If you’re reading this blog right now, you’re probably going through a particularly hard time, mentally, and I am, as well.
The question we ask, over and over, is ‘why,” and our theology tries to answer, but does the answer we find ever satisfy or resolve?
Emotionally, rarely.
Maybe theologically and medically. But not emotionally.
That’s why I like Psalm 42. Its despair is familiar and, thus, makes us feel less alone.
“Why are you depressed, O my soul?”
“Why are you upset?” (the Hebrew means “turmoil”).
Then later, he returns:
“Why are you depressed, O my soul?”
“Why are you upset?”
He asks “Why?” four times, and can’t find a reason.
Some flummoxed commentators wonder whether it’s because he’s in a foreign land, cut off from the temple.
Their guess is possible, but that doesn’t seem a likely explanation.
If severing is the answer, why would he ask “Why?”
He wouldn’t seem so confused at his turmoil. He’d simply say, “I’m upset because I’m cut off.”
Instead, he sounds as stumped as we do when we ask the question, “Why?”
We look at our life and can’t find anything especially overwhelming or depressing, but are still overwhelmed and depressed and ask ourselves, “Why?”
Some well-meaning Christians will try to pull something positive from the Psalmist’s despair and point out, “notice what he says next: ‘Wait for God!’
In fact, many translations are so presumptions as to use “hope” instead of “wait.”
But the New English Translation, which is unparalleled in its fealty to the original text, throws a bit of cold water on the traditional interpretation that equates “waiting” with “hopeful expectation.”
NET Bible’s notes (Emphasis added).
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“In some contexts, the person waiting is hopeful or expectant (Isaiah 42:4; Ezekial 13:6).
A number of translations use ‘hope’ (NASB, NIV, NRSV, ESV).
This makes assumptions about what the Psalmist says to himself.
The Psalmist presents a mixture of emotions and is at odds with himself.
Given his level of distress, it is very possible that he is telling himself (his soul) to just hang on and not give up, while another part of him is confident that he will have reason to praise God in the future.
The translation ‘wait for God’ invites more consideration of the possible emotional state of the Psalmist.
The nuance may be to ‘hope against hope,’ to ‘gut it out’ in faith despite not feeling hopeful.”
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In other words, translators, pastors, your local Bible study leader might think they’re doing a good service by making the cheery assumption that the Psalmist is full of hope, but that does the text a disservice.
And, strangely, it does you and me a disservice, as well.
The Bible is far more compelling when it’s recognizable, isn’t it?
And this set of verses is particularly compelling for those of us with anxiety.
We know that one of the symptoms of Generalized Anxiety Disorder is an inability to find the “why” to why we’re feeling such dread, doom, and turmoil.
Now of course we can’t go back in time and clinically diagnose the Psalmist (there’s a dispute over its author), but it seems likely he was dealing with the same inexplicable anxiety that haunts you and me.
A cry of “why” over a turmoil that swirls, for no apparent reason.
If we knew why, it would be much easier to accept and then address.
But the Psalmist doesn’t know why, either.
That leads him to deliver one of the most gut-punch lines in the Old Testament: “Day and night I have only tears for food.”
The thing that normally keeps us alive (food) has become the thing that threatens to undo us because tears have turned into our food.
The 19th century Baptist preacher, Charles Spurgeon, felt what the Psalmist, you and I have felt.
He had this to say in two sermons, “The Saddest Cry of the Cross” and “Night and Jesus Not There.”
“Quite involuntarily, unhappiness of mind, depression of spirit, and sorrow of heart will come upon you. You may be without any real reason for grief, and yet may become among the most unhappy of men.”
“There is a kind of mental darkness, in which you are disturbed, perplexed, worried, troubled – not, perhaps, about anything tangible.”
This is an anxiety disorder, and it’s treatable, but sometimes, it spikes for no apparent reason to depths we hadn’t known.
And we pray, then, “Why?”
Just as the Psalmist.
So what do we do?
Keep praying, like the Psalmist, and look for medical treatment, and until it works, “gut it out in faith despite not feeling hopeful.” Just like the Psalmist.
So until then, here’s a psychiatrist and therapist in your area.
God bless you, friend. “Despair” doesn’t do our despair justice.
But there’s always treatment, and things will turn around when you least expect it.
After all, if they turned south, for no apparent reason, when you least expected it, why can’t they turn up, in the same way?
Oh, and did I mention? Here’s a psychiatrist and therapist near you.
[Painting: Melancholia, Anselm Keifer]
