Psalm 142 is David’s prayer in the cave in the wilderness. Being chased by Saul, he ended up in this cave where he could only talk to himself and God. David talked to himself: His talking became his self-examination and contemplation. David talked to God: His talking became his prayer, and he became a pray-er.
David was a poet. He articulated his thoughts. He structured his talks. He developed his imagination about God in the wilderness. He related to God in an intimate way. He talked to God theologically and relationally. He talked to God with his head as well as his heart.
“I cry out to the Lord;
I plead for the Lord’s mercy” (Ps. 142:1).
In the Book of Psalms, psalmists intentionally repeat themselves. Line 2 reiterates line 1. But it’s more than reiteration. It clarifies as well as elaborates it. It’s called Synonymous Parallelism. In Old Testament poetry, such repetition invites readers to slow down. It invites us not to move on so fast. It’s time to slow down, to look at the heart of the psalmist, to enter into his experiences, and to identify such experiences with ours today. Repetition slows us down. Life is repetitive and yet multi-layered. Only slow pace can pare it off and see it through. In this case, a psalm of David invites us to get in touch with David’s heart through David’s prayer so that we can be touched by the heart of God who touched the heart of David in the text.
“I pour out my complaints before him
and tell him all my troubles.
For I am overwhelmed,” (Ps. 142:2-3a)
In the cave, David was aware of external troubles. He was in the desert, anyway. What about internal turmoil? His troubles from within? Kenneth Leech wrote, “It is in solitude that we begin to discover our true self, and this begins with an awakening to the unreality of our false self. The desert is initially a negative encounter; it is the place where illusions are smashed, the place of stripping, of unmasking, of purgation. It is therefore inevitably a place of great pain and upheaval.”[1]
The other day Sue and I talked and said that people in general look for success in the first half of life. For the second half, they tend to aim at significance. The reality of whether we are able to live significantly has made her to ask and seek the meaning and purpose of life. So do I. According to Daniel Levinson’s Development Model, Sue and I are in the stage called “Early Adulthood Era”, which is divided into four stages:[2]
1. Early Adult Transition: Age 17-22;
2. Entry Life Structure for Early Adulthood: 22-28;
3. Age 30 Transition: 28-33;
4. Culminating Life Structure for Early Adulthood: 33-40.
At this stage of life, transition and integration are the two key terms to describe our state. We are, of course, not successful. (Maybe she is. But we have a joint bank account.) Because we are pretty much set in terms of education, career, marriage, etc… and we have reached this life stage, the reality of significance starts to hit us. For us, there may be some new possibilities like having kids and pursuing higher education. Anyhow, what we have or do not have, what we can or cannot achieve, we have tasted the possibilities and known our limits. We still dream, but we only dream with our feet on the ground.
We go to this school. We choose that major. We discipline. We work hard. Success is not too far to reach. But, significance is a different ball game. It cannot be grasped with ambition, intellect, and hard-working. It has to do with our listening and discerning: to listen and discern our inner voices and His still small voice in our hearts. It is passive-aggressive. It is not about what people expect of us. It is not about how the world looks at us. It is about us and our God.
Could David suffer from a compelling reality of significance?
“You alone know the way
I should turn” (Ps. 142:3b).
As David prayed, his prayerful language started to shift from “the Lord” and “Him” to “You.” When we read the Psalms, this is what we need to pay attention to. A change of pronoun can be a marker to indicate a change of relationship between a pray-er and his God. Pronoun can be an intimate language in prayer. In David’s prayer, God is no longer someone who is out there. Rather, in prayer, the wholly Other becomes the intimate companion.
God can be known. We can be known. We cannot fully comprehend Him; however, He knows us inside out. We don’t know it all. We can possibly think of one or two ways in us according to our limited knowledge. But God knows the Way in us according to His unlimited knowledge.
“Wherever I go,
my enemies have set traps for me.
I look for someone to come and help me,
but no one gives me a passing thought!
No one will help me;
no cares a bit what happens to me." (Ps. 142: 3c-4)
Wherever David turned to, he was trapped. For David, no one seemed to be helpful and have understanding. Wilderness indicates solitude and aloneness. It is a stage where David needed to approach God with his lostness and emptiness. Friends are there. They can offer helps and walk alongside us. But they cannot walk that path for us. God has a path for each of us. In the path, sooner or later, the stage of wilderness will emerge. Where do we turn to? When David turned outward, he was trapped; downward, blocked; and inward, emptied. The upward way is the Way he can turn:
“Then I pray to you, O Lord.
I say, “You are my place of refuge.
You are all I really want in life.
Hear my cry,
for I am very low.
Rescue me from my persecutors,
for they are too strong for me.
Bring me out of prison
so I can thank you.
The godly will crowd around me,
for you treat me kindly” (Ps. 142:5-7).
At the end, the mood of the psalm shifts from distress to hope, from lament to thanksgiving, and from disorientation to new orientation. Each psalm is a unique journey. It’s a pilgrim’s soulful pilgrimage. It may start off with unknown and uncertainty. With God’s own mercy and kindness, He will show us the way.
You're not in the early adulthood stage - you're in the really old stage!!
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You...suckers...
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