NOTES for Psa 102

The Lord’s mercy surpasses everything we could imagine, and for us this is not merely very difficult but impossible when we follow human notions of justice. But His ways are not our ways, and although mercy and truth all too often diverge on earth, in the Lord they abide in unity. A unity of qualities that, according to ordinary logic, contradict one another is usually called antinomic, but one does not wish to call the Lord’s unity of mercy and justice by that name. It is precisely because He sees what we are and what can be expected of us that He is patient with us, without, however, lowering His demands upon us.

Therefore, the reminder of His righteousness, which abides upon those who keep His covenant, is not superfluous. By following Him, we receive the possibility of rising at least to some degree above everyday logic and sharing in the righteousness that proceeds from Him and unites mercy with justice.

Upon an attentive reading of the books of the Bible, it is easy to be persuaded that if the Bible says to us something about God's nature, then it is very little (maybe, because God generally has no "nature" in a usual understanding for us). And here is, it is spoken to us constantly about God's will. But His will is not only the commandments given by Him, but also as well His relation, whether it is a relation to a particular person or to a whole nation. And quite often by "God's nature", of which as it seems to us, tells us the Bible, we understand the biblical mentions of God's relationship to us and towards our acts.

And when the Bible tells us that God is full of mercifulness and indulgence (He, as transmits it the translation of the King James Version, "is merciful and gracious"), that He manifests patience and mercy ("slow to anger and plenteous in mercy", according to the same translation of the King James Version), it is surely about what we could have called God's "nature", His properties, with which we collide every time, when we address Him. Why God is not only merciful, but is also indulgent to our sins? Can such an indulgence bring to man a spiritual profit? Maybe, a lot explains this mercy, about which speaks the hymnography.

The Jewish corresponding word means above all, the will to do to man more than what requires the law or the contract (if it is about relationships between people), or more than what a person deserves (if it is about relationships between man and God). Particularly such are God's relationship towards man, and, as had already witnessed Hosea, it is only in it the hope of man for justification on the Judgment Day: because the people violated repeatedly the Torah, and on this day nobody can count on anything according to the law.

But even before the day of Judgment the situation is not so simple: because the committed sins (more exactly, their consequences) weigh on the people, and, if the disasters had not arrive yet (and the psalm, most probably, was written again before the Babylonian captivity), then it is only because God manifests His mercy not only the day of the judgment, but also throughout the history of His people. And it can seem to us indulgence or even condoned. Although, in fact, it is not about the condonation, but about salvation: indeed, if God is not full of mercy, it is difficult to imagine, how He would have been able to push the people until the coming of the Messiah.

With attentive reading of the biblical books, it is not hard to become convinced that the Bible says very little to us, if anything, about God's nature, perhaps because God has no "nature" at all in the sense familiar to us. But it speaks to us constantly about God's will. Yet His will is not only the commandments He gave; it is also His attitude, whether toward an individual person or toward an entire people. And often by the "nature of God," about which it seems to us the Bible speaks, we mean biblical references to God's attitude toward us and toward our actions. When the Bible tells us that God is full of generosity and condescension, that He is, as the Synodal translation renders it, "gracious and merciful," and that He shows long-suffering and mercy, "long-suffering and abundant in mercy" according to the same translation, the issue is undoubtedly what we might call God's "nature," His properties, which we encounter every time we turn to Him. Why then does God turn out to be not only generous but also condescending toward our sins? Can such condescension bring a person spiritual benefit? Perhaps much is explained by the mercy of which the hymnographer speaks. The corresponding Hebrew word means above all readiness to do for a person more than the law or covenant obliges, if the issue is relationships between people, or more than a person deserves, if the issue is the relationship between a person and God. This is how God's relationship to the human person turns out to be, and, as Hosea already testified, only in this is a person's hope for justification on the day of Judgment: the people violated the Torah repeatedly, and according to the law no one can count on anything on that day. But even before the day of Judgment the situation is not so simple: committed sins, or more precisely their consequences, hang over the people, and if catastrophe has not yet happened, and the psalm was most plausibly written before the Babylonian captivity, it is only because God shows His mercy not only on the day of Judgment but throughout the history of His people. To us this can seem like condescension or even indulgence. In reality, however, the issue is not indulgence but salvation: if God were not filled with mercy, it is hard to imagine how the people could have lasted until the coming of the Messiah.

Tradition in the yahvisme always played a special role. Of course, tradition is important for any religion: because without it, no succession of generations is possible. But the relation to tradition can be different. It happens often that tradition is reduced to certain set of texts and rituals, which repeat again and again, becoming the basis of the religious life of the community. These texts and rituals are never meaningless, in any case meaningless at the beginning; but it often turns out that in time in the process of infinite repetition the initial sense not only of the ritual, but also of the text is forgot and goes to the past, and to its replacement comes another, new, sometimes little connected with the initial.

Nothing can be practically done with it: as every thing in the process of its use wears out, also as wears out the ritual, and as the used material loses its initial aspect, so also the used ritual loses its initial sense, which is forgotten, going to the past. And even if a certain historian manages to discover this initial sense, he cannot already change any more the situation: the ritual lives its life, it is impossible to make it return again in its initial sense, quite as it is impossible to return the novelty in the material worn out with time. That is why the author of the psalm proposes another way: every generation has to raise its praise to God, find Him again for themselves and establish with Him alive and real relationships for themselves.

Past experience in such case is necessary not to simply repeat again and again the words of others, even if they are very expressive, or the thoughts of others, even if they are very deep. It is necessary, as example, as model of these relations, which are impossible to repeat, but which can be established again here and now. The spiritual life indeed consists of relations, which can be the heritage neither of the past, nor of the future: any relationship, whether it is the relationship with God or with man, is possible only in the present. Focus on old forms - means imitating what is not. To take advantage of them - means understanding, how were built the relationships with God before, and considering the past experience, do it today. As the genuine tradition assumes.