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521_God in wrath and salvation

Psalm 88 O Lord, God of my salvation,
I cry out day and night before you.
2 Let my prayer come before you;
incline your ear to my cry!

3 For my soul is full of troubles,
and my life draws near to Sheol.
4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit;
I am a man who has no strength,
5 like one set loose among the dead,
like the slain that lie in the grave,
like those whom you remember no more,
for they are cut off from your hand.
6 You have put me in the depths of the pit,
in the regions dark and deep.
7 Your wrath lies heavy upon me,
and you overwhelm me with all your waves. Selah

8 You have caused my companions to shun me;
you have made me a horror to them.
I am shut in so that I cannot escape;
9 my eye grows dim through sorrow.
Every day I call upon you, O Lord;
I spread out my hands to you.
10 Do you work wonders for the dead?
Do the departed rise up to praise you? Selah
11 Is your steadfast love declared in the grave,
or your faithfulness in Abaddon?
12 Are your wonders known in the darkness,
or your righteousness in the land of forgetfulness?

13 But I, O Lord, cry to you;
in the morning my prayer comes before you.
14 O Lord, why do you cast my soul away?
Why do you hide your face from me?
15 Afflicted and close to death from my youth up,
I suffer your terrors; I am helpless.
16 Your wrath has swept over me;
your dreadful assaults destroy me.
17 They surround me like a flood all day long;
they close in on me together.
18 You have caused my beloved and my friend to shun me;
my companions have become darkness.

Several years ago, Charles Spurgeon, known as the “Prince of Preachers, spoke openly about his struggles with depression. His sermons shook London with the gospel and still inspire believers today. Yet once he confessed, “I could say with Job, ‘My soul chooseth strangling rather than life.’ I could readily enough have laid violent hands upon myself, to escape from my misery of spirit.” He described weeks of such unhappiness, when even prayer felt impossible. Even so, he kept preaching, kept crying out to God, and kept believing that beyond the darkness, light would break.

Many of us know what it is like to go through the place where it feels like our prayers are unheard and God’s wrath is sweeping over us. At such times, faith is not about soaring but about surviving—holding on to God when it feels like He has let go of you.

Psalm 88 is called the saddest psalm, maybe even the darkest passage in the entire Bible. Most laments in the Psalms begin in sorrow but end in hope. They start with grief, but hark back to God’s wonderful works in the past and his faithfulness. This leads the psalmist to end in vows of praise for mercies he hopes for. Psalm is different, for it begins, continues and ends in darkness. As the last line says, “Darkness is my closest friend.”

Why is this psalm preserved for us? The answer lies in the story behind the psalm and the lessons it teaches for our own journeys through the valley.

Psalm 88 was written by Heman the Ezrahite. He was one of the wisest men of his generation, a Levite and grandson of the prophet Samuel, a prophet and skilled musician, and the chief worship leader in the temple under King David. He had a large family, was respected in society, and was devoted in heart to his God. If anyone seemed to have a strong and secure spiritual life, it was Heman. This tells us that nobody, however wise or godly, is exempt from the danger of utter depression, long seasons of darkness.

The psalm opens with what sounds like a note of hope: “O LORD, God of my salvation.” We expect deliverance to follow. But instead, what comes next is a cry of desperation. Heman clings to the title “God of my salvation” not because of his present experience but because this is all the truth he has left to hold on to.

Listen to his words: “For my soul is full of troubles, and my life draws near to Sheol.” He feels crushed under God’s wrath. He feels abandoned and shunned. He asks God directly, “Do you work wonders for the dead? Is your steadfast love declared in the grave? Are your wonders known in the darkness?”

Despite the pain and questioning these cries reveal, they are directed to God. That’s the key. He doesn’t turn away from God in his pain; he brings his pain to God. That is desperate, heartbroken faith.

Let us always remember that anyone, even the most faithful people, may experience what feels like the wrath of God, even when they know God as the God of salvation. The bleakest psalm of all was written by the chief of the Levitical musicians, a man devoted to God. Such seasons are not indications of failure or spiritual fallenness.
They can be decoded only by God.

Second, true worship is honest, not fake. Many psalms resolve with praise, like Psalm 42, which ends with “Hope in God, for I shall again praise him.” But Psalm 88 doesn’t. It ends with darkness. And yet, it is still worship. Because worship is not pretending to be joyful when you are not. Worship is bringing your true self before God—whether joyful or broken. God does not despise an honest cry. He welcomes and comforts the broken-hearted.

Third, lament belongs in the life of faith – a fact attested to by the inclusion of this psalm in Israel’s worship. Neither weakness nor unbelief, lamentation is the simple expression of the heart’s grief under the burden of life’s sorrow. It says, “God, I don’t understand, but I still believe You are there, so I am bringing my sorrow to You.” Lament is not the opposite of praise—it is a pathway to it.

Finally, hope is hidden even in the darkness. Although the psalm is that of a seemingly hopeless man, ending in lightless night, its first line betrays the seed of hope: “O LORD, God of my salvation.” Heman never stops addressing God as Savior, even when salvation seems invisible. The act of calling out is itself a sign of faith. Isaiah 50:10 echoes the same attitude of hope in despair: “Let him who walks in darkness and has no light trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God.”

Psalm 88 is proof of the value of human honesty, towards one another and towards God. We can openly confess that life feels unbearable at times, even when we believe in God the Almighty. Faith assures us that despite all seeming evidence to the contrary, our cries are heard. Most importantly, it points us to the truth that even though we may walk in darkness, we are never abandoned. Psalm 23 declares, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” Psalm 88 shows us the valley in its starkest form—but even there, God listens.

Therefore, let us not cease to pray, even when it feels like our prayers rise no further than the ceiling. Let us not stop bringing our questions and our pain to the God of our salvation. Persistence in prayer when we feel nothing is perhaps the purest form of faith. To keep calling on the God of our salvation in the dark is to confess, however faintly, that He is God.

And we are not alone on this path. Heman, Job, Jeremiah all walked it. Even our Lord and Christ cried on the cross, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?” Because of his atonement, we know that darkness is not the final word. The psalm may end in night, but the story of God ends in dawn. Resurrection follows the grave. Joy comes in the morning.

Let us take courage. Though we lament and mourn in the dark, let us be honest and persevere in prayer. For even when we cannot see Him, He is still there, holding us in His unseen hand, waiting for the day when the night will break into everlasting light.