Ps. 42.9-10 (forgotten or powerless)

“I say / to God / my Rock – ‘Why / have you / forgotten me? – Why / must I walk / in darkness – because of / an enemy’s oppression?’ – With a breaking / in my bones – my foes / taunted me – by saying to me / all day long – ‘Where is your God?’” In many ways this is a reformulation of the “plea” and “taunt” of verses 1-2. The first section is the psalmist question to God, asking why he has allowed his enemies to oppress him. The image of being ‘forgotten’ is very familiar to us and, generally, refers to a time of injustice and persecution whereby the individual (or, community) senses it is not the object of God’s attention. We have termed this, in other contexts as the ‘hiatus’ between God’s knowing and his acting (they should be unified but often are not, at which time injustice is permitted to flourish and darkness to descend). What is important to note in this plea, as contrasting with the taunt, is that the psalmist sees himself as the object of God’s neglect. The ‘foes’, however, see things different and ask a different question. For them, their cruelty to the psalmist finds expression in accusing God of being absent, which is another way of saying he is impotent and powerless to protect the psalmist. This points to something we have noticed before: while the righteous often question why God doesn’t act they never question his ability to act; foes and enemies, on the other hand, almost always zero in on and accuse the psalmist of worshipping a god who can’t act. This is an important difference. There is however, as we discussed in our reflection on verses 1-2, an important unity to these two (the ‘plea’ and the ‘taunt’). And that is that both cause a tremendous amount of pain in the psalmist. The taunt, indeed, enters into him with the force of a massive shattering (“a breaking of my bones”). Likewise, the ‘forgetfulness’ of God is experienced as something that “must” happen (it would feel much different if he asked, “Why do I walk in darkness?”). This unity of suffering is the effect, internally, of the exile, for, in the pain of being taunted and shamed, the ‘forgetfulness’ of God is so dangerously close to wondering if, in fact, God can’t (or won’t) act; one can hear the question later posed of “Have you forgotten us forever?”. We might phrase it thus: that it is in the unity of the suffering that the psalmist is so profoundly divided against himself, oscillating between despair and hope (“O my soul, why are you downcast and so disturbed within me? Wait patiently for God, for I will praise him again, the victories of my God’s presence.” vs. 5, 6, 11, 43.5).