IN THE O.T ., the long and complex story of a nation formed by and interacting with God covers every possible range of human existence and activity. Much can be discovered about a person, or a people, through engaging with their music and poetry, each piece a snapshot in time. The Psalms of Israel open up to us a view into every aspect of the very human emotions of life in general, life specific to ordinary struggles, and life caught in the tensions between the rise and fall of cultural values and mores in tension with a holy God.

Psalm 44 is a psalm about the Sons of Korah, whose history begins with the fall from grace of their progenitor during the time of Moses (cf. Num. 16:18-35), but whom are tortuously restored to favor by the time of David. They become leading poets and singers in David’s courts, and this psalm reflects a deep contemplation of the journey of ignominy to restoration of their tribe. It is set in the backdrop of the waning favor of God as exile and bondage have become Israel’s lot.

It starts with this plaintive and brooding deliberation. “We have heard it with our ears, O God; our ancestors have told us what you did in their days, in days long ago.” (Psa. 44:1) What follows then is a tale of God’s past favor, as Israel journeyed through the desert times under Moses, and then entered the Promised Land under Joshua. “It was not by their sword that they won the land; it was your right hand, your arm, and the light of your face, for you loved them.” (Psa. 44:3) This moves to a litany of praise for God, reaching its highest point with “In God we make our boast all day long, and we will praise your name forever.” (Psa. 44:8)

But a downward turn quickly ensues, and we recognize that this poem is not merely describing a moment in time, but a relationship successively and more deeply broken over time. “But now you have rejected and humbled us; You gave us up to be devoured like sheep and have scattered us among the nations.” (Psa. 44:9-12) A millennium of the nation’s history, rising and falling in favor of and rejection by God, has been partially told in a few swift verses. We are stunned by the scale of the events, and the heights and depths of emotional truth in which they are told. And we cannot help just sympathize, but also empathize, with the writer’s desolate inner convictions of guilt, longing, and sense of hopelessness. He is expressing thoughts we have lived. “I live in disgrace all day long, and my face is covered with shame.” (Psa. 44:15)

The poem becomes darker as the inner journey of the Psalmist becomes even more introspective. “All this came upon us, though we had not forgotten you; we had not been false to your covenant. Our hearts had not turned back. But you crushed us; you covered us over with deep darkness.” (Psa. 44:17-19) As with so many dealing with a powerful depression, his thoughts take on a tone of bitterness, welling up from a wound at the center of the soul become gangrenous. “If we had forgotten the name of our God would not God have discovered it, since he knows the secrets of the heart?” (Psa. 44:21) This quickly builds into rationalization and self-justification, though leavened with a true righteousness. “Yet for your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.” (Psa. 44:22)

We want the happy ending. The pain is too palpable, like that of a swollen and pulsating toe in the aftermath of a barefoot encounter with a heavy fallen object. But it does not—instead, it ends with a helpless plea laced with accusation, and with no relief. “Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression? Rise up and help us; rescue us because of your unfailing love.” (Psa. 44:23-26) But God is silent.

When unrepentant sin infects an entire culture, God eventually disciplines with a heavy hand. “All this took place because the Israelites had sinned against the Lord their God, who had brought them up out of Egypt from under the power of Pharaoh king of Egypt. They worshiped other gods and followed the practices of the nations.” (2 Kings 17:7-8) This is Israel’s story, and it is also our story. Sin has consequences in all lives. It also rumbles intermittently through our own life and through our own tribe. “I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me.” (Deut. 5:9)

It is our story personally, in our families, and in our nation. The way to exercise integrity and find emotional and spiritual stability for the person of faith during times of judgment is a very difficult and complex task if we make more out of it than we should. The Psalmist is caught up in all of the human emotions that surface when the trial is greater than faith. Job, not fully righteous, not without questions, at least had this firmly set value during his troubles: “Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him.” (Job 13:15)

Christ-followers live under a different covenant than the Psalmist. But our times are equally as difficult; we see our place in the rise and fall of nations, we understand that some of the greater consequences we live with are not of our own making. But there is now this hope—we have the same God, but now he has considered our weaknesses and bondage, and sent us a redeemer in Jesus. God has answered! Paul pens these thoughts, which we cling to as affirmation in difficult times: “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” (Phil. 4:12-13)

Faith can be complicated, or it can be simple. It’s usually both.

Q. Is my soul discontent, and if so, what must I let go of?