Psalm 80 reflects an experience that Jews, ancient and modern, have described as hester panim, the “hiding of God’s face” or the “eclipse of God.” The refrain of the psalm pleads for the return of God’s countenance: “Restore us, O God; let your face shine, that we may be saved.” The refrain recalls the much-beloved priestly benediction in Numbers 6[], which associates God’s shining countenance with well-being; it also recalls prophetic warning in Deuteronomy 31[], which links the hiding of God’s face to the Israelites’ turn to other gods. The community has not simply fallen on hard times. It is experiencing God’s temporary absence or, perhaps worse, a permanent absence or—as Job feared—God’s sinister delight in tormenting him. [One] must tread carefully here and avoid the example of Job’s friends, who confuse theological reflection with pastoral care. Job’s friends seek to comfort Job by offering reasons for his suffering: It is punishment for Job’s sins, it is a test of his faith, it is a character-building exercise that will leave him stronger and spiritually mature. Job rebuffs his friends, suggesting insightfully they are defending not God but their own views of how the world works. “Who that was innocent ever perished?” asks Eliphaz, who concludes emphatically that Job must be guilty, for the contrary is unthinkable. If Job is innocent, then Eliphaz and his associates are also vulnerable to catastrophe “for no reason”. As “faith seeking understanding,” theology is a second-order discourse, moving away from the intensely personal language of Psalm 80 to a more rational, objective language that tries to explain the reasons for the psalmist’s sufferings. Perhaps later the psalmist will be able to reflect theologically on his or her suffering, but theology is not a substitute for pastoral care. Immersed in grief and anger, the psalmist needs the consoling embrace of a friend, not a sermon or lecture on why he is suffering. The horrors of the twentieth century have led many Jewish and Christian thinkers to “antitheodicy,” the surrender of all attempts to justify God of such horrendous suffering. The logically satisfying theodicies—that suffering is punishment for sin, a test of faith, or a character-building exercise—may hold true in some instances, and the psalmist suggests [] that some degree of punishment was deserved. These theodicies become sacrilege when advanced as explanations for the Holocaust and similar instances of genocide and oppression. Psalm 80 embraces a theodicy of protest, which cries out to God and insists that God must bear some responsibility for evil. There is a strong tendency in Christianity to think that one should suffer in silence before almighty God and to be suspicious of any protest that does not end with an affirmation of insight and a return to faith. One might argue, however, that the protest of Psalm 80 is rooted in an affirmation of faith. The psalm is addressed, not to a mute unmoved mover, but to the God who speaks and acts in the life of Israel. The psalmist has not been rendered mute by the experience of suffering, which would suggest surrender, a withdrawal from community, perhaps even the loss of one’s capacity for empathy. Perhaps this protest gives voice to others whose trauma has been far worse, effectively rendering them unable to speak. --John C. Shelley, Feasting on the Word
Posted on: Tue, 05 Aug 2014 05:10:13 +0000
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