Psalm for a Pandemic Summer 3 Psalm 6

The Psalms were written in ancient Hebrew so we read then in translation.  They come from a specific time and place that was much different from ours. They make specific reference to the enemies that threatened the normal life of Israelites thousands of years ago.  Many of their enemies were neighbouring states.  Our current enemies are harder to define:   an unseen virus, a racist history, entrenched prejudice, systemic structures that perpetuate what they were intended to correct.  It is hard to rail against an enemy that you can’t quite define.  Yet rail we do for if we don’t the buried anger can eat away at us. 

man with mask and paint splatters in favePhoto by Leonardo Baldissara (unsplash)

Psalm 6
 1 O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger,

    or discipline me in your wrath.
2 Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am languishing;
    O Lord, heal me, for my bones  are shaking with terror.
3 My soul also is struck with terror,
    while you, O Lord—how long?

4 Turn, O Lord, save my life;
    deliver me for the sake of your steadfast love.
5 For in death there is no  remembrance of you;
    in Sheol who can give you praise?

6 I am weary with my moaning;
    every night I flood my bed with tears;
    I drench my couch with my weeping.
7 My eyes waste away because of grief;
    they grow weak because of all my foes.

8 Depart from me, all you workers of evil,
    for the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
9 The Lord has heard my supplication;
    the Lord accepts my prayer.
10 All my enemies shall be ashamed and struck with terror;
    they shall turn back, and in a moment be put to shame.

God, don’t be angry with me.   Give me a break.   

Be kind because I am really struggling.

I am scared of where all this is going. 

 I am not even sure that I will get through alive.

Do you want me to die, God?  What good would that do?  

You would have one less person praying to you.

I can’t sleep.  I can’t eat.  I can’t move.

I feel like I am wasting away and no one cares.

But you care, O God, don’t you.  You will hear my cry for help.


All those people who are causing trouble,  

Terrorist, racists, criminals, gangs,  corrupt politicians, amoral executives, hackers and marketers, spreaders and deniers,

All those people, you will deal with them

Won’t you? 

 

I am not sure what to do, but you, O God, know.

I will listen for your Voice and obey your Word.

I will know peace and joy because, you God, hear my prayer.  


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