119: Waw

The first Waw [ו] in the Torah (pronounced vav) begins its sixth Hebrew word, thus joining the words for “heaven” and “earth”. This is also the twenty-second letter of the Hebrew Bible (our Genesis 1:1), so scholars believe it represents all twenty-two individual powers of creation and all the letters of the alphabet together. (The Hebrew alphabet, as mentioned several times in this series, has only twenty-two letters.)

Literally, ו means “hook” or “peg”. Hebrew sages say the letterform portrays Jacob’s ladder, reaching down from heaven to earth. It’s a nice thought, but personally I think those sages may have waxed a little fanciful.

The History of Written Hebrew

The history of written Hebrew is complicated and much disputed. The earliest known examples of Paleo-Hebrew may postdate Jacob’s ladder vision by centuries, but this does not remotely imply the children of Israel relied exclusively on oral communication pre-Sinai. It just means we haven’t found any examples of written Paleo-Hebrew from that period, and absence of evidence is not evidence of absence. From a biblical perspective, Genesis 38 twice mentions Judah’s “signet”. Pray tell, for what possible purpose was Judah (Jacob’s son) carrying an identifiable signet if the written version of his language was not formalized, and if no documents existed that might need to be sealed with his seal?

Hello? I’m hearing crickets.

So then, biblically speaking at least, Hebrews, including Israelites descended from them, had some form of written language in Jacob’s time and, I suspect, long before. These were not unsophisticated rubes, however secular history may portray them. And if there existed a written language of the Hebrews in Judah’s time, then it’s highly unlikely any letterform in it derived from his father’s personal experiences with God.

Perhaps, then, the modern letterforms and the significance attached to them by scholars in Israel are more recent. In the end, nobody knows with certainty.

In any case, the very first line of Psalm 119’s Waw section beseeches heaven to reach to down to earth in love, just as modern writers about the Hebrew alphabet imply. Creation itself should teach us to anticipate precisely that.

Psalm 119:41-43 — Two Pleas

“Let your steadfast love come to me, O Lord, your salvation according to your promise; then shall I have an answer for him who taunts me, for I trust in your word. And take not the word of truth utterly out of my mouth, for my hope is in your rules.”

Steadfast Love

After going through nine requests last week and six the week before, the Waw portion of the psalm has only two, both in the first three verses. The first is a plea for steadfast love (ḥeseḏ, also translated “mercy”, “kindness” and “lovingkindness”).

What does the psalmist have in mind? Well, he is relentlessly practical, as befits a writer from a people for whom material blessing was a function of obedience to God, and for whom poverty and hard times signaled divine disfavor. The first use of ḥeseḏ in scripture comes from the mouth of Lot, who refers to his salvation from certain death in Sodom as an expression of the Lord’s steadfast love. Abraham asked Sarah to show him steadfast love by lying about their relationship, and Abraham’s servant associated steadfast love with help in completing his mission to find a wife for Isaac. He used the word again with reference to receiving the pledge of Rebekah’s hand in marriage. Joseph’s promotion in prison was a sign of steadfast love, as was his affection for his father, to which Jacob appealed when he pleaded with his son not to bury him in Egypt. All very practical, tangible stuff. “If you love me, prove it.” Our psalmist is not just asking the Lord to feel kindly disposed toward him but, more importantly, to demonstrate divine affection in ways that render their association indisputable in the world.

So then, the indeterminate “salvation” for which he pleads is probably something very visible and tangible, a proof to the enemy that God is with his servant, an “answer for him who taunts me”. This is very different from the way Christians normally use the word “salvation”. We should not try to read our personal spiritual experiences back into the Psalms. Likewise, we should not interpret the hard times we encounter in service for Christ as evidence of God’s disfavor, as a Jew would most reasonably have assumed. The Lord Jesus himself told followers of Christ to expect the same treatment from the world that our Master received.

Taking Out the Word of Truth

We run into these odd-sounding pleas all the time in Jewish literature. We read the request, “take not the word of truth utterly out of my mouth” and immediately assume, with our individualistic and hyper-logical Western mindset, that such an event is possible, or even probable, for Christians.

Let me suggest that what the psalmist is asking for here is really a continuation of his previous thought. As an Israelite under a legal covenant that rewarded good behavior and penalized disobedience (read the entirety of Leviticus 26 if you doubt this), it was hugely important to him to be proved to be in service to the God of Israel with tangible evidences of divine approval. Without these he was lost, and his testimony to the world effectively shot. The Christian is not: he may very well be suffering for “the sake of the name”, and have reason to enthuse in his misery. But the Jew understood suffering as evidence of rejection by his God. As a result, any failure of a good outcome for himself personally was a failure of testimony. He could not confidently preach to the world concerning the truth and value of the laws under which he lived if the result of obeying them was humiliation and debasement. That product would not sell well in a pre-first century spiritual market. It took our Lord himself to explain it.

It is against this eventuality that he pleads for vindication.

Psalm 119:44-45 — The First Pledge

“I will keep your law continually, forever and ever, and I shall walk in a wide place, for I have sought your precepts.”

We do not have a great many requests in the Waw section of Psalm 119. What we do have are pledges, promises and commitments. This is the first of three: “I will keep your law continually.”

“Continually” implies a refusal to back down. When the psalmist pleads with the Lord in the first three verses to vindicate his servant before the eyes of the world, he is not suggesting his righteous behavior will change if, for some inscrutable reason — like the case of Job and more than a few others — God doesn’t appear to immediately keep his end of the bargain. The words “forever and ever” confirm his commitment.

Nevertheless, the psalmist is confident that “I shall walk in a wide place”. He’s saying, “I expect to have plenty of room to maneuver. I will be at liberty. My hopes will not be dashed.” Paradoxically, accepting God’s restrictions on our behavior gives the believer far more genuinely pleasing options in life than the man who says with Lucifer, “I will ascend.” No, you won’t. You may find yourself in a place of prominence, power and control. You will never enjoy it.

Psalm 119:46-47 — The Second Pledge

“I will also speak of your testimonies before kings and shall not be put to shame, for I find my delight in your commandments, which I love.”

In my New Testament readings, I have just gone through the book of Acts. Nothing is more powerful than the manner of the apostle Paul in successive defenses before the people of Jerusalem, the Jewish council, Felix, Festus and Agrippa. There’s a lovely passage in the Felix defense where a Jewish lawyer named Tertullus panders, grovels and otherwise embarrasses himself trying to win the governor’s favor. In response, Paul breezily skips the nonsense and cheerfully makes his defense. Later, in front of the king, he challenges him to accept the gospel and blithely contradicts the accusations of Festus, notwithstanding his power, status and the potential consequences. Among the people of God, Paul feared humiliation. In front of the world, not at all.

When you delight in the commandments of God, he will not let you be put to public shame. He might let you perish for your words, but they will ring in the ears of your murderers.

Psalm 119:48 — The Third Pledge

“I will lift up my hands toward your commandments, which I love, and I will meditate on your statutes.”

We are a full forty verses into Psalm 119 before the psalmist mentions his love of God’s commandments. We get that twice here; the only section that mentions love for God’s word more is the second to last.

In Hebrew-speak, to lift up one’s hands is to praise and bless. It is not an idolatrous act to lift up your hands to something other than God himself provided that what you are blessing and extoling is itself God-given. In that case, praising it is praising him. The psalmist is not a hyper-legalist enthusing about clauses and sub-clauses of some obscure text, but rather a man who spends every moment publicly commending the faith he has embraced and the truths his God has revealed to him.

May we be known for our enthusiasm for the word we have believed and which has saved us.