Psalm 22: Bulls and Lions and Dogs, Oh My: Part II

12 "Many bulls encircle me,
strong bulls of Bashan surround me;
13 they open wide their mouths at me,
like a ravening and roaring lion.
14 I am poured out like water,
and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax;
it is melted within my breast;
15 my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.
16 For dogs are all around me;
a company of evildoers encircles me.
My hands and feet have shrivelled;
17 I can count all my bones.
They stare and gloat over me;
18 they divide my clothes among themselves,
and for my clothing they cast lots."

Let's turn now to the Psalm. We can outline vv. 24 in the following broad way: (1) The Psalmist's Suffering Cry (vv. 1-18); (2) The Psalmist's Cry for Deliverance (vv. 19-24). I will spend comparatively more time on the first.

I. The Psalmist's Suffering Cry (22: 1-18)

The first 18 verses comprise a sort of running dialogue in the mind of the Psalmist. The two dialogue partners are the Psalmist's pain and his memory. Pain speaks today, ripping at his flesh figuratively and literally. Memory speaks of a time in the past, when God's gracious deeds were celebrated and gratefully received. Pain and memory discuss with each other, and pain eventually wins. This won't be the last word of the Psalm but, liturgically speaking, the Psalm will "end" at a cry for deliverance. Easter will be "our triumphant holy day," but, in the meantime, suffering does have the last word. Pain stamps out memory or, better said, drowns it out. The song of anguish beats louder and more convincingly than that of memory.

Here is a way of dividing the first 18 verses:

1-2, The Psalmist's Forsakenness
3-5, The "Protest" of Memory
6-8, Yet, Things Really Are Bad
9-11, A Counter-Argument of Memory
12-18, The Triumph of Pain

There isn't space to say much about every one of these sections. Let it suffice to review the outline carefully and then focus on vv. 12-18. As you see, the first 18 verses are a sort of antiphonal chant between pain and memory. In vv. 1-2 the Psalmist is in agony not only because of his current situation (undescribed) but because of his perception that God is silent. The silence of God ("I cry by day, but you do not answer") is one of the biggest theological problems that any pastor will ever face. 'Why is God seemingly so unconcerned and silent when I go through such deep valleys of anguish?' That is how the Psalmist starts his ruminations; it doesn't take him half a Psalm to get there. In that regard, Ps. 22 is a Psalm for our day, for it begins right in the middle of life without sugar-coating it or trying to be anything other than honest with its anguish. 'You are silent, O God.'

Then memory surges in vv. 3-5. What does memory teach? That the ancestors trusted God and God delivered them. Pure and simple. "To you they cried, and were saved" (v. 5). Of course, the ancestors' situation was a bit more nuanced than that, but that is the "bottom line." But we wonder for a moment whether the ancestors themselves would agree with this characterization. What if they also had wondered about the silence of God, but the only thing recorded about them was someone's memory that God helped them out of it? In any case, the past teaches the Psalmist that God delivers.

But that isn't enough. His situation, vv. 6-8, is seemingly worse than that of his forbears ("But I am a worm, and not human"). He feels a little like the animals whom he will later describe as surrounding him (12-18). He is just a worm (compare Is. 41:14). Now we are brought for the first time into some of the humiliation that he feels. "All who see me mock at me; they make mouths at me, they shake their heads" (v. 7). And, the worst part about it all is that he knows that the mockery is true; he knows that everything they say about him is right. He has committed his way to God, and now he looks ridiculous for so doing.

Memory returns however, like the calvary to rescue the stranded travelers. In 9-11 he recites God's acts of grace not toward the ancestors but toward himself. He is basically saying that he has no other option than to trust in God. There is no plan B. Since his mother bore him, "You have been my God" (v. 10). We don't like to get ourselves into this situation in life; we always have a backup, beginning with a cell phone that can call anywhere from anywhere, or a GPS device that can locate us wherever we are. But here there is not that option. The Psalmist has put all his chips on number 1. There just isn't anything else he can do. If God lets him down, he not only will be destroyed personally, and humiliated significantly, but the cause of God will, he believe, take a "hit."

But pain will win out in the first part of the Psalm as the Psalmist turns to the most poignant, heart-wrenching description imaginable (12-18). Just as Dante, in Canto 1 of the Inferno, speaks about three beasts that blocked his way as he tried to regain the good path of life, so the Psalmist speaks of three kinds of beasts who unleased their fury on him. Remember, he is just a worm, and when a bull or lion or dog comes after a worm, there just isn't any contest. He will be squashed just as certainly as mosquitoes are nourished in swampy conditions. It is interesting that the NT authors, who do pick up on this passage, pick up only on v. 17-18, and especially on the "dividing my clothes" passage. That is, the words of extreme physical suffering and anguish of vv. 12-16 aren't really referenced in the NT. But they are right before us now.

The enemies are all around. They are called "strong bulls of Bashan." The plain of Bashan was an area about 1500' above the Jordan and a few miles to the East. It was known for its rich fields and ideal conditions for raising bulls. When the prophet Amos wanted to criticize the people of Israel for their luxury, he called their women "cows of Bashan" (4:1)--well-fed, fat animals. They surround the Psalmist. Then the image changes, as if the bulls are slowly transmuted into lions. In our age of film animation, we can almost see the bulls becoming lions as we go from v. 12 to v. 13. And then the Psalmist's pain is coupled with humiliation as the "dogs" are all around him (v. 16). The presence of dogs is frequently mentioned in the OT as the final sign of humiliation--the dogs will lap up the blood of a dead person. The dogs surround the Psalmist because they are, like vultures, waiting for him to expire so they can eagerly drink his blood and eat his flesh. Humiliation has been his experience and humiliation looks like it will be his destiny.

At this point in the Psalm, then, it is pain that is winning. Hands down. No real contest. Memory tried to raise its head and lodge a protest, but the protest was weak indeed. With the onslaught of all kinds of terrifying realities in front of the Psalmist, not least of which is his physical discomfort, he is at the mercy of the pain in his life and the animals which are symbolized by that pain.

II. Calling For Deliverance (vv. 19-24)

The lectionary readings for today only take us, at most, to v. 24. By the time we get to v. 24 we have a Psalmist who still knows how to cry to God, but the tone of the Psalmist's cry has changed. Now there is a bit of confidence that has returned to his voice. It is as if he has given evil and anguish its full range to roam in his life in 12-18 and now he can truly let the sun of God's mercy and power shine in. "I will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you" (v. 22). That is, the Psalmist is practicing preemptive joy or preemptive praise. Deliverance has not yet occurred but he is anticipating it. In fact, he is anticipating it so strongly that the story of the deliverance can already be put in the past tense (v. 24).

Conclusion

So this is where we are left on Palm Sunday. The bulls of Bashan surround the suffering person. That suffering, and the bulls, are real. It is almost too much to bear. The Psalmist cries to God, a God who seems distant and deaf. He antipates deliverance and already announces it to the congregation, but it hasn't in fact yet happened. And when we see this deliverance next week, in the eyes of faith, it is a story for the ages.

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