Not Yet (Psa 119.82)

Mine eyes fail for thy word,
Saying, When wilt thou comfort me? (Psa 119.82)

Triumphalism, that unrealistic expectation of enjoying in this life nearly all of the blessings, whether physical or spiritual, of the age to come, threatens the well-being of sensitive Christians because it only deepens their dejection. That crucible of unfulfilled desires, whether holy or natural, instead of being accepted as the normal lot of God’s beloved people, is interpreted rather by triumphalists as a sure sign of exclusion from his favor, and this only increases the miseries suffered by the poor Christian.

To be sure, the Scripture does teach that faithful believers enjoy, even now, a real spiritual victory not experienced by unbelievers. Infallibly guided by the Holy Spirit, the apostle Paul wrote exultingly, “Now thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ, and maketh manifest the savour of his knowledge by us in every place” (2 Cor 2.14). Paul is testifying that God was giving them the knowledge, resolve, and strength to persevere in an itinerant ministry of gospel preaching, and many were being saved and edified by this means. In this victory there really were grounds for joyful celebration!

But the apostle is completely misunderstood as teaching an escape from all suffering, depression, and disappointment in this life. From his calling into fellowship with Christ and ordination to the ministry, suffering was Paul’s lot (Acts 9.16). Though many regard him as the greatest Christian who has ever lived, at many times he could have easily sympathized with the sorrowful spirit of the psalmist in our text.

Both the Word of God and authentic Christian experience bear witness to the reality of this age being a time in many respects of the “not yet”—of waiting on the Lord to deliver us and pour out upon us many of the blessings of his promises yet unfulfilled. The “not yet” period must extend all the way until the second coming of our Lord Jesus Christ in power and glory, and then all our “not yet” experiences will be over forever. Even the memories of former heartaches will not chase us in the new heavens and the new earth. Does this not explain why the NT reverberates with a palpable expectancy founded upon the imminent return of Christ? He Himself is the embodiment and realization of every blessing, and when we have him in every sense, we can want no longer.

We would offer a few simple comments of interpretation upon our text and then a biblical illustration.

A CRY IN THE “NOT YET”

First consider his question in prayer, “When wilt thou [God] comfort me?” (line two). He was a man in need of comfort, and he was becoming weary from waiting for it. To ask “when” is to express an urgency of desire. He was suffering in a way that only God could relieve. Any kind of pain is uncomfortable by definition, but pain is greatly exacerbated when it is much prolonged. Practically equivalent and frequent in the Psalms is the question, “How long, O Lord?” (6.3; 13.1-2; 35.17; 74.10; 79.5; 80.4; 89.46; 90.13; 94.3-4). This is the pitiful wail of one in agony. It is like the stripped, wounded, and half-dead man on the side of the road waiting for the tender loving care that would bring him back to health, finally rendered by the good Samaritan (Luke 10.30 ff.).

We should note that even an eminent prophet of the Lord, which the psalmist was, is the author of this cry. And his was no sinful urge, but the inspired expression of his godly heart while under the powerful direction of the Holy Spirit. “When will you comfort me, God?” Dear brethren, when you feel like that, it is therefore no sign of being unconverted on your part, or much less of being unspiritual in any way. Times of soul-anguish are the lot of God’s people this side of glory. This is completely normal and to be expected.

A CONFESSION IN THE “NOT YET”

Now consider the first line, “Mine eyes fail [or, pine away] for thy word [or, promise1]” (line one). God’s word or promise is like an announcement that help is on the way, and the psalmist is looking for that help. Instead of saying, “Mine eyes fail for thy help,” he substitutes the word for the help it promises, and the meaning is perfectly clear.

The psalmist speaks figuratively, using a metaphor of vision. He is looking, as it were, for help on the horizon, peering anxiously to that far off spot from whence the deliverance shall come. He continues looking for hours, days, weeks, months, perhaps even years, and he feels his vision is about to fail from the strain. Of course all this is intended to mean that his patience has been dwindling and dwindling, and now it is almost exhausted—but only almost, because a true believer perseveres as a believer by the preserving grace of God.

In a really dark night of the soul, it does not feel that way. We have known those with convincing marks of true faith profess to be in despair, and we have wept over their extremity, but they were not really in total despair. “The logical outcome of genuine despair would seem to be suicide. If a man is not prepared for that, he does not really despair, but only fancies so” (anonymous).2 “Hopeless and lifeless go together” (William Gurnall).

Indeed, the psalmist is not suicidal but prayerful. “Mine eyes fail for thy word,” but evidently they do not fail completely, because he is still calling upon the Lord to do what he promised! Even when a believer comes to the point when his prayers cannot be put into words and are expressed as sighs and moans, they only show him to be the bruised reed the Lord will not break, and the smoking flax he will not quench (Isa 42.3). Oh, praise God for his tender mercies toward his precious children!

John Calvin was an unusually great student of Scripture and knew experientially what it was to suffer many and great trials, from chronic abdominal pain to persecutions. His wisdom is evident when he wrote, “There is no place for faith if we expect God to fulfill immediately what he promises.” The “not yet” is the time of sifting between those who will believe God’s Word, and those who will not, and the Judgment Day which introduces eternity will openly declare those who passed the test. “Patience is the fruit and proof of faith. “Where there is no patience, there is not even a spark of faith.” Calvin also said these things with plenty of biblical warrant.

There are many great biblical illustrations of faith, manifest in prayer, persevering in the “not yet,” but one comes to my mind as particularly striking. It is the case of Elijah on Mount Carmel after the prophets of Baal were slain. After a three and a half year drought sent as God’s discipline upon the idolatrous people of Israel, now penitent for their apostasy, this super-prophet of the OT confesses his faith and gives himself to prayer for rain.

And Elijah said unto Ahab, Get thee up, eat and drink; for there is a sound of abundance of rain. So Ahab went up to eat and to drink. And Elijah went up to the top of Carmel; and he cast himself down upon the earth, and put his face between his knees, and said to his servant, Go up now, look toward the sea. And he went up, and looked, and said, There is nothing. And he said, Go again seven times. And it came to pass at the seventh time, that he said, Behold, there ariseth a little cloud out of the sea, like a man’s hand. And he said, Go up, say unto Ahab, Prepare thy chariot, and get thee down, that the rain stop thee not. And it came to pass in the mean while, that the heaven was black with clouds and wind, and there was a great rain (1 Kgs 18.41-45).

Although Elijah’s time on his knees was no more than a few hours, does he not picture our posture as real Christians in the “not yet”? God has promised rain after our repentance and faith, and yet the rain has not come. What can we do? What should we do?

First, acknowledge the drought. “Lord, please hear me and know that I mean no irreverence, but my patience waiting for your blessings is nearly exhausted. I have been praying again and again for so long, ‘When will you hear my sorry begging and give me the relief I need? When, O Lord?” Praying like this is not wrong, whatever the triumphalists tell you. We have countless examples of it in the holiest people through the ages.

Then—and this is the hardest part—wait. The “not yet” days of your life and this age are passing swifter than a weaver’s beam or an email in cyberspace. “Patient waiting is often the highest way of doing God’s will” (Jeremy Collier). And after all, as the sweetest-writing Puritan Thomas Watson said, “Patience makes the Christian invincible.” Our triumph now is to wait for our inevitable triumph when our Savior comes. The Lord sustain us in the meantime. Amen.

Notes:

1. Both alternate renderings are from the Tanakh.
2. The Complete Gathered Gold, ed. John Blanchard; all other quotations from this source.

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