A Song of Victory

A Meditation on the 22nd Psalm

We read that holy men of God spake as they were moved by the Holy Spirit. They were permitted to pass through certain experiences and then to write of them, and so leave on record certain features to attend another set of circumstances which God would provide at some future date. Thus, the experiences they went through became prophetic pictures of the experiences of someone else. Often they picture those of Jesus, and so become Messianic prophecies. Sometimes they prefigure and illustrate the sufferings of the larger Christ—Head and Body—or perhaps to some extent the terrible experiences that the Jewish nation has passed through during the centuries. It is not always easy to make a proper distinction. The Ethiopian eunuch who was reading Isa.53 asked in perplexity: "Of whom writeth the prophet this, of himself or of some other man?" It was explained to him by Philip that the prophet was describing the sufferings of the One who had recently been put to death at Jerusalem. The Jews, however, to this day suppose that Isa.53 has reference to their own terrible history as a nation.

It is probable that the eunuch would likewise have been perplexed respecting the application of Psalm 22; was the writer describing his own experiences, or did he speak of another? The Psalm is described as a Psalm of David. Whether that be so or not, it seems quite probable that the writer began to write about himself. Before he had got very far the Holy Spirit comes upon him, and he commences describing, with a wealth of detail, circumstances which could not possibly have happened to himself. With a poet's imagination he writes of One who suffers intense agony of mind and body. With the skill of an artist he portrays a very vivid drama which grows more intense every moment, until it mounts to a climax and then abruptly terminates. After a pause the curtain is raised again, and a happier scene is presented. The Victim has become the Hero; the Suppliant Sufferer has given place to the Joyous Victor.

It seems quite evident that the Sufferer in the Psalm is an individual and not a nation, for verse 14 refers to his heart, bones and body, verse 15 to his tongue and jaws, verse 16 to hands and feet, and verse 18 to clothing. In verses 9 and 10 He looks back to childhood, and forward to death in verse 15. His situation is described with minuteness; He is exposed to the public view (verse 7), apparently He is fixed to one spot, for his enemies gather around him (verse 12), He is deprived of his clothing, for He can count his bones (verse 17), He sees his garments distributed (verse 18), and He has been subjected to violence, for his feet and hands have been bored through (verse 16). Inasmuch as Rotherham translates verse 17, "they, look for—they behold me," it may well be that either He has companions in suffering from whom it would seem to the onlookers desirable to distinguish him, or else that darkness has gathered and it is difficult to discern him. He is either absolutely friendless, or his friends are so few and feeble that they do not count, hence his repeated cries for Divine pity and succour (verse 11). Nevertheless, verse 22 shows that He has friends in the background, amounting to a large assembly, but they do not come into view till the sufferings are ended. His enemies are many; mankind in general reproach him, his own people despise him, beholders deride (verses 6.7 and 8). Meanwhile, his sufferings are intense, his strength flows away like water, and physical courage fails like wax (verses 14 and 15). He struggles to maintain faith in God, who seems to him to be far away and slow to rescue. Crying to him day and night brings no answer—the delay to help is all very mysterious. The fathers had trusted and been delivered in their adversities, He had trusted and not been delivered; indeed, verse 11 implies almost that He had been handed over to his enemies by permission of God. The sufferings grow in intensity, and his appeals for Divine aid are louder (verses 19 and 20), but the face of God seems turned away and in anguish He cries, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" (verse 1). His heart is bursting, He had never anticipated such intense mental suffering as that which these words imply. There is a last cry (verse 21): "Save me from the lion's mouth"— then silence reigns....

There is a sudden calm; all at once the strain of sorrow ceases with the "Yea" of verse 21 (Rotherham)..."Thou hast delivered me." There is no recurrence of pain, no further trace of a single sob, the voice is hushed in death, but, marvel of marvels, suddenly the voice is heard again and on a note of praise. It is the same voice—the same metre—the same direct address to God; despair has given place to praise, keenest suffering has given way to ecstatic joy, all is changed! Deliverance has come! So great is his gratitude that He must shout his deliverance abroad (verses 21 and 22). His own deliverance is a matter of the deepest interest to the world at large. He calls upon Jew and Gentile to praise Jehovah, "For He hath not despised nor abhorred the humbling of the patient one, neither hath He hid his face from him, but, when he cried for help unto him, he heard. Of thee, is my praise in the great convocation, My vows, will I pay, before them who revere him" (verses 24 and 25, Rotherham).

As we go through this Psalm there is in our minds one name only: JESUS. Surely, it is the crucifixion of our Saviour which is here portrayed with such a depth of feeling and wealth of pathos. It could not be anyone else. We seem to hear the appealing cry: "Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Behold, and see if there be any sorrow like unto my sorrow, which is done unto me, wherewith the LORD hath afflicted me in the day of his fierce anger" (Lam.1.12). We cannot pass by, we are arrested and gaze at that sublime exhibition of sacrifice and suffering, we marvel and silently meditate upon the Mystery of Divine Love. It is much to us—nay, it is EVERYTHING to us.

Did the Father hear when Jesus cried unto him? Yes, He heard, and showed that He heard by mercifully cutting short those sufferings and eventually raising Jesus again from the grave. Because of his trust in God, He came forth an overcomer, a hero—a conqueror.

The lesson is an inspiring one. Often God does not answer prayer for deliverance exactly the way we expect; we have to descend into the very depths first before He puts forth his power to rescue, and then aid comes in an unforeseen manner. His ways are manifold, wise and loving and just, as He rescued our Lord and Saviour from the power of death, so He can and will rescue all who put their confidence in him. "For He hath not despised nor abhorred the humbling of the Patient One, neither hath He hid his face from him, but when He cried for help unto him He heard."

What a very fitting sequel the last few verses present. Only through the Redeemer's death—the one and only great sacrifice for sin, can mankind obtain life. There is no salvation except through Jesus, and we have the assurance that when the knowledge of God's way of salvation is known in all the earth, then all the ends of the world will turn unto the Lord. All shall worship before him and recognise that apart from Jesus none can keep alive his own soul. Through all the coming ages the story of this great sacrifice will be told, and the exulting shout of praise to God will pass from mouth to mouth: "He hath done it, He hath done it!" Truly, it will then be fulfilled that Jesus shall "see of the travail of his soul, and shall be satisfied." (Isaiah 53.11)