Ps. 31.1 (the weight of iniquity)

“Blessed / is he / whose transgression / is lifted – whose sin / is covered. – Blessed / is the man / against whom / Yhwh / counts no iniquity – and in whose spirit / there is no deceit.” At first glance, there is something a little odd about how this psalm opens. Often, when we hear the words “blessed is…” it is followed with either an action performed (“he whose delight is torah”) or an action avoided (“he who does not take interest on a loan”). The idea, found in much wisdom literature, is that there is a type of internal justice at work in the world by which one can measure (or, order) one’s life. It is something gleaned from experience (hence, why it is ‘wisdom’). If one performs rightly, one is rewarded; if one performs ‘foolishly’, one suffers the inevitable outworking of one’s folly. Furthermore, there is the sense in the literature that whether one lives in ‘wisdom’ or in ‘folly’, the reality is that one who enacts either is really enacted by them (i.e., our actions ‘perform’ us more than we perform our actions; there is a ‘power’ at work in them that takes us into their possession, or presence). The point is that this opening strikes a different note entirely. “Blessedness” here consists of something being done to the individual; not something he performs or avoids. The one acting is Yhwh. This is important for several reasons. Punishment, as we have seen, is something that is not so much performed by Yhwh, but, as we alluded to above, something that is internal to the act of wickedness (Yhwh merely ‘lets’ it happen). But here, when cause of that punishment is removed, we do see the active work of Yhwh. This is not some ‘internal’ working of forgiveness. Rather, Yhwh “lifts”, “covers” and “does not count.” Yhwh intervenes in the natural outworking of punishment in order to thwart its conclusion. Yhwh overrides what would occur ‘under its own steam’, thereby showing himself to be both the guarantor of that order and its ‘lord’; he can redeem from its power those who confess (as we will see later) their error. (It is crucial to note that this action by Yhwh is something performed in a cultic manner—through the offering of sacrifices. It is not something, therefore, ‘abiding’ like wisdom herself.) The psalmist therefore employs this traditional wisdom structure of “blessed is he…” but by centering the action solely in Yhwh, he shows Yhwh to be at the heart (and head) of all wisdom—only Yhwh can, when necessary, redeem from its “eye for an eye” necessity.  With that in mind, we now turn to the specific language. “Transgression is lifted”: although not stated it is clear that this ‘lifting’ is done by Yhwh himself. The picture here is of transgression being a heavy weight that Yhwh pulls off of the psalmist; it is, apparently, something he cannot remove from himself. This image is key to understanding the rest of the psalm: to carry a heavy weight requires and consumes one’s attention. It is exhausting precisely because it is continuous and demanding; for those who suffer from it, it seems as if it, alone, does not sleep, nor does its eye ever close or waiver. We might get at the idea by speaking of ‘oppression’, a term more ‘internally’ oriented but carrying the same all-consuming sense of weightiness. it is a term of ‘weight bearing’. Furthermore, we must acknowledge that this is something the psalmist has brought upon himself; he invited this “transgression” in. Once inside, though, the guest became the master of the house (entering through the door it quickly unfurled itself to consume the home, bearing its weight down upon the psalmist). It may be that this ‘transgression’, as against Yhwh, is something that only Yhwh himself has jurisdiction to remove. The psalmist is owned by Yhwh. His permitting himself to be ‘invaded’ was, therefore, an act of treason against Yhwh and can only be removed by Yhwh. This is speculative, of course, but it does seem to cohere with the psalm in that this transgression is something against Yhwh and is therefore relational—meaning, this ‘weightiness’ is not something that is purely individual but results from the psalmist’s stance vis-a-vi Yhwh; it is his offense to Yhwh that is the weight bearing down on him and not simply (although it probably would include this) his ‘guilty conscience’. As to wisdom one might be a ‘fool’ but, as to one in covenant with Yhwh, one is a ‘transgressor’. Later in the psalm, the psalmist specifically states that his ‘transgression’ is ‘to Yhwh’. Which leads to the final thought regarding ‘transgression’—the psalmist later describes Yhwh’s hand as “day and night” being “heavy upon me”. There is here a rather interesting play on weightiness: transgression weighs down; Yhwh’s hand is ‘heavy upon me’. Once we see ‘transgression’ as a relational term (it is not a third ‘thing’ between the psalmist and Yhwh), these two images cohere: to transgress the relationship is to commit an act that, in a sense, calls Yhwh’s hand down (and, around). It is as if Yhwh presses this broken relationship down upon the psalmist in order to by sheer force make him confess. Yhwh surrounds the psalmist with the reality of his deviation. The ‘lifting’, then, of this transgression would also be the loosening grip of Yhwh’s hand (what had, before, surrounded him “day and night”). This is important to note: for those who commit iniquity, Yhwh is experienced as a heavy, oppressive force who surrounds the individual with the broken relationship’s reality; for those who confess, Yhwh’s ‘lifting’ of the iniquity is experienced as the broadening sense of freedom, as if a cast had been removed.