A Meditation on Psalm 77
Although this article is about remembering, I thank John Coffey for forgetting to change the address for his Journal of Christian Studies. They come to the church address, I read them and forward them to John. Often they are so good that I forget. I refer to the September issue on Theology of Suffering and the article, A Theology of Remembrance in Psalm 77. I invite you to read that lament Psalm. There are lines with which I identify. On some sleepless nights, “my hands are stretched out without wearying, my soul refuses to be comforted” (77:2). Perhaps you can identify with this sufferer as he resolves “let me remember my song in the night.” He makes a diligent search for God only to come up with questions: “Will the Lord spurn forever? Has his steadfast love ceased? … Has he in anger shut up his compassion?” (77:7-9). Very troubling but honest questions. Have you ever asked them?
The Psalmist’s resolution to his questions begins when he “look[s] to the years of the right hand of the Most High, remembers the deeds of the Lord, his wonders of old.” That history discloses God who works wonders and redeems his people. He recalls especially the saving event of the waters of the sea at the exodus – “When the waters saw you O God, they … (77:16-8). Then comes a mysterious line, “Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; YET YOUR FOORPRINTS WERE UNSEEN.” (77:19). What? With all his questions asked earlier, surely the answer must be in a God who is seen. But as the NT preacher said, “Faith is the conviction of things not seen” (Heb. 11:1). We still wait to see the unseen God.
How may we apply this Psalm today? We each have our personal responses, but I propose that we as a church “Perform the Psalm.” At this time of serious questions about our past and future, dare we preform (enact) Psalm 77 with questions about our community and about God with a remembrance of our history and of God’s saving deeds in our story. Let us yet affirm of God that you led your people like a flock in our past and look for helping hands to lead us in our future all the while confessing “yet your footprints were unseen.”
—Tom Yoakum