Psalms: Prayerbook of the Bible

By jdgoodwyne on Jun 10, 2009 in Blog, Theology

If the heart does not overflow and begin to pray by itself, we say, it will never ‘learn’ to pray. But it is a  dangerous error, and surely widespread among Christians, to think that the heart can pray by itself. For then we confuse wishes, hopes, sighs, laments, rejoicings–all of which the heart can do by itself–with prayer. And we confuse earth and heaven, man and God. Prayer does not mean simply to pour out one’s heart. It means rather to find the way to God and to speak with him, whether the heart is full or empty. No man can do that by himself. For that he needs Jesus Christ.

-Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Psalms: The Prayerbook of the Bible

Several days ago, the camel’s back snapped. I am the sort that generally stays cool under pressure, but then I suddenly just, you know, melt down. My poor wife hasn’t quite learned yet how to anticipate these somewhat rare moments. She knows them when they occur though, in the way that you know when you’ve been hit by a truck. The details of my breakdown aren’t terribly important, and would probably ruin the narrative here by seeming “not all that bad,” so suffice it to say that the pressures of being married, in debt, having a graduate degree, and not having a job were a little much. I felt like I was going to explode, and after driving around town for a while with Julie worrying at home, I came home feeling very much the same as when I left. So Julie sat on the couch with me and opened the word. She began by reading Psalm 16,

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the Lord, ‘You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from You.

Further, the Psalmist writes,

Therefore my heart is glad and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
For You will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let Your holy one see corruption.

Julie then turned to Psalm 69, and read:

Save me O God!
For the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in deep mire,
where there is no foothold.
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me.
I am weary with my crying out;
my throat is parched.
My eyes grow dim
with waiting for my God.

I wept uncontrollably as these words encapsulated my thoughts and feelings. I felt my heart praying in a way that I had not intended. With these words my soul poured out its complaint before the Lord, and He heard my cry. I communed with the Holy Trinity there on the couch, with my wife and the Word of God. It was beautiful.

In an individualistic culture which values self-expression at all costs, the idea of praying pre-composed prayers seems disingenuous. I would never deny the goodness of impromptu prayer. Situations demand more specificity. But in terms of regular disciplined prayer, what better to pray than the prayerbook of the Bible? This is part of the uniqueness of the Psalter. They are not the words of God and men to us, as much as they are the words of God and men from us to God. And this mystery is grounded in the incarnation of Christ who took on flesh and dwelt among us, prays the Psalms for us, and teaches us how to pray. He bears our grief and carries our sorrows, knowing best of all our situation, and the fullness of our emotions, and “has brought every need, every joy, every gratitude, every hope of men before God” (Bonhoeffer).

Eugene Peterson has pointed out that while prayer is basic to human existence, the natural way to pray is to portray oneself in the best possible light. But the Psalter stands in direct defiance of this tendency.

In a world of prayers that indulge the religious ego and cultivate passionate longings, the Psalms stand out with a kind of angular austerity. The Psalms are acts of obedience, answering the God who has addressed us. God’s words precede these words: these prayers don’t seek God, they respond to the God who seeks us.

-Eugene Peterson, Answering God

The Psalter is equipped to handle the full gamut of the human experience. John Calvin called the Psalter “an anatomy of all the parts of the soul; for there is not an emotion of which any one can be conscious that is not here represented as in a mirror.” Life is a continuing succession of complex emotions. From our most joyous, mountaintop praise, to our lowest lamenting in the valley, we have been given holy words with which to express ourselves. How great is our God!

I would encourage you to treat the Psalter as a prayerbook. Pray it silently, and outloud. Feel the words rolling off the tongue, passing teeth, leaving lips. Pray them with passion, and own them. Sing them. Memorize them. Seek their wisdom and eloquence in times of trouble, the way our Lord did on the cross. You may find that they express what you mean better than you ever could.

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2 Comment(s)

  1. I’m impressed that Julie took the initiative in that situation. It seems you’ve married a godly woman. You are blessed indeed!

    goodwyne | Jun 10, 2009 | Reply

  2. Wow. Julie is also blessed indeed to have a godly husband, and one with such incredible depth!!

    I love this one the most: Psalm 107. It seems to be a pictur of different phases of my life! Like the Israelites I get comfy and look away from the straight and narrow path, to find myself off the path again. And again. Thank goodness He washes all the junk away through his mighty grace and pulls me back on the path each time I stray like an obstinate child!

    Jules | Jun 26, 2009 | Reply

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