Ps. 39.12-13 (abandoning the promise?)

“Hear / my prayer / O Yhwh – and give heed / to my cry; - do not be deaf / to my tears. – For / with you / I am an alien – a sojourner / like all my fathers. – Look away / that I may / be cheerful – before I go / and no longer exist.” These concluding lines represent a startling conclusion to the psalm (although, it only serves to affirm most of our reflections thus far). Initially, it must be point out what the psalmist is asking Yhwh to ‘hear’. The prayer is contained in the concluding lines: “look away”. Thus far, in all thirty-eight of the psalms we have looked at, I do not believe a psalmist has ever asked Yhwh to “look away”. In fact, the opposite has been (universally) the case: that Yhwh would ‘turn’ and “look upon me”. We have described the dilemma in most other psalms as one of a hiatus: the span between Yhwh’s perceiving of trouble and his acting upon it. The psalmists are almost always attempting to close that gap. So, for example, they ask that Yhwh ‘hear’ their plea, or ‘not be deaf’ to their urgings. Or, they ask “how long” will you stand far off? Here, and by an incredibly disturbing reversal, the psalmist employs all of these traditional petitions of “hearing” and “giving heed to my cry”, except that now, instead of closing the gap he is asking that it be widened! He wants Yhwh to turn away. It is as shocking as possible. It is, however, also very much in line with a possible trajectory of the psalm. We have seen throughout that the vanity imposed upon the psalmist’s life (and, indeed all of humanity) is one given by Yhwh. Arguably, this psalm is one of the possible prayers by his faithful after the subjection of all things to futility after the fall. In light of this futility the psalmist, in a way, turns toward creation, as the source of his happiness and away from Yhwh. It is at this point that we need to closely look at the central line: “For with you I am an alien, a sojourner like all my fathers.” The first thing to note is that it is “with you” that he is an alien. This, again, highlights the fact that he psalmist sees Yhwh as the source of his ‘alienation’ and vanity. Importantly in this regard is the apparent fact that now, rather than speaking of man as ‘vapor’, the psalmist’s chief complaint is one rooted in his relationship to the land. I think this is absolutely crucial to grasp. We saw, in verse 6 that man ‘walks about’, in seemingly directionless gestures of absurdity. Here, though, we wonder if this ‘walking about’ is not a type of ‘alienation’ from the land, a type of ‘wandering’ (as in the dessert). Regardless, what is clear is that the psalmist’s frustration at finding a home within the land could be at the root of his understanding of the futility of all creation. And is not this a poignant reflection on Genesis as well? That once they were ‘expelled’ and ‘made aliens’ from the garden, they were forced to ‘wander about’. And, that at the conclusion of the Pentateuch, when Moses and Israel were to once again ‘inhabit the land’, their leader dies without ever having entered it. Which leads into the second half of the line: “a sojourner like my fathers.” The full impact is now felt. It is precisely the promise to the ‘fathers’ of ‘peace within the land’ that has, probably, been the source of all the psalmist’s frustrations and perception of vanity. This is why it is “with Yhwh” that alienation occurs—it is Yhwh’s promise that has remained perpetually unfulfilled that has descended, like dark cloud, over the psalmist. In other words, it is within the promise of the land that the perception of the vanity of the created order emerges. Just as the flaming sword prevents entrance into the garden, so too does the curse that has descended upon creation prevent man from finding rest. The land is somewhat analogous to what Paul will later say of the law: that although good, it became a source of sin and frustration. And so the dilemma has been made very acute: if one is “with Yhwh” one is perpetually made aware of the futility of creation (and man) to obtain to the goal of his being; it is, in a way, guarantee of the vanity. If, on the other hand, Yhwh ‘turns from (or, away)’ from the psalmist, the world will, oddly, become a home to him. Something of Eden will find the psalmist. Is the psalmist, in this final line, abandoning the promise, asking that he be disinherited from his ‘fathers’ so that he can find happiness? And, if so, can we find anything to salvage? I think there is and will provide it in the following reflection