Despairing Hope to Hopeful Despair

The Book of Psalms is an anthology of diverse prayers and praises of ancient Israel. They differ contextually, chronologically, and liturgically, yet they are stylistically arranged into five major blocks in the canon. This arrangement into five books corresponds the five books of the Torah. Though the Psalms do not contain a unified narrative like Torah, their arrangement can be “narrativized.”[1] Just as raindrops form a spring, which becomes flowing water, then a stream, a river, and finally reaches the sea,[2] the psalms, though individually distinct, when taken together in a grand sense, can communicate a story, a movement from hope to despair to hope again.

Interestingly, both Torah and Psalms with their five-books each have a contrasting pattern. The storyline in Torah is like a mountain-shaped structure, starting with creation and closing with anticipation to entering the Promised Land. Leviticus is the pinnacle of the theology and narrative of Torah surrounding the themes of Yahweh’s dwelling presence among his people with the Day of Atonement at its centre.[3] But, in contrast to the mountain-shaped narrative of Torah, the Book of Psalms form a valley-shaped structure, with the Book 3 being the darkest and deepest point. Here, despair reaches its depths, the enemies prevail, and God’s presence seems absent. From here the arc raises towards trust and hope, praises and celebration.

The Book of Psalms beautifully opens by contrasting the ways of the wicked and the way of the righteous who meditate, delight, and walk in the ways instructed by God. But soon the tension forms in Psalm 2. All the wicked nations team up against the righteous—Yahweh and his anointed. In Bruce Waltke’s words, “Psalm 2 escalates the wicked of Psalm 1 to whole nations and narrows the righteous individual to the Davidic king.”[4] The tension further escalates throughout the rest of the psalms, particularly in the Book 1. The Book 1 contains a majority of psalms attributed to David, seeking God’s refuge, pleading for deliverance from the wicked (3-14, 17, 22, etc.), and occasionally celebrating victory on behalf of the righteous (16, 18, 20, 21). It carries a tone of trust and forward-looking hope.

Book 2, however, begins with a nightmarish (and traumatic) sense of the distancing of God’s presence and God’s betrayal (42, 44, 51, 60, etc.), even while celebrations of God’s power and kingship are occasionally present (46–48). Though it looks ahead with longing, it ultimately closes with David’s prayer for the establishment of the kingdom. The trust of Book 1 is quite shaken; despair begins to overcome, though a flicker of hope still remains.

In Book 3, that little lamp of hope nearly flickers out. Light is scarce; everything is dark. The wicked enemies prevail, and God is silent, and even absent (73, 74), his favour is withdrawn (80, 83), and David is abandoned (88, 89). The howling of enemies resounds, and praise is almost silent. While David’s plea for the sign of God’s favour appears once (86), it is surrounded by the psalms of his intercessors (Asaph and the Sons of Korah) who cry out on his behalf, asking for God’s favour not only on him but also on the entire people. Yet even here, there is a faint glimmer—anticipation for the judgment of enemies (73, 82), and nostalgic memories of the temple (84). Still, despair prevails.

At this point, Moses enters the scene in Book 4. He acknowledges God as the true home and pleads for mercy, recognising that brief human life seems spent entirely under God’s anger. “Establish our works, O Lord…” becomes the cry (90). Hope begins to rekindle (91). Confession and trust return. Hope in Yahweh as the cosmic King rises to prominence (93–96). Praise returns to David’s lips; his soul sings in response to Moses’ plea—blessing the God who delivered him from the pit and renewed his life, showing favour like a father who has compassion on his children (103).

Book 5 opens with a renewed sense of God’s favour in the darkest times (107). “The Lord has done great things” (118, 126). The gift of Torah is celebrated even in the presence of enemies (119). Pilgrims begin to ascend from distant lands, surrounded by enemies waiting to trap (120), then journeying through hills and valleys of praises and tears (121-126), until at last their feet stand in the holy sanctuary (134). Though laments reappear (137, 139-142), praise rises stronger (135, 136, 138, 146-150). The Psalter does not end with naive triumphalism, but with resilient trust—a trust that endures, even in the shadow of a wounded past and persistent despair.

Between these mountains and valleys, the Psalms reflect the life of the righteous. Psalm 15 asks, “Who shall ascend the mountain of the Lord?” reflecting Torah’s upward movement towards holiness. Psalm 122 celebrates ascending into the Yahweh’s sanctuary. On the other hand, Psalm 23 confesses, “Even though

I walk through the darkest valley, I fear no evil; for you are with me….” Psalm 139 brings both of these experiences together: “If I ascend to heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths (Sheol), you are there… your right hand will hold me.”

The Book of Psalms is a journey of trust and hope of the righteous who delight in the ways of the Lord. But this hope is not a fantasy, the trust is not otherworldly. It is shaped in the furnace of despair, formed in the deepest valleys, but sustained by the abiding presence of God who holds their hand and leads them toward the ascent.

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[1] Narrativizing refers to tailoring a story “from or on the basis of things that are not, in and of themselves, narratives but something else altogether: unconnected fragments, random observations, data points of one sort or another… [and] taking those odds and ends and then stringing them together in some fashion so as to construct a story.” In relation to the Book of Psalms, narrativization means to develop a narrative using the collection of psalms, which are basically non-narrative texts in themselves. See Brent A. Strawn, “Too Tall a Tale, Or: Do the Psalms Really Tell ‘Stories’?,” Word & World 43, no. 4 (Fall 2023): 322.

[2] The metaphor of raindrops to rivers in relation to collection of the Book of Psalms is borrowed from Bruce K. Waltke’s video lecture on the Psalms in BiblicalTraining. Bruce K. Waltke, Lesson 27: Editorial Approach, Video Lecture, Psalms, accessed May 5, 2025, https://www.biblicaltraining.org/learn/institute/ot561-psalms/ot561-27-editorial-approch.

[3] Michael Morales beautifully narrates how both the Book of Leviticus and the Day of Atonement serve as the theological and literary centre of Torah, and how these form like a summit. See L. Michael Morales, Who Shall Ascend the Mountain of the Lord?: A Biblical Theology of the Book of Leviticus (Downers Grove, Illinois: Apollos, 2015).

[4] Bruce K. Waltke, An Old Testament Theology (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 2011), 885.