Psalm 32 is a hymn of individual thanksgiving for healing, from the pre-exilic period, although some scholars consider it a composite wisdom psalm. The tradition of the church identifies seven penitential psalms. It expresses the happiness of the sinner who receives forgiveness. The poet had tried to hide his sin from God. His conscience afflicted him, but the affliction removed when he confessed. He warns others not to hide their sins. Its theme is the spiritual, psychological, and physical dynamic of the consciousness of sin, the necessity of confession and the effects of forgiveness. In fact, one can think of it as contributing to the unity and totality of justification.[1] Melanchthon thought that receiving forgiveness of sins is the same as justification based upon this psalm.[2] Psalm 32 teaches a simple lesson: Trying to conceal one's sins from God is useless and brings needless (often physical) suffering. Confession of one's sin brings God's help and guidance toward the goal of a righteous life. The designation of this psalm as a "wisdom psalm" has its basis on this underlying didactic tone.
The heading for this psalm describes it as Of David. A Maskil is a kind of (musical?) composition that people knew well at one time in the temple liturgy, but whose exact form is now largely a mystery. The word is of unknown meaning.
Psalm 32: 1-2 contain two beatitudes,[3] which are indications of a wisdom tradition behind this psalm. They come from the heart. He finds the truths contained in them find a test in his present experience. He stakes his life on their truth. Ordinary, everyday happiness was a subject that occupied much of the interest of wisdom circles in Israel. It presented happiness in the context of a moral life (which is why past translators of the Hebrew word used “blessed”). Experience suggested to the sages that happiness secured through immoral means was illusory or temporary at best. One could find true, lasting happiness, only through a relationship to its source, namely, Yahweh. 1 Happy[4] are those whose transgression (peshah, rebellion)[5] is forgiven, whose sin is covered. As divine passives, God is forgiving sin and covering it or putting it out of sight. Let us be honest about the essence of forgiveness. Someone has hurt you. You choose to give up the resentment to which that hurt has entitled you. You offer benevolence and mercy to someone who does not deserve it. Mercy does not require compromising your standards of justice. Forgiveness is not reconciliation, but you cannot even start down that path without forgiveness. Reconciliation in this life may not always be possible. However, you can break the cycle of revenge if you are willing to forgive. If this is true at the human level, it also seems true in the way God deals with us. God forgives the harm we have done. Of course, we cannot truly harm God, but we can harm the work of God in the world. 2 Happy are those to whom the Lord imputes, like a judge in court determining, no iniquity. The language draws from legal imagery in which a wise and discerning judge determines guilt or innocence based on the evidence of the actions of the party being judged. The language is also relational: There is no sense of abstract guilt or innocence. Rather, guilt or innocence is only in relation to the one supremely qualified to judge. Further, happy are those in whose spirit (ruach) there is no deceit (rimah).[6] One who can speak this way is one who knows the covenant faithfulness of the God of Israel, and therefore oneself as one acquitted by God.[7] The lack of guile can refer either to the one receiving judgment or to the one judging (making him eminently qualified for the task).[8] Deceit is in the "mouths" of humans. Micah 6: 12 and Psalm 120: 2 describe deceit on the tongue, and there are numerous references to the related word (mirmah) being on the lips of those who are dishonest (Psalms 24: 4; 35: 20; 52: 6; 109: 2). However, they did not think of the ruach, "breath" or "spirit," of a human as like other more basic parts of the body. It does not "contain" things; rather, it is that act of breathing that keeps one alive. A “lying spirit” sent by God, as were the prophets who intended to lure Ahab to his death in I Kings 22:23 can possess one: but this spirit was not the same kind as the type that animates the human body.
Psalm 32: 3-7 are in the form of a confession before God that led from pained conscience to confession. He admits his silence in not confessing his sin brought on illness and acknowledgement of sin brought healing and forgiveness. The ill effects of living in the silence of denial and deceit stand in sharp contrast to the joy of forgiveness for those who can honestly confess their sin. The steady use of the prayer of confession helps us overcome the many and subtle ways we are tempted to fool ourselves and others. 3 While I kept silence, about sin, physical symptoms resulted which included my body (literally “bones”) wasted away through my groaning (due to pain) all day long. We hear that an illness has descended upon the psalmist because of unconfessed sin. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me. The Hebrew Bible contains numerous references to the sometimes-onerous burden of the divine. The people of Ashdon sensed the hand of the Lord being heavy upon them (I Samuel 5:7). The Lord added sorrow to the pain of the prophet (Jeremiah 45:3). The hand of the Lord is heavy upon him (Job 23:2). The difference here is that the purpose of the burden is to press a confession out of the sinner for the sinner’s ultimate benefit. That the psalmist recognizes this inner dynamic displays a psychological roundedness not often found in the Hebrew Bible.
My strength (shadd) was dried up as by the heat of summer (The Hebrew reads literally "my breast was turned over as in the hot days of summer.")[9] Selah[10] This silence was an expression of the opposition to God. His silence about his past is the sinful thing he must face. His silence was the seed of death. His silence did him no good, as he thought. In fact, he was making himself insufferable. He withstood God, and God withstood him. He was at the point of wasting away because of the falseness and insincerity of his heart that revealed his conflict with God.[11] The notion of “misleading discretion,” of keeping quiet about one’s sins, thereby presenting an image of righteousness, fits comfortably with the following verses, which describe the physical and emotional toll taken on the sinner who refuses to acknowledge sin and guilt. Ordinarily, the notion of keeping silence is a sign of discretion, respect, or courtesy (e.g., Deuteronomy 27: 9; Job 29: 21; Ecclesiastes 3: 7; Habakkuk 2: 20; Acts 15: 12), but inappropriately withheld speech, as in the present context, can result in suffering (e.g., Esther 4: 14; Psalm 50: 3; 83: 1). 5 Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord.” The influence of the wisdom tradition shows itself in the psychological presentation of the psalmist’s decision to confess. This notion of an interior dialogue, of talking to oneself, is not common in the Hebrew Bible. The result of the confession was that you forgave the guilt of my sin. Selah When he acknowledged and confessed his sin, the Lord forgave him. The sinful thing about the past falls away; his unruliness curbed. He can let God lead him.[12] The psalmist’s personal experience of forgiveness forms the basis of his admonition: 6 Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you. It is possible that this public confession and acknowledgment of pardon was part of a liturgy of healing performed at the temple. This refers to the worship at the temple. It is possible that this public confession and acknowledgment of pardon was part of a liturgy of healing performed at the temple. Hector Avalos shows how people sought "medical" treatment at ancient temples. Although one might seek treatment at home, there are many examples of petitioners coming to temples to make offerings and seek advice on ridding themselves of physical ailments believed to be due to divine disfavor. This psalm, then, is a biblical example of one such petition.[13] The imagery switches from the interior and emotional: At a time of distress,[14] to the exterior and physical in the rush of mighty waters, symbolizing distress, as well as common language for danger. We especially see this in the Psalms (e.g., Psalm 18:16; 77:19; 144:7; although the imagery can also denote majestic power, as in Psalm 93:4). Such dangerous waters shall not reach them.(Hebrew is "At a time of finding only many rushing waters, they shall not reach them." ).[15] The language is stereotypical. The Lord allows the psalmist to find the Lord. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with glad cries of deliverance.[16] Selah He delights in God; happy God has forgiven his sins.
In Psalm 32: 8-11, we find instructive conclusions from the life of the poet.[17] He gives instruction to others. Here is the instruction of a teacher, promising guidance for life. He has received the power to instruct others. This turning is significant, for what he has experienced from God is not his private affair. It concerns the community. He must not be silent. Here we learn about the nature of confession: it corresponds to a divine action that affects us personally and calls us to a decision. Anyone who has experienced such deliverance bears a responsibility before God for others.[18] Self-will is foolishness, for God will overcome it. There are two ways: persist in sinning or trust in God. 8 I will instruct you (‘askilkha, ‘Let me enlighten you,”) and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. The religion of ancient Israel presents itself throughout the Hebrew Bible as eminently teachable and learnable. The theme of wisdom is most prominent in verses 8 and 9, whose opening verbs are “instruct” and its parallel, “teach” (which occurs in the same pairing at Psalm 105: 22). Thus, it pays little attention to mysticism. It portrays all of Israel’s religious leaders as teachers in varying degrees and of varying ability, and the overriding understanding of the Lord’s will was that one could teach it and learn it. 9 Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle, else it will not stay near you. The poet lets the Lord tell him of the unruly heart he has. He did not let God lead him to where he ought to come and go.[19] Horses were symbols of luxury in ancient Israel (mules and donkeys were more commonly ridden, even by royalty — cf II Samuel 18: 9), and horses were used only in warfare; they were not ordinary beasts of burden. The horse was used as a symbol of power, sometimes difficult to control, and only in this passage does the mule, as distinct from the donkey, symbolize ignorant recalcitrance (see Proverbs 26:3 for another instance of the horse/donkey parallel used to denote errant willfulness). He concludes by describing the varying fates of the wicked and the upright. Sickness and pain are punishment for sin. 10 Many are the torments of the wicked, but steadfast love (hesed, divine favor and faithful care) surrounds those who trust in the Lord. Biblical and Christian hope rests on faith. Hope in the prayers of the Psalms is always in God.[20] The psalm concludes with a statement of orthodox piety, affirming the traditional assertion that the Lord punishes the wicked with torments while the Lord rewards the righteous with security and prosperity. This view became less tenable over the turbulent course of Israel’s history, so that by the time of the exilic period (6th century B.C.), the reverse could be maintained in the form of the Suffering Servant, an image that would form the core of New Testament theology. 11 Be glad in the Lord and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart. It ends on a high note of joyful praise.
We know about methods of relieving stress. I have read that some adults started using silly putty when they are stressed. It may be helpful, but of course, if you use it too much, you will need to keep buying more.
We come to popular wisdom techniques to relieve ourselves from stress. I am thinking of a list I came across called the Ten Commandments for Stress Reduction.
I. Thou shalt not be perfect, or even try to be.
II. Thou shalt not try to be all things to all people.
III. Thou shalt sometimes leave things undone.
IV. Thou shalt not spread thyself too thin.
V. Thou shalt learn to say “no.”
VI. Thou shalt schedule time for thyself and for thy support network.
VII. Thou shalt switch thyself off, and do nothing regularly.
VIII. Thou shalt not even feel guilty for doing nothing, or saying no.
IX. Thou shalt be boring, untidy, inelegant and unattractive at times.
X. Especially, thou shalt not be thine own worst enemy. But, be thine own best friend.
All of this is good advice. Breaking them may well be the source of stress.
However, this psalm reminds us that we at least need to consider the possibility that the source of our stress is something about which we do not talk much anymore. Sadly, our unwillingness to discuss sin may lead to our hiding it. We may pretend to hide it from God, but we really hide it from ourselves. Yet, as the psalmists says, "While I kept silence, / my body wasted away ..." Sin will find a way to exert its effect upon our bodies as well as soul. The reality is that we all make seriously wrong choices. Yet, we can have a fresh start any moment we choose. Our moral and spiritual failure is not in falling down, but in staying down.[21]Confession truly is good for the soul and body. In an analogous way, other people will commit serious wrongs that may affect us profoundly. If we do not learn to forgive others, we destroy the bridge over which we may one day need to pass.[22]
"Then I acknowledged my sin to you," the psalmist says. Confession is the path toward freedom. The beauty of it, of course, is that God wants us to experience such liberation, and therefore we know that God is ready to forgive. Always. The only question is whether we are ready to stop hiding our sin. I grant the difficulty. Yet, joy is on the other side.
Once upon a time, two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch. Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence. One morning there was a knock on John’s door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter’s toolbox. “I’m looking for a few days’ work,” the man said. “Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?” “Yes,” said the older brother. “I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That’s my neighbor, in fact, it’s my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee, and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I’ll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence — an 8-foot fence — so I won’t need to see his place anymore. That’ll show him.” The carpenter said, “I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger, and I’ll be able to do a job that pleases you.” The older brother had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer’s eyes opened wide. His jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge — a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work, handrails and all — and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched. “You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I’ve said and done.” The two brothers met at the middle of the bridge, taking each other’s hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder. “No, wait! Stay a few days. I’ve a lot of other projects for you,” said the older brother. “I’d love to stay on,” the carpenter said, “but I have so many more bridges to build.”
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[3] The opening couplet of the psalm is, in form, abbreviated parallelism: “Happy are those (A) - whose transgression (B) - is forgiven (C) // whose sin (B’) - is covered (C’).” This form of parallelism is widespread throughout the psalter, as well as in other forms of wisdom literature.
[4] A term which occurs in Psalms far more than in any other biblical book (e.g., 1: 1; 2: 12; 32: 2; 33: 12; 34: 8; 40: 4, etc.)
[5] A favorite in the Bible’s wisdom literature. The use of the term in Job, Psalms and Proverbs accounts for more than a third of its occurrences. Its use in other books influenced by the wisdom tradition (Isaiah, Ezekiel and Amos) accounts for another third of its appearances. The transgression (or rebellion) can be against individuals, the nation or God.
[6] Two ancient translations of verse 2 read the final phrase differently than does the Hebrew text (and the NRSV): "Happy is the one ... in whose spirit there is no deceit." The Greek translation of Symmachus reads: "In whose mouth there is no deceit." The Syriac reads: "In whose heart there is no deceit." These variations may simply be the result of these translators having access to another Hebrew text that is lost to us. Alternatively, they may be substituting the terms "mouth" and "heart" to make an easier reading. Symmachus and the Syriac may have been influenced by their context in the early Christian era to see such a reference to someone "in whose spirit is deceit" as a tacit acknowledgment of the truth of a Gnostic worldview in which some souls were virtuous and some were evil. Changing this reference so that it is not one's spirit, but one's heart or mouth that contains deceit, would prevent someone from using this Psalm to support Gnostic philosophy. I should also note the ambiguity of the pronominal suffix attached to the Hebrew word for “spirit” (or “breath”). The Hebrew literally says “And there is not, in his spirit, deceit” (the plural implication in “whose spirit,” referring back to “those,” is NRSV’s translation). It is largely for this reason that the editors of the standard edition of the Hebrew text (BHS) wondered whether the stitch was an addition.
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[8] However, neither sentiment carries forward the theme of forgiven transgression introduced in the first words of the psalm.
[9] The NRSV has a derived translation "my strength was dried up ...." The source of these variants is the term for "breast" or "chest", which is not a common word. A much more common use for the consonants which make up this word is as the root of the divine name Shaddai. This is the origin of the NRSV reading, "strength," from the traditional translation of Shaddai, "Almighty." The translation difficulties are not philosophical, but rather, lexical.
[10] The word which concludes verses 4, 5 and 7, is some sort of liturgical rubric whose meaning is now largely unknown.
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[13] Illness and Health Care in the Ancient Near East: The Role of the Temple in Greece, Mesopotamia and Israel (Atlanta: Scholars Press, 1995),
[14] Which is a correction of a corrupt Hebrew text, “a time of finding only”
[15] Although this is readable, it is awkward. Many ancient witnesses suggest that the phrase "at a time of finding only" (le'eyt metzo' raq) is an acoustic confusion for "at a time of only distress" (le'eyt metzor raq) or "at a time of stress" (le'yet metzoq). Some scholars find an even more ingenious translation. Instead of raq, "only," they suggest the word riq, "army," and he reads the verb as a form of "to go out" (ytza') rather than "to find" (mtza'). Thus he reads, "When an army approaches, or violent waters rush on, these shall not reach him."
[16] There is either some very nice intentional repetition of sounds in the phrase "you preserve me from trouble; glad cries of deliverance, you surround me" (mitzar titzareyni raney paleyt tesobebeyni), or the Hebrew word raney ("glad cries") is an intentional repeat of the word before it. Without that word, you could read the verse "you guard my escape from trouble, you surround me."
[17] For some interpreters, one finds a shift in who is speaking from the writer in verses 1-7 to God in 8-11. For them, the psalm abruptly switches speakers at verse 8, when the Lord addresses the psalmist (or one of the faithful in general — the pronominal suffixes signifying “you” are singular). Dahood understands the speaker to be Yahweh. Weiser believes the connection with Wisdom form means the speaker is the poet. In this case, I am interpreting along the lines of Weiser.
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[21] “If you have made mistakes, even serious mistakes, you may have a fresh start any moment you choose, for this thing we call ‘failure’ is not the falling down, but the staying down.” —Mary Pickford.
[22] “He who cannot forgive others destroys the bridge over which he himself must pass.” —George Herbert (1593-1633), poet and cleric.
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