A song. A Psalm of the sons of Korah. For the choirmaster. According to Mahalath Leannoth. A Maskil of Heman the Ezrahite.
1 O LORD, the God of my salvation,
day and night I cry out before You.
2 May my prayer come before You;
incline Your ear to my cry.
3 For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
4 I am counted among those descending to the Pit.
I am like a man without strength.
5 I am forsaken among the dead,
like the slain who lie in the grave,
whom You remember no more,
who are cut off from Your care.
6 You have laid me in the lowest Pit,
in the darkest of the depths.
7 Your wrath weighs heavily upon me;
all Your waves have submerged me.
Selah
8 You have removed my friends from me;
You have made me repulsive to them;
I am confined and cannot escape.
9 My eyes grow dim with grief.
I call to You daily, O LORD;
I spread out my hands to You.
10 Do You work wonders for the dead?
Do departed spirits rise up to praise You?
Selah
11 Can Your loving devotion be proclaimed in the grave,
Your faithfulness in Abaddon?
12 Will Your wonders be known in the darkness,
or Your righteousness in the land of oblivion?
13 But to You, O LORD, I cry for help;
in the morning my prayer comes before You.
14 Why, O LORD, do You reject me?
Why do You hide Your face from me?
15 From my youth I was afflicted and near death.
I have borne Your terrors; I am in despair.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
Your terrors have destroyed me.
17 All day long they engulf me like water;
they enclose me on every side.
18 You have removed my beloved and my friend;
darkness is my closest companion.
REFLECTIONS
Written by Stephen Shead
This is one of the darkest Psalms of all. Almost all the Psalms of lament end with an expression of trust or hope in God. Psalm 88 is an exception. The writer had been suffering for a long time, and was now lonely, abandoned, close to death, and in near despair.
There is one positive thing about the Psalm – this might seem like a small thing, but it’s SO important: Even in the deepest darkness, when he is crying out in agony, he cries out to God. He asks God, just once, to hear his cry for help (v2). He calls him “O LORD God who delivers me” (v1), even though he sees no deliverance.
That is enough for this pitiful cry to be included in God’s holy Scriptures. Even this is faith.
So, what can I relate to? I’ve had periods of being unable to feel any joy, of feeling overwhelmed and trapped by darkness (v 6-8). So I find it so reassuring that God has consecrated the weakest cry to him, from within the darkness, as faith.
Is there anything that reminds me of Jesus? Well, it makes me wonder whether this is how Jesus felt in the garden of Gethsemane, as he stared into the Pit of the wrath of God against all mankind.
But most of all, I am relieved and grateful to live on this side of the resurrection of Jesus. This poor Old Covenant saint didn’t have a sure knowledge or picture of hope beyond death. I feel so sorry for him, because he thought the answer to all his terrible questions in verses 10-11 was “No” – “Do you accomplish amazing things for the dead? Do the departed spirits rise up and give you thanks? Is your loyal love proclaimed in the grave, or your faithfulness in the place of the dead?”
It's such a huge blessing that for us, even when we’re in the darkest pit of depression, we know that the resurrection has changed all the answers to a resounding “Yes!”, and that the darkness will one day give way to joy. And this Psalm gives me a new urgency to want my non-Christian friends and family to have that same assurance.
