery and scattered bones: it can, in a word, resurrect…). In Christ, who quotes this psalm, the ‘space’ will be absolute (death) and, thereby, the covenantal power will, likewise become absolute (resurrection)—every ‘space’ will be filled.

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