Psalm 102
A prayer of an afflicted person who has grown weak and pours out a lament before the Lord.
1 Hear my prayer, LORD;
let my cry for help come to you.
2 Do not hide your face from me
when I am in distress.
Turn your ear to me;
when I call, answer me quickly.
3 For my days vanish like smoke;
my bones burn like glowing embers.
4 My heart is blighted and withered like grass;
I forget to eat my food.
5 In my distress I groan aloud
and am reduced to skin and bones.
6 I am like a desert owl,
like an owl among the ruins.
7 I lie awake; I have become
like a bird alone on a roof.
8 All day long my enemies taunt me;
those who rail against me use my name as a curse.
9 For I eat ashes as my food
and mingle my drink with tears
10 because of your great wrath,
for you have taken me up and thrown me aside.
11 My days are like the evening shadow;
I wither away like grass.
12 But you, LORD, sit enthroned forever;
your renown endures through all generations.
13 You will arise and have compassion on Zion,
for it is time to show favor to her;
the appointed time has come.
14 For her stones are dear to your servants;
her very dust moves them to pity.
15 The nations will fear the name of the LORD,
all the kings of the earth will revere your glory.
16 For the LORD will rebuild Zion
and appear in his glory.
17 He will respond to the prayer of the destitute;
he will not despise their plea.
18 Let this be written for a future generation,
that a people not yet created may praise the LORD:
19 “The LORD looked down from his sanctuary on high,
from heaven he viewed the earth,
20 to hear the groans of the prisoners
and release those condemned to death.”
21So the name of the LORD will be declared in Zion
and his praise in Jerusalem
22 when the peoples and the kingdoms
assemble to worship the LORD.
23 In the course of my life he broke my strength;
he cut short my days.
24 So I said:
“Do not take me away, my God, in the midst of my days;
your years go on through all generations.
25 In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth,
and the heavens are the work of your hands.
26 They will perish, but you remain;
they will all wear out like a garment.
Like clothing you will change them
and they will be discarded.
27 But you remain the same,
and your years will never end.
28 The children of your servants will live in your presence;
their descendants will be established before you.”
Original Meaning
The Personal Lament (102:0–11)
A PRAYER OF AN AFFLICTED PERSON. The Hebrew words translated “afflicted one” and “lament” (‘ani and siah) are stock terms associated with suffering and spiritual complaint. They create a sense of expectation in the mind of the reader, and the psalmist does not disappoint. The section that follows displays all three of the classic types of lament in a single section of the poem: the I-lament (vv. 3–5),1
the enemy lament (vv. 6–8), and the God lament (vv. 9–10). There is an intensity about the superscription that is borne out in the prayer that follows.
For my days vanish like smoke. Following the standard petitions associated with lament in verses 1–2 (“hear my prayer,” “turn your ear to me,” “answer me quickly”), the psalmist voices his complaint with the mixed metaphors of a life that is being slowly consumed by fire and withering like grass (vv. 3–4). The graphic images imply suffering to the extent that the poet believes his life is about to be painfully extinguished. There is little left for him, and all seems hopeless. Alter comments, “The haunting image focuses two ideas, ephemerality and suffering.”2
There is an intensely personal potency of expression in this psalm. The reader is drawn to feel the anguished despair of the poet, whose body is failing him (v. 5).
I am like a desert owl. The second aspect of lament is focused on the opposition of enemies and expressed in terms of loneliness and social isolation (vv. 6–8). The sickness and physical decay of the I-lament is exacerbated by the mocking of enemies (v. 8). Not only does the psalmist suffer physically, but that suffering is also compounded by the mockery of his opponents. The enemies in this case are not the cause of the poet’s suffering, but their taunting presents him as an apparent example of God’s punishment in practice.3
As a result of the over-easy association between physical illness and the wrath of God in the ancient world, corporeal suffering was often exacerbated by a terrible sense of social isolation and spiritual/moral accusation that would have a traumatic effect on the human psyche. We see the effects of both physical and psychological torment in this opening section of Psalm 102 (“my heart is blighted,” “I forget to eat,” “I lie awake,” I “mingle my drink with tears”).
For I eat ashes as my food. The third element of this introductory lament section focuses on God as the Prime Mover and ultimate cause of the psalmist’s torment (the God lament). The psalms have a high view of God’s sovereignty, so even when enemies are the proximate cause of an individual’s suffering, Yahweh is always viewed as being ultimately responsible either for causing or failing to prevent the pain that causes lament. Although it is always difficult (if not impossible) to establish the circumstances that lie behind the penning of a particular psalm,4
it seems likely that the source of the psalmist’s suffering here is physical illness.5
The poet views his affliction as an expression of God’s anger (v. 10a) or even God’s aggression (v. 10b) toward him. The dual image of “taking me up and throwing me aside” is emblematic of the whirlwind. Akin to Job, the psalmist feels that God has dragged him into the chaos of the storm (Job 30:22). This afflication is the experience mentioned in the superscription.
My days are like the evening shadow. There is a strong time theme that runs throughout the whole of Psalm 102. “Day” and “days” are key words repeated often (vv. 2, 3, 8, 11, 23, 24), and we see repeated signs of the psalmist’s awareness of life’s slipping away from him (vv. 3, 11, 23). Days “like the evening shadow” is a vivid image of the end of life—darkness approaches. This picture is combined with the repetition of the simile of “withered grass” (cf. v. 4). The passing of the day toward night and the slow death of vegetation in the summer heat are both common images of imminent death.6
The poet’s days are over and his strength is giving out.
Bridging Contexts
HOW MANY POEMS? One of the main points for discussion in the commentaries regarding Psalm 102 is its somewhat unusual structure. As discussed above, the poem moves from personal lament probably in the face of illness (vv. 1–11), to a hymnic expression of hope regarding the restoration of Zion (vv. 12–22), and back to a personal lament regarding the foreshortening of life (vv. 23–28). The unusual collocation of themes leads many commentators to surmise that two originally separate poems have been spliced together into one psalm by a later editor.19
In the Psalms, it is not entirely uncommon for the fate of a representative individual to be entwined with the fate of the nation (and vice versa; e.g., see Pss 22 and 69).20
There is a link between the personal and the corporate in this psalm that encourages two-way reflection. The poet reflects on his own difficult experiences in the light of the fall of Jerusalem, but he also implies the future hope of the restoration of Zion back into his own bleak circumstances. He despairs, just as the nation mourns, but he also finds personal hope in the divine promises to the people as a whole. This interplay between individual and national prayer may seem unusual to the modern Western mindset, but such corporate affiliation was common in the ancient Near East and remains so in other parts of the modern world today.21
Psalm 102 in the New Testament. Psalm 102:25–27 is cited in Hebrews 1:10–12 as part of the author’s argument that Christ brings a superior revelation than that brought by angels. Unsurprisingly, the author reads the reference to Yahweh’s eternal rule as a statement of Jesus’ unchanging kingship.22
Christ is presented as Creator and eternal Ruler. He will remain even though the cosmic order passes away. As is typical throughout this section of the epistle, references to Yahweh’s rule are ascribed to Jesus’ person and ministry: quite simply, Jesus is the Most High God, the author argues.23
Contemporary Significance
PRIVATE PRAYER,
OUR NATION, AND THE NATIONS. It seems to me that the contemporary Christian often has a somewhat ambivalent relationship with the broader society in which she lives. We decry the demise of biblical morality in the formerly Christian West. We distance ourselves from the currents and trends of our countries and cultures because they so often run counter to biblical faith. Yet the psalmist here sets for us an example that entwines deeply personal petition with prayer for the nation and, indeed, for all nations.
Of course, hermeneutically speaking, our home nations cannot be equated with the Israel of the Old Testament. They are not recipients of the promises made to Israel under the old covenant, nor do they hold the same position in God’s plans for the world. But the example of prayer that encompasses our own fate and that of the nation(s) is a helpful one. As John Stott so fervently argued, if Christians are meant to be salt and light in the world, then moral decay in our cultures is, at least in part, our fault.24
So often our prayers for our own nation complain about its demise rather than lamenting our own ineffectual witness and seeking after God for renewal both of our testimony and of our lands. Stott argues:
Christian salt has no business to remain snugly in elegant little ecclesiastical salt cellars; our place is to be rubbed into the secular community, as salt is rubbed into meat, to stop it going bad. And when society does go bad, we Christians tend to throw up our hands in pious horror and reproach the non-Christian world, but should we not rather reproach ourselves? One can hardly blame unsalted meat for going bad. It cannot do anything else. The real question to ask is: where is the salt?25
There is a good example for us in the prayer of Psalm 102. The poet is not so focused on himself that he fails to see the world around him.26
Nor is he so focused on his own pain that he forgets the character of God. Remembering God’s faithful work in the world brings hope to even the darkest of personal circumstances. All too often our prayers never see beyond ourselves and our nuclear family, though sometimes wider family, friends, neighbors, and our local congregation are drawn in. The psalmist gives us an example of prayer that encompasses deep personal hurt but also goes beyond it with a prayerful vision for his nation (vv. 13–17) and envisions the missional inclusion of all nations into the worshiping community of God’s family (vv. 18–22).
Prayer is a deeply personal matter, but Psalm 102 models an attitude to prayer that goes beyond the solely personal. We should follow its example.27
Original Meaning
National Crisis and Future Hope (102:12–22)
BUT YOU, LORD, SIT ENTHRONED FOREVER. The second section of the poem transitions from personal complaint to an expression of sadness at the demise of Jerusalem but also of hope in the city’s future restoration.7
There is a strong contrast in the Hebrew of verses 11 and 12. More literally, the psalmist says, “and as for me, I wither like grass” (wa’ani, v. 11b), which is here contrasted with the emphatic “but as for you, O Yahweh” (we’attah, v. 12a). The poet’s days pass in the blink of an eye, but the Lord reigns throughout all eternity. “Human frailty encounters divine permanence.”8
On one level, there is hope in this thought—on another, it is daunting for the psalmist. How can he contend with the God who reigns absolutely and forever?9
This conundrum is part of the great tension of lament.10
You will arise and have compassion on Zion. The movement from the individual to Zion is a surprising one, but such a transition is not altogether uncommon. Psalm 102 is often described as one of the seven penitential psalms alongside Psalms 6, 32, 38, (famously) 51, 130, and 143, though it must be said that there is no absolutely clear indication the poet’s suffering is rooted in sinful behavior.11
But if that were the case, then the individual’s experience echoes that of the nation and the city. Israel has fallen, Zion is lost, and the great suffering that follows is the result of the people’s sinful rebellion. Regardless of the root causes of the individual’s complaint, his lament voices the pain of the people at the loss of their locus of worship. Nation, land, king, city, and temple—the external signs of God’s covenantal promises—are no more, and the poet’s prayer of despair in verses 1–11 voices well the people’s sense of tragic loss and suffering that results from the exile (“her stones are dear to your servants” [v. 14]). The fault may have been theirs in the first place, but the pain experienced is no less real.
The appointed time has come. Nevertheless, there is hope! As we have discussed above (see Pss 93–101), one of the main themes of this section of Book 4 of the Psalms is the idea that Israel’s God still reigns, despite all appearances to the contrary. Yahweh is the eternal King (Ps 102:12), and the psalmist hopes that God will evidence his kingship through the restoration of the city. “For it is time to show favor to her; the appointed time has come” further stresses the importance of the time theme observed in the initial lament section (vv. 1–11). The poet believes that his days are passing and that he can cope with no more on the individual level, but here the voice speaks of hope. Maybe the despair and suffering are about to come to an end on the corporate level.
The nations will fear the name of the LORD. The root of this burgeoning hope is missionally grounded. Why is there hope of restoration? Because the nations need to see and realize that Yahweh is in fact King of the cosmos, and they need to make an appropriate response to his sovereignty. How better for the surrounding peoples to recognize Yahweh’s undisputed kingship than through the restoration of the city that symbolizes his rule on earth? The response of “fear” is the same response that is expected of Israel (Deut 10:12–13). In seeing Jerusalem restored and the people returned, the nations will be confronted with hard evidence of the lordship of Israel’s God, and they will have to respond accordingly. The poet’s hope is not based on any sense of the remarkably renewed righteousness of the people. It is rather grounded in a recognition that the missio Dei must always move forward.12
He will respond to the prayer of the destitute. Verse 17 indicates that the juxtaposition of the two voices (individual lament and corporate restoration) in Psalm 102 is not quite as jarring as some commentators would have us believe. The focus is different, but the resonance with the superscription is poignant. With reference to Zion, the poet expresses his confidence that Israel’s God, Yahweh, will hear the prayer of the destitute. It seems likely that this tone of confidence is meant to be read back into the individual despair of the one who prays at the beginning and end of this psalm. If there is hope for Zion in the divine response to prayer, there must also be hope for the individual who prays. This realization is predicated on the reminder that God is a God of compassion (v. 13).13
The LORD looked down from his sanctuary on high. Just as this section of Psalm 102 echoes many of the restoration themes of Isaiah 40–66, so also we see resonances of the original escape from exile detailed in the account of the exodus. The image of the Lord looking down from his sanctuary in Psalm 102:19 echoes the divine awareness of his people’s suffering in Egypt (Exod 3:7–10). There is something deeply caring and almost incarnational in the concern expressed. That the sentence flows from verse 19 to verse 22 is quite unusual in psalmic poetry, and here the thoughts present Yahweh as being truly attentive to both sights and sounds and as responsive to the needs of those who are suffering. He not only sees, but he also pays attention to the realities of his people and acts in an efficacious manner. Such knowledge of God’s character gives all future generations of believers cause to praise, regardless of their present experience (v. 18).14
Since God has proven himself to be the God of both exodus and restoration in the past, surely he will be such again.
So the name of the LORD will be declared. There are three clear effects of God’s attentiveness to his people: hearing, releasing, and declaring (vv. 20–21). The aim of his observation is to hear the needs of his people and to set free those imprisoned so that his name (i.e., his true character and being) will be declared in the midst of his people. The revelation of God’s perfect character through his perfect actions should always result in a response of praise from his people. The act of liberation must inevitably be met with songs of praise.
When the peoples and the kingdoms assemble to worship the LORD. The inevitable consequence of the revelation of God’s character through his intervention in the realities of this world is to attract those who are, as yet, outside the community of faith into the worshiping body. God’s works in the world draw people to worship him. Yahweh hears and responds to the prayers of his people, thus leading them to voice their praise of his perfect character and power. This testimony of praise draws others in to find out more about the God who is graciously and effectively at work in the world. In a manner reminiscent of Psalm 126:1–3, testimony to God’s goodness draws others to see his true nature and respond to him. “Nations and kingdoms will be gathered not for judgment, as in Psalm 79:6, or for strife among nations, as in Psalm 46:7, but to worship Yhwh, as in Isaiah 2; Micah 4; Isaiah 60.”15
Bridging Contexts
HOW MANY POEMS? One of the main points for discussion in the commentaries regarding Psalm 102 is its somewhat unusual structure. As discussed above, the poem moves from personal lament probably in the face of illness (vv. 1–11), to a hymnic expression of hope regarding the restoration of Zion (vv. 12–22), and back to a personal lament regarding the foreshortening of life (vv. 23–28). The unusual collocation of themes leads many commentators to surmise that two originally separate poems have been spliced together into one psalm by a later editor.19
In the Psalms, it is not entirely uncommon for the fate of a representative individual to be entwined with the fate of the nation (and vice versa; e.g., see Pss 22 and 69).20
There is a link between the personal and the corporate in this psalm that encourages two-way reflection. The poet reflects on his own difficult experiences in the light of the fall of Jerusalem, but he also implies the future hope of the restoration of Zion back into his own bleak circumstances. He despairs, just as the nation mourns, but he also finds personal hope in the divine promises to the people as a whole. This interplay between individual and national prayer may seem unusual to the modern Western mindset, but such corporate affiliation was common in the ancient Near East and remains so in other parts of the modern world today.21
Psalm 102 in the New Testament. Psalm 102:25–27 is cited in Hebrews 1:10–12 as part of the author’s argument that Christ brings a superior revelation than that brought by angels. Unsurprisingly, the author reads the reference to Yahweh’s eternal rule as a statement of Jesus’ unchanging kingship.22
Christ is presented as Creator and eternal Ruler. He will remain even though the cosmic order passes away. As is typical throughout this section of the epistle, references to Yahweh’s rule are ascribed to Jesus’ person and ministry: quite simply, Jesus is the Most High God, the author argues.23
Contemporary Significance
PRIVATE PRAYER,
OUR NATION, AND THE NATIONS. It seems to me that the contemporary Christian often has a somewhat ambivalent relationship with the broader society in which she lives. We decry the demise of biblical morality in the formerly Christian West. We distance ourselves from the currents and trends of our countries and cultures because they so often run counter to biblical faith. Yet the psalmist here sets for us an example that entwines deeply personal petition with prayer for the nation and, indeed, for all nations.
Of course, hermeneutically speaking, our home nations cannot be equated with the Israel of the Old Testament. They are not recipients of the promises made to Israel under the old covenant, nor do they hold the same position in God’s plans for the world. But the example of prayer that encompasses our own fate and that of the nation(s) is a helpful one. As John Stott so fervently argued, if Christians are meant to be salt and light in the world, then moral decay in our cultures is, at least in part, our fault.24
So often our prayers for our own nation complain about its demise rather than lamenting our own ineffectual witness and seeking after God for renewal both of our testimony and of our lands. Stott argues:
Christian salt has no business to remain snugly in elegant little ecclesiastical salt cellars; our place is to be rubbed into the secular community, as salt is rubbed into meat, to stop it going bad. And when society does go bad, we Christians tend to throw up our hands in pious horror and reproach the non-Christian world, but should we not rather reproach ourselves? One can hardly blame unsalted meat for going bad. It cannot do anything else. The real question to ask is: where is the salt?25
There is a good example for us in the prayer of Psalm 102. The poet is not so focused on himself that he fails to see the world around him.26
Nor is he so focused on his own pain that he forgets the character of God. Remembering God’s faithful work in the world brings hope to even the darkest of personal circumstances. All too often our prayers never see beyond ourselves and our nuclear family, though sometimes wider family, friends, neighbors, and our local congregation are drawn in. The psalmist gives us an example of prayer that encompasses deep personal hurt but also goes beyond it with a prayerful vision for his nation (vv. 13–17) and envisions the missional inclusion of all nations into the worshiping community of God’s family (vv. 18–22).
Prayer is a deeply personal matter, but Psalm 102 models an attitude to prayer that goes beyond the solely personal. We should follow its example.27
Original Meaning
Passing Life, Eternal God (102:23–28)
IN THE COURSE OF MY LIFE HE BROKE MY STRENGTH. The Hebrew is a little awkward here, as the psalmist returns to a voice of lament, but the implication seems to be that God has cut short the petitioner’s life. His days are passing quickly, and there is not much life left for him, so once again he offers his prayer to God (v. 24a). As we have also seen elsewhere in our study of the psalms, this psalm demonstrates the tension of lament: the petitioner believes God to lie at the very root of his suffering, yet God is also his only hope for restoration. The tension is a real and dynamic aspect of truly biblical spirituality. Although the concluding prayer echoes the despair of the first lament section (vv. 1–11), the reader approaches this closing section slightly differently. The psalmist’s prayer may remain unanswered in the here and now, but we have been reminded of a God who hears the groaning of his people’s suffering and responds with gracious release (vv. 19–20). Yahweh’s response to the prayers of a nation gives the individual hope in his suffering.
Your years go on through all generations. There is a temporal contrast throughout this section of Psalm 102. The fleeting brevity of human life, particularly a life apparently being cut short by illness, is contrasted with the eternal reign of God (vv. 24b–27). In some ways the contrast is stark. The poet decries the abbreviation of his life in juxtaposition with the timelessness of God (v. 24), yet ultimately there is comfort to be found in the eternal reign of the Creator because he is “my God.” The personal vocative indicates that there is hope to be found in relationship with God even when one’s days are shrouded in darkness and difficulty.
In the beginning you laid the foundations of the earth. The created order reflects the power and control of God (v. 25). In a deliberate echo of Genesis 1, the psalmist paints a picture of a deity of unimaginable ability. Laying the foundations of the earth is completely beyond human understanding, let alone the ability to replicate such action. The reference to the psalmist’s God as Creator conjures images of unimaginable power, control, and creativity. The reference is probably meant to imply that the God who made order out of chaos in creation is more than able to order the chaos of a life. The King of the universe, Creator of all things, is surely Lord over the life of the individual as well, sick or not. As we will see below, that hope may be more eschatological than temporal (v. 28).
They will perish, but you remain. The declaration of Yahweh as Creator and Sustainer of the cosmos is common enough in the Old Testament. Discussion of the temporality of the physical order is less frequent but clearly stated here in verse 26 (cf. Isa 51:6). Despite the appearance of permanence, the earth is in reality nothing more than a garment that will wear out in the light of God’s actual permanence. It is a good jacket, which has lasted well, but its timespan does not compare to the existence of the God “who was, and is, and is to come” (Rev 4:8).
But you remain the same, and your years will never end. Literally, the Hebrew of Psalm 102:27 reads, “But you are he.”16
The phrase presents the psalmist’s God as sui generis. He is in a category all his own. No one and nothing, not even the cosmos, is like him. The cosmic realm will end, but Yahweh’s existence, rule, and reign continue forever.
The children of your servants will live in your presence. The psalm ends with a voice of hope for restoration in the future. The enjoyment of God’s presence as part of worship in the temple precinct is not a privilege available to the psalmist and his generation.17
The passage of time is a very relative concept for the eternal King; therefore, there is hope that future generations will see the restoration of the temple and enjoy his presence there. The psalmist’s days may be shortened, but God has made covenantal promises to his people, so there is hope for the longer term. God is a God of restoration (v. 16). There is always hope for the future. This optimistic final voice also serves as an aide-mémoire for the petitioner: just as there is hope for the future for God’s people, so there may well be hope in the poet’s own personal circumstance, regardless of how bleak things look now.18
Bridging Contexts
HOW MANY POEMS? One of the main points for discussion in the commentaries regarding Psalm 102 is its somewhat unusual structure. As discussed above, the poem moves from personal lament probably in the face of illness (vv. 1–11), to a hymnic expression of hope regarding the restoration of Zion (vv. 12–22), and back to a personal lament regarding the foreshortening of life (vv. 23–28). The unusual collocation of themes leads many commentators to surmise that two originally separate poems have been spliced together into one psalm by a later editor.19
In the Psalms, it is not entirely uncommon for the fate of a representative individual to be entwined with the fate of the nation (and vice versa; e.g., see Pss 22 and 69).20
There is a link between the personal and the corporate in this psalm that encourages two-way reflection. The poet reflects on his own difficult experiences in the light of the fall of Jerusalem, but he also implies the future hope of the restoration of Zion back into his own bleak circumstances. He despairs, just as the nation mourns, but he also finds personal hope in the divine promises to the people as a whole. This interplay between individual and national prayer may seem unusual to the modern Western mindset, but such corporate affiliation was common in the ancient Near East and remains so in other parts of the modern world today.21
Psalm 102 in the New Testament. Psalm 102:25–27 is cited in Hebrews 1:10–12 as part of the author’s argument that Christ brings a superior revelation than that brought by angels. Unsurprisingly, the author reads the reference to Yahweh’s eternal rule as a statement of Jesus’ unchanging kingship.22
Christ is presented as Creator and eternal Ruler. He will remain even though the cosmic order passes away. As is typical throughout this section of the epistle, references to Yahweh’s rule are ascribed to Jesus’ person and ministry: quite simply, Jesus is the Most High God, the author argues.23
Contemporary Significance
PRIVATE PRAYER,
OUR NATION, AND THE NATIONS. It seems to me that the contemporary Christian often has a somewhat ambivalent relationship with the broader society in which she lives. We decry the demise of biblical morality in the formerly Christian West. We distance ourselves from the currents and trends of our countries and cultures because they so often run counter to biblical faith. Yet the psalmist here sets for us an example that entwines deeply personal petition with prayer for the nation and, indeed, for all nations.
Of course, hermeneutically speaking, our home nations cannot be equated with the Israel of the Old Testament. They are not recipients of the promises made to Israel under the old covenant, nor do they hold the same position in God’s plans for the world. But the example of prayer that encompasses our own fate and that of the nation(s) is a helpful one. As John Stott so fervently argued, if Christians are meant to be salt and light in the world, then moral decay in our cultures is, at least in part, our fault.24
So often our prayers for our own nation complain about its demise rather than lamenting our own ineffectual witness and seeking after God for renewal both of our testimony and of our lands. Stott argues:
Christian salt has no business to remain snugly in elegant little ecclesiastical salt cellars; our place is to be rubbed into the secular community, as salt is rubbed into meat, to stop it going bad. And when society does go bad, we Christians tend to throw up our hands in pious horror and reproach the non-Christian world, but should we not rather reproach ourselves? One can hardly blame unsalted meat for going bad. It cannot do anything else. The real question to ask is: where is the salt?25
There is a good example for us in the prayer of Psalm 102. The poet is not so focused on himself that he fails to see the world around him.26
Nor is he so focused on his own pain that he forgets the character of God. Remembering God’s faithful work in the world brings hope to even the darkest of personal circumstances. All too often our prayers never see beyond ourselves and our nuclear family, though sometimes wider family, friends, neighbors, and our local congregation are drawn in. The psalmist gives us an example of prayer that encompasses deep personal hurt but also goes beyond it with a prayerful vision for his nation (vv. 13–17) and envisions the missional inclusion of all nations into the worshiping community of God’s family (vv. 18–22).
Prayer is a deeply personal matter, but Psalm 102 models an attitude to prayer that goes beyond the solely personal. We should follow its example.27
