Psalm 22 – Why Have You Abandoned Me?
TEXT
(Initial note – some English translations do not number the title verse.)
1. For the leader; on
ayelet ha-shachar.
1 A psalm. Of David.
2. My God, my God, why have You abandoned me—so far from delivering me, my roaring words!?
3. My God, I cry by day, but You do not answer; and by night, but I have no quiet.
4. But You are the Holy One, enthroned on the praises of Israel.
5. In You our fathers trusted; they trusted, and You delivered them.
6. To You they cried out and they escaped; in You they trusted and were not put to shame.
7. But I am a worm, not a human; scorned by men, despised by the people.
8. All who see me mock me; they curl their lip, shaking the head:
9. “‘Commit yourself to the LORD.’ He will rescue him, He will save him, for He is pleased with him.”
10. Indeed, You drew me from the belly, led me to trust at my mother’s breast.
11. Upon You I was cast since the womb; from my mother’s belly You have been my God.
12. Do not be far from me, for trouble is near, for there is no one to help.
13. Many bulls encircle me; mighty ones of Bashan surround me
14. They open their mouths at me―a tearing, roaring lion.
15. Like water I am poured out, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax, melting in my innards;
16. my palate
2 dries up like a shard; my tongue cleaves to my jaws; You commit me to the dust of death.
17. Dogs encircle me; a pack of evil ones closes in on me, like a lion [at]
3 my hands and feet.
18. I count all my bones. They look, they stare at me;
19. they divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothes they cast lots.
20. But You, O LORD be not far; my strength, hasten to my aid.
21. Save my life from the sword, my person from the grasp of a dog.
22. Rescue me from a lion’s mouth, from the horns of wild oxen—answer me.
23. I will proclaim Your reputation to my brothers, in the congregation, praise You.
24. You who fear the LORD, praise Him! All you progeny of Jacob, honor Him! Be in awe of Him, all you progeny of Israel!
25. For He did not despise; He did not spurn the oppression
4 of the oppressed; He did not hide His face from him; when he cried out to Him, He heard.
26. For You―my praise in the great congregation; I pay my vows in the presence of those who fear Him.
27. The oppressed will eat and be satisfied; all who seek the LORD will praise Him. May your hearts thrive forever!
28. All the ends of the earth will remember and return to the LORD and the families of all nations will bow low before You;
29. for kingship is the LORD’s. He is the ruler of the nations.
30. All the fat ones
5 of the earth shall eat and bow low; all those who go down to the dust, whose life is undone, shall kneel before Him.
31. Progeny shall serve Him; the Lord’s fame shall be proclaimed to the generation (to come);
32. they shall come proclaim His beneficence to people yet to be born, for He has so acted.
Notes
1. Hebrew uncertain.
2. Reading chiki for cochi, with NRSV, Alter, others.
3. Hebrew uncertain.
4. Also means “plea.”
5. That is, rich.
COMMENTARY
The Psalm’s Own Introduction
Great literature often captures the reader with an opening phrase, sentence, or scene. So it is with Psalm 22.
“My God, my God why have you abandoned me? {Why} so far from my deliverance? (Why so far from) the roar of my words?” - The double call to another party (“My God, my God”) is reserved in the Bible for moments that are almost beyond comprehension. Examples are: “The LORD, the LORD” in God’s attributes (Ex. 34:6); “Abraham, Abraham,” when he is told not to sacrifice his son (Gen. 22:11); and “My son, my son” which King David says on hearing of Absolom’s death (II Sam. 19:1,5). Thus, the poet shocks the reader into attention and sets the stage for what follows.
From within this first verse, a tortuous pain emerges, highlighted by what should be a logical contradiction: if God has left him, He cannot hear; and if God is there to be called, He has not left. But this is not logic; it is pain. And so the speaker cries, “You are (doubly) far—from any help You could or would give me and then even from hearing me. The sound is the agony of (a lion-type) “roaring,” a sound that in human experience echoes through hills and forests, but still God does not hear. (A complementary reading of the second half of the verse asks why the roaring words are so ineffective in bringing salvation.) The reader, overwhelmed, must pause, able to continue only in hope of finding some relief, but he does not find it in the verses that follow.
I shall comment on the content by section. I first note, however, that the author of Psalm 22 is one of the most audacious in all of Psalms. His use of extremes (such as no other psalmist dares use) and his surrealistic mix of compelling images have rightfully drawn attention and admiration. His most daring step, however, has gone almost unnoticed. I note it at the end of these comments.
Unable to do full justice to this poetry in a short commentary, I shall briefly note the structure, as many have described it; dwell on some imagery (by section); and finally analyze the most radical problem of the psalm, its apparent total reversal. It is in this last section that we find one of the most interesting changes in the Psalter.
The Structure
The two main sections of the psalm could not be more different, nor could they be more clearly marked. The first section, verses 1–22, is the extended cry of pain that expands on the first verse. This section is enclosed by "answer", the speaker's request of God. It is addressed exclusively to God, and its sad and desperate tone is uniform, even as the imagery varies. The object of concern is the speaker and his anguish. The section itself is split into two parts, verses 1–12 and 13–22. (Somewhat disputed, this is the most probable division.) Each part includes a petition near the end (11, 20–22), and both seek to overcome the “distance” (11, 20) so painfully referred to at the beginning. The first part recalls the past, both national (the forefathers) and personal (birth), the verb “trust” rising from the past to be repeated four times. The second part is a torrent of metaphors depicting the depth of the speaker’s dire situation.
The second section, verses 23–32, enclosed by the term “proclaim,” would seem to have a wildly different agenda. Here the speaker describes the LORD, a description more excessive than any other in Psalms. Although there are still three cases of direct address to God (two in verse 23—a bridge from the first section), this section as a whole is between the speaker and others. The tone could not be more different than that of the first section. God’s greatness is described to all, with encompassing superlatives.
I shall return to the basic question of the relationship between the two main sections. It first behooves us, however, to take note of some of the outstanding metaphors and similes, and the poet’s use of the span of time and generations.
The Imagery—By the Three Divisions
a. Verses 1–12 (Section 1, Part 1): The Past
The implication of the opening verse, that God was once close, is developed in verses 1–12 through a marked nostalgia. After each of two explications of the sadness, the past is cited, first of the nation (“our fathers”), and then of himself (twice, “my mother”). In neither case could this past be technically “remembered.” (The personal past is of a newborn.) The poet puts in the mouth of his speaker a classic nostalgic construct, an idealized picture, in this instance, of God’s support. We learn nothing of that past itself, only of the speaker’s solid conception of it. For him, it is the anchor that holds him through the tempest. For the reader, it is a cause of thought and wonder.
Certain images return later. The concentration on birth returns in the final section, which is framed not only by “proclaim,” but also by “progeny” (23, 31) and cites people yet to be born. Memory also reappears, as the "ends of the earth," the nations (!), are told to “remember” a history that is not their own.
b. Verses 13–22 (Section 1, Part 2): Surrealism
(I borrow this paragraph’s title term from Schaefer, who calls this “a surrealistic picture” and “a shifting montage.”) With the scene having been stretched to the distant past, these verses now add a wide variety of descriptions, perhaps reflecting the poet’s desperation in looking for an adequate articulation. The animals attack in their varied roles: the bulls goring, the lions tearing to pieces, the dogs scavenging. (Their removal is sought in reverse order in verses 21–22, enclosing the selection, assuming a parallel between "bulls" and "oxen.") These animal images segue into human enemies watching and enjoying the approaching death, and already dividing the spoils. Further, the poet marshals physical metaphors. The solid body dissolves into liquid (15), then undergoes dehydration, even as it dries into dust (16). Finally, the repeated term “encircle” accurately reflects the swirling of the enemies, their massive numbers, their variety, and the speaker’s sense of entrapment.
c. The Expansion (Section 2)
In the first section, the first part took the reader back in time and the second painted a varied canvas of horrid images. The second section takes the reader to extremes where other psalms simply do not go.
Not only will the children of Israel praise God; so will the whole world. Not only will the oppressed be answered; even the wealthy will eat and praise (verse 30, see note). Not only will the living praise; so shall the dead (verse 30)! Not only will those who are alive now praise; so too will the yet unborn! “Extreme” is almost an understatement. The prior depths of depression are matched by the heights of ecstasy. The reader is, at the end, simply overwhelmed. If the poet sought confrontation with extremes and contradiction, he has achieved it, as he calls on the nations to remember things they could not remember and on the dead to praise God (which is contrary to the recurring biblical insistence that the dead do NOT praise God). The reader encounters an author whose use of the unreal paradoxically seems to create a most realistic image.
A Digression
The major challenge, of course, is not the imagery but the contradiction. As in some other psalms' studies, however, we must pause before considering a contradiction in order first to dismiss an all too common interpretation. Faced with the radical change in mood, numbers of modern commentators rush to the theory that two separate psalms were “somehow” joined.
Independent of the interpretation that follows here, however, form (and not just the received tradition) reveals that the psalm is one: (a) The frame-words of the two main sections are mirrored in the alternate section, and in each case the same root letters are used, but with a different connotation. “Answer,” which frames the first section, is the same root as “the oppressed” (verse 25, second section); and “proclaim,” which frames the second section, is the same root as “count” (verse 18, first section). Using the same root letters with different connotation, the poet is reflecting both the separation and the unity. (b) In fact, the two halves use an identical term to emphasize the contradiction. In verse 7, the speaker is “scorned”; in verse 25, God does not “scorn”! (c) Even when using different words, the poet in the second half clearly mocks (not just contradicts) the first half with the following phrase: “He (God) does not hide his face from him; when he cries out to Him, He listens” (25). (d) Further, the Hebrew uses the root “praise” four times in the last section, thus defining the obscure verse 4 of the first section, “But You are the Holy One, enthroned on the praises of Israel.” [Within the first half, verse 4 seemed out of place―not only by content, but also in its non-poetic form. In retrospect, it was the first hint of messages to come. Verses 2–4 thus can be seen as an introduction to the two sections: verses 2–3 to the first section, the lament, and verse 4 to the second section, the praise.] The poem is woven as a single fabric.
Of course, most terms had to be different given the radical difference of the sections. Part of the power of this psalm is built on the total contrast of the two sections.
Different Worlds of Discourse
How much ink has flowed in the effort to find the context in which these two sections could fit together! The range of suggestions runs from changes of time, to changes of circumstance, to changes of affect, and the debate continues endlessly as to whether the psalm is basically a lament or an affirmation.
Evidently, we have been blinded by assumptions about the poet (or to be more precise, about the speaker). In the poem itself, the speaker tells us precisely what the difference is between the first and second sections.
“I will proclaim Your reputation to my brothers” begins the second section (23). The second section is the public proclamation by the same individual whom we have overheard privately praying bitterly to God in verses 1–22! What we find in Psalm 22 is not change, but the irreconcilable difference between the suffering and incomprehension of an individual leader, on the one hand, and the message he offers his people, on the other. The tragedy of circumstance in the first section is matched by the tragedy of role and position in the second.
I hasten to add that I do not suggest that the second section is deception or falsehood. Life is much more complicated than that. Both in the public message itself and in the fact that the speaker is offering an extended prayer to God, there is a deep reflection that somewhere inside he does believe everything he says in the second section. Is it a noble instinct or a lack of courage that keeps him from bringing his pain into the public sphere? Is the evident non-influence of the first section on the second an achievement or a failure? I must confess that the depth of the pain in the former makes me feel awkward at even raising a question of evaluation. Who am I, the reader, to ask? In any case, these clearly are questions beyond the scope of the poem, but not outside the realm of discourse to which the poet has led the reader. As noted, it is a powerful picture: troublesome, challenging, and rewarding.
The reader, of course, cannot maintain his or her distance. If the speaker bore one burden in his heart but shared a different message with others, the reader will also be led to self questioning.
This poet dared, in his imagery, technique, and message, to loose many bonds. We are all the richer for that.
* * * * * * * * * *
Additional Notes
Many commentators seek to determine the specific nature and cause of the speaker’s pain. I note again that when the author does not reveal the same, and we are best advised to accept that as his intent.
There is much guessing as to the implication of the opening title, which I did not translate (“meaning uncertain”). One could survey theories, but in the end the uncertainty would remain. Readers are referred to the various commentaries, with the caveat that all proposals remain tenuous.
As is well known, Jesus cited (all, or perhaps just the first line of) this psalm on the cross (Mark 15:34). Christian tradition finds in the psalm a reflection of his life and message. (It is the most quoted psalm in the New Testament.) Jewish tradition attaches this poem to the holiday of Purim (the Book of Esther). It is of course legitimate in the course of history to apply any psalm to a circumstance. We recall, however, that these applications postdate the original psalm and its intent.
The author of these essays is Rabbi Benjamin Segal, former president of the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem and author of
The Song of Songs: A Woman in Love (Jerusalem: Gefen, 2009). This material is copyright by the author, and may not be reproduced. If you are interested in using the texts for study groups, please be in direct contact with the author, at psalmblog@gmail.com.
HEBREW TEXT
א לַמְנַצֵּחַ עַל-אַיֶּלֶת הַשַּׁחַר מִזְמוֹר לְדָוִד
ב אֵלִי אֵלִי לָמָה עֲזַבְתָּנִי רָחוֹק מִישׁוּעָתִי דִּבְרֵי שַׁאֲגָתִי
ג אֱלֹהַי אֶקְרָא יוֹמָם וְלֹא תַעֲנֶה וְלַיְלָה וְלֹא-דֻמִיָּה לִי
ד וְאַתָּה קָדוֹשׁ יוֹשֵׁב תְּהִלּוֹת יִשְׂרָאֵל
ה בְּךָ בָּטְחוּ אֲבֹתֵינוּ בָּטְחוּ וַתְּפַלְּטֵמו
ו אֵלֶיךָ זָעֲקוּ וְנִמְלָטוּ בְּךָ בָטְחוּ וְלֹא-בוֹשׁוּ
ז וְאָנֹכִי תוֹלַעַת וְלֹא-אִישׁ חֶרְפַּת אָדָם וּבְזוּי עָם
ח כָּל-רֹאַי יַלְעִגוּ לִי יַפְטִירוּ בְשָׂפָה יָנִיעוּ רֹאשׁ
ט גֹּל אֶל-יְהוָה יְפַלְּטֵהוּ יַצִּילֵהוּ כִּי חָפֵץ בּוֹ
י כִּי-אַתָּה גֹחִי מִבָּטֶן מַבְטִיחִי עַל-שְׁדֵי אִמִּי
יא עָלֶיךָ הָשְׁלַכְתִּי מֵרָחֶם מִבֶּטֶן אִמִּי אֵלִי אָתָּה
יב אַל-תִּרְחַק מִמֶּנִּי כִּי-צָרָה קְרוֹבָה כִּי-אֵין עוֹזֵר
יג סְבָבוּנִי פָּרִים רַבִּים אַבִּירֵי בָשָׁן כִּתְּרוּנִי
יד פָּצוּ עָלַי פִּיהֶם אַרְיֵה טֹרֵף וְשֹׁאֵג
טו כַּמַּיִם נִשְׁפַּכְתִּי וְהִתְפָּרְדוּ כָּל-עַצְמוֹתָי הָיָה לִבִּי כַּדּוֹנָג נָמֵס בְּתוֹךְ מֵעָי
טז יָבֵשׁ כַּחֶרֶשׂ כֹּחִי וּלְשׁוֹנִי מֻדְבָּק מַלְקוֹחָי וְלַעֲפַר-מָוֶת תִּשְׁפְּתֵנִי
יז כִּי סְבָבוּנִי כְּלָבִים עֲדַת מְרֵעִים הִקִּיפוּנִי כָּאֲרִי יָדַי וְרַגְלָי
יח אֲסַפֵּר כָּל-עַצְמוֹתָי הֵמָּה יַבִּיטוּ יִרְאוּ-בִי
יט יְחַלְּקוּ בְגָדַי לָהֶם וְעַל-לְבוּשִׁי יַפִּילוּ גוֹרָל
כ וְאַתָּה יְהוָה אַל-תִּרְחָק אֱיָלוּתִי לְעֶזְרָתִי חוּשָׁה
כא הַצִּילָה מֵחֶרֶב נַפְשִׁי מִיַּד-כֶּלֶב יְחִידָתִי
כב הוֹשִׁיעֵנִי מִפִּי אַרְיֵה וּמִקַּרְנֵי רֵמִים עֲנִיתָנִי
כג אֲסַפְּרָה שִׁמְךָ לְאֶחָי בְּתוֹךְ קָהָל אֲהַלְלֶךָּ
כד יִרְאֵי יְהוָה הַלְלוּהוּ כָּל-זֶרַע יַעֲקֹב כַּבְּדוּהוּ וְגוּרוּ מִמֶּנּוּ כָּל-זֶרַע יִשְׂרָאֵל
כה כִּי לֹא-בָזָה וְלֹא שִׁקַּץ עֱנוּת עָנִי וְלֹא-הִסְתִּיר פָּנָיו מִמֶּנּוּ וּבְשַׁוְּעוֹ אֵלָיו שָׁמֵעַ
כו מֵאִתְּךָ תְּהִלָּתִי בְּקָהָל רָב נְדָרַי אֲשַׁלֵּם נֶגֶד יְרֵאָיו
כז יֹאכְלוּ עֲנָוִים וְיִשְׂבָּעוּ יְהַלְלוּ יְהוָה דֹּרְשָׁיו יְחִי לְבַבְכֶם לָעַד
כח יִזְכְּרוּ וְיָשֻׁבוּ אֶל-יְהוָה כָּל-אַפְסֵי-אָרֶץ וְיִשְׁתַּחֲווּ לְפָנֶיךָ כָּל-מִשְׁפְּחוֹת גּוֹיִם
כט כִּי לַיהוָה הַמְּלוּכָה וּמֹשֵׁל בַּגּוֹיִם
ל אָכְלוּ וַיִּשְׁתַּחֲווּ כָּל-דִּשְׁנֵי-אֶרֶץ לְפָנָיו יִכְרְעוּ כָּל-יוֹרְדֵי עָפָר
וְנַפְשׁוֹ לֹא חִיָּה
לא זֶרַע יַעַבְדֶנּוּ יְסֻפַּר לַאדֹנָי לַדּוֹר
לב יָבֹאוּ וְיַגִּידוּ צִדְקָתוֹ לְעַם נוֹלָד כִּי עָשָׂה