Bringing good out of bad

Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word... It was good for me to be afflicted, so that I might learn your decrees... I know, Lord, that your laws are righteous, and that in faithfulness you have afflicted me. Psalm 119:67, 71, 75

It’s a long psalm, 119. I remember, in my teen-age years, how a girl in our youth group volunteered to read the Bible passage in a service. The leader said it was Psalm 119, so off she went to read it through and get ready. Five minutes later she came back with a horrified look on her face: “It’s got 176 verses!” She was relieved to learn that it was the leader’s little joke (ha-very-ha)…

Yes, it’s a long psalm. Which means that, though it’s divided up into bite-size sections (each starting with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet), it’s not easy to get to know; putting it another way, though there are some very striking passages which deserve close attention, they can easily get lost in the sheer welter of verses.

One thing that has struck me over the years is the theme of “affliction”, and especially the way it pops up three times in the space of just a dozen verses or so (verses 65-75). It’s as if the psalmist can’t get it out of his head, for he keeps coming back to it from a slightly different angle.

Is it possible to trace a recurring thread? – to see his thoughts moving in stages? I think it is…

First, stage one… verse 67 looks back to what was a real turning point in his life: “Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word”. He looks back (“Before…”) but then comes up to date (“but now…”).

He doesn’t tell us what his particular affliction was. As with us today, it can take many forms: sickness, sorrow, failure, humiliation, disappointment. Some Bible translations take it here to be “punishment”, in the sense of God’s discipline. Whatever, it has obviously been a painful and upsetting experience, and he associates it with a time when he “went astray”.

We shouldn’t automatically blame ourselves when something goes wrong in our lives: in the New Testament Jesus firmly rules that out - in relation to the man born blind (John 9:1-12), and to the hapless victims of Roman brutality, and the collapse of the tower in Siloam (Luke 13:1-5). But we shouldn’t totally rule out the possibility: we may have in fact brought it on our own heads. If we act foolishly and sinfully, well, there are likely to be repercussions, aren’t there?

However that may be in our circumstances, the psalmist in Psalm 119 sees a connection between his suffering and his errant behaviour. Could the same thing be true for us? The question, surely, is worth asking, for it is easy to become complacent and spiritually sluggish. A fresh start is never a bad idea if that is the case. Could it be time for you or me to pray very honestly, “Search me, O God, and know my heart…”?

Second, stage two… verse 71 is a clear advance on the observation of verse 67: “It was good for me to be afflicted so that I might learn your decrees”.

That word “good” is certainly striking. Perhaps he has experienced what is often known these days as a “lightbulb moment”: Hey, that dark and painful time is turning out for my good! I am seeing the pattern of my life with greater clarity. No, I didn’t enjoy my affliction while it lasted, but I believe it has refined and strengthened my weak faith. It has brought me back under the authority of God’s word (referred to here as his “decrees”). Isn’t hindsight a wonderful thing!

The psalmist, of course, didn’t know Paul’s letter to the Romans, but I am sure he would have fully endorsed the words of chapter 8 verse 28: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him…” That expression “all things” is important; Paul doesn’t mean just the rather inconvenient things, the nuisances of life, or even obviously “spiritual” things; no, by “all things” he means “all things”!

I recently read a Christian book by two Christian writers who have devoted years of study to what we often call “natural disasters” like earthquakes, famines and floods, the sort of things that very naturally cause us to cry out “Why, Lord...!” They have humbling stories to tell of deep faith, truly heroic service - and wonderfully unexpected outcomes.

This isn’t an easy truth to speak to people in the midst of affliction (as I write I’m thinking of the terrible catastrophe that recently struck the people of Valencia, Spain). No, there must be no shallow, glib comforts offered – remember Job’s comforters. But Romans 8:28 remains true nonetheless, and one day, by God’s grace, that will become apparent to us.

Third, stage three… verse 75 indicates that the psalmist’s affliction has taken him deeper in his understanding of the character of God: “...in faithfulness you have afflicted me”. God is a faithful God.

But how can affliction be a sign of God’s faithfulness? A fair question.  Perhaps the best commentary on this verse is found in the New Testament letter to the Hebrews, chapter 12 verses 7-12: “Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children…” It’s not that God hates you or even that he is angry with you (though perhaps very sad). No, his discipline is a sign of his fatherly love. If he didn’t care about you he wouldn’t bother.

When Jesus told his followers to address God as “our Father in heaven” he meant it with compete seriousness.

Let’s sum up the psalmist’s train of thought…

He starts with a statement of fact: “Before I was afflicted I went astray… (verse 67). He progresses to a flash of new understanding: “It was good for me to be afflicted…!” (verse 71). He finishes with a fresh grasp of just who this holy God is: “in faithfulness you have afflicted me” (verse 75).

Do some of us need to let the psalmist’s journey of discovery reprogramme our minds too?

Father, I confess that I like my life to be comfortable and trouble-free. But I recognise that this earthly life just isn’t like that. Help me to confront it with faith in your good purposes, and so to draw good out of what seems bad. Amen.

God whispers in our pleasures but shouts in our pain. C S Lewis.