Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress;

my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also. (Ps. 31:9)

Troubled people often find comfort in the Psalms, where poems that testify of distress and redemption gave voice to the cares and inspired the hopes of the ancient Hebrews. Embodied in the evolving Hebrew scriptures, the psalms were also familiar to first century Jews and early followers of Christ.

Despite our very different historical and cultural settings, the same psalms remain meaningful to Christians today, as evidenced by their frequent appearance in the lectionary and in pocket copies of “The New Testament and Psalms.”

Psalm 31 evokes images of the passion of Christ, including the phrase “Into your hand I commit my spirit,” so it comes as no surprise that portions of the psalm would be read during Holy Week.

            Four different excerpts from Psalm 31 appear in the lectionary, and those that exclude vv. 6-16 could lead one to think it is entirely a psalm of thanksgiving. When read in full, however, the psalm is primarily a lament, albeit studded with elements of both trust and praise. This is surprisingly common in the psalms of lament. For study purposes, it’s best to consider the whole. [DD]

A rock and a refuge

(vv. 1-8)

The psalm relies heavily on formulaic language common to the poetry of lament, providing little in the way of specifics that might help us identify a particular situation of distress. This can be good, as it allows modern readers to imagine ourselves in the psalmist’s sandals.

The author speaks of enemies who would entrap him (vv. 4, 7, 8), physical illness (vv. 9-10), community ostracism (vv. 11-13), and persecution from those who would lie to cause him shame (vv. 15-18). We have no way of knowing whether to read these as literal challenges or metaphorical expressions, but the distress was clearly real.

            Verses 1-5 constitute a prayer for God to protect the psalmist from shame, to deliver him and to become a “rock of refuge for me, a strong fortress to save me” (vv. 1-2). An editorial superscription associates the psalm with David, who fled to the “fortress of Adullam” and found refuge in the rocky cliffs and caves of southern Judea when Saul sought to kill him (1 Samuel 22-26). A psalm attributed to David in 2 Samuel 22, repeated as Psalm 18 and associated with that period begins: “The LORD is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer, my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold and my refuge, my savior; you save me from violence (2 Sam. 22:2-3, Ps. 18:2).

            The author of Psalm 31 likewise turns to God as a strong refuge, expressing trust that God will come through: “You are indeed my rock and my fortress; for your name’s sake lead me and guide me” (v. 3). In v. 5 we find the words of trust later quoted by Jesus, “Into your hand I commit my spirit,” though the context is quite different. The psalmist spoke of committing his spirit to God in hopes of being saved from whatever threatened him. Jesus committed his spirit to God without expecting deliverance, trusting God in death rather than seeking to escape it.

            The poet turns to an expression of trust in vv. 6-8, suggesting a sense of assurance that God would preserve him. Compared to those who worshiped “worthless idols,” he trusted in the famed steadfast love of Yahweh (Exod. 34:6), and he believed that God would save him from the unnamed enemy. In words reminiscent of Psa. 118:5, he declared “you have set my feet in a broad place.”

            The deliverance he asked for and trusted God for was not yet a reality, however. God had not delivered him “into the hand of the enemy,” but had not fully delivered him from his predicament, either.

A cry in distress

(vv. 9-18)

The poet lapses into lament in v. 9, beseeching God’s help in his precarious situation: “Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress.” His difficulties, whatever they were, had begun to affect his health: “my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also.”

            The troubles were not a recent experience, but a lengthy affliction: “For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away” (v. 10).

            This sounds less like David in a tight spot, and more like someone facing depression or a long-term illness. The psalmist’s trials had left him feeling constant sadness. We know that depression and stress can contribute to serious health issues, and it is widespread. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, between 2015 and 2018, more than 13% of Americans over 18 took antidepressant medications at some point, including nearly a fourth of all women over 60.

            The psalmist had no drugs to increase the levels of dopamine or serotonin in his brain chemistry, no cognitive therapy to aid in dealing with his long-running sadness. His neighbors offered no comfort, but avoided being around him, leaving him isolated (vv. 11-13). He felt “terror all around” as he imagined how others whispered about him and hatched plots to do him in. Whether real or imagined, the psalmist pictured himself as surrounded by enemies.

            From the depths of his misery, however, the poet took comfort in putting himself in God’s hands: “But I trust in you, O LORD; I say, ‘You are my God.’” (v. 14). On the one hand, he could say “My times are in your hand,” as if being resigned to whatever might happen, but he never stopped appealing for a good outcome: “deliver me from the hand of my enemies and persecutors” (v. 15).

            In words that recall the Aaronic blessing of Num. 6:24-26, he prayed “Let your face shine upon your servant; save me in your steadfast love” (v. 16). [DD]

            The petitioner appeared to fear the words of his enemies more than their knives. Perhaps they spoke evil of him, so he prayed that God would not let him “be put to shame,” but instead cause “the wicked” to be shamed and sent “dumbfounded”—or perhaps “wailing”—to Sheol (v. 17). Surprisingly, the same word damam can mean both “to grow silent,” and “to groan or wail.”

            Whether the psalmist wanted his opponents to die in silence or crying with pain is less certain than that he wished them an early demise. He thought it was no less than their “lying lips,” insolent accusations, and contemptuous attitudes deserved.

A testimony of trust

(vv. 19-24)

Even casual readers will note what appears to be a strong disconnect between vv. 18 and 19, for the cry of distress suddenly shifts to happy praise. This is not unusual in biblical laments, and we can’t help but wonder why. Some have suggested that the words of praise were added later, after the psalmist had experienced the deliverance he or she had requested. Others see it as a proleptic expression of trust, not unlike modern believers who talk about “claiming the promise” as if it has already happened.

            In a practical sense, when we think of how the psalm might have been used in worship, some have suggested that it could have been read on behalf of all who felt oppressed, with a break after v. 18, during which a cultic prophet or priest may have promised that God had heard the prayer and deliverance was sure.

            In any case, vv. 19-24 take on a new tone of confidence and testimony. Echoing themes from his earlier appeals, the psalmist sings the praise of God’s goodness toward those who find refuge in God from “human plots” and “contentious tongues” (vv. 19-20).

            He prays as if deliverance has already come: “Blessed be the LORD, for he has wondrously shown his steadfast love to me when I was beset as a city under siege” (v. 21). He appears to be speaking of past sorrow when he adds “I had said in my alarm, ‘I am driven far from your sight,’ but you heard my supplications when I cried out to you for help” (v. 22).

            With these words of testimony, the psalmist emerges from depression to become a witness, indeed an evangelist of sorts. The final two verses no longer address God, but those gathered for worship: “Love the LORD, all you his saints,” he called, testifying that “The LORD preserves the faithful, but abundantly repays the one who acts haughtily” (v. 23).

            Encouragement is most meaningful when it comes from someone else who knows how we feel, who has been in our shoes, and who has lived to tell the story. Other worshipers in attendance when this psalm was read could have been facing difficulties of their own, feeling put upon or threatened by others, isolated from the community, and wondering if God still cared. To them, the happy poet offered heartening words to motivate faith: “Be strong, and let your heart take courage, all you who wait for the LORD” (v. 24). [DD]

            We may have found ourselves in the psalmist’s situation—discouraged and depressed, lonely and fearful. We may have prayed for some time, as the psalmist had done, with no apparent result. Yet, as long as we live, there is hope. We may not always get the kind of deliverance we hope for, or see others get the comeuppance we think they deserve, but we can find strength and renewed courage as we trust—and wait—for LORD.

            The waiting is where real trust is found.