Summer is almost here. But as I write this, it’s actually Easter morning. For the last few weeks, I’ve been working my way through Psalm 89, about which I’ve written previously. As I sat with my Psalms journal this morning, I pondered if there was anything to be learned from this psalm for our understanding of Easter.

And I believe there is.

As we’ve seen, the psalm opens with familiar words of praise. Many of us have sung the King James Version of verse 1 in church: “I will sing of the mercies of the Lord for ever: with my mouth will I make known thy faithfulness to all generations” (Ps 89:1).

Right off the bat, the words “forever” and “all generations” establish a theme that carries through the entire psalm. For 37 verses, well over half the composition, the psalm celebrates God’s promise to establish the reign of David and his descendants for all time. God himself declares that David’s throne will last as long as heaven itself: “I will establish his line forever, his throne as long as the heavens endure” (vs. 29).

But then comes verse 38. To the psalmist, it seems as if God has gone back on his promise. The king is being disgraced and taunted by his enemies. The psalmist even dares to suggest that instead of exalting the king’s strength as promised (vss. 24-25), God has exalted the strength of his enemies instead (vs. 42). The psalm remains open-ended at the end, with the king himself lamenting to God:

Remember, Lord, how your servant has been mocked,
    how I bear in my heart the taunts of all the nations,
the taunts with which your enemies, LORD, have mocked,
    with which they have mocked every step of your anointed one. (vss. 50-51)

Previously, I asked us to imagine the psalmist or the Davidic king being given the privilege of peering down the long corridor of history, all the way to the time of Jesus. Would they have rejoiced to see that day? Would they have recognized that God’s covenant promise to David was being fulfilled? Would it have made it possible for them to accept that God had not gone back on his word? Would it have made it easier for them to bear their own suffering?

I like to think so.

But here’s the thing. If watching the ministry of Jesus play out would have given them hope, I believe they still would have been scandalized by Holy Week, by the crucifixion and burial of the one who was supposed to be the Messiah, the anointed king. They would have joined in the roar of the crowds on Palm Sunday, and felt crushed on Good Friday and Holy Saturday…

…because they would have had no idea what would happen next.

Part of the desperation of Psalm 89 (and other psalms) is the perception that life is short and often chaotic and difficult. There is no glorious afterlife, only a shadowy realm called Sheol, the grave, the Pit. This comes out clearly in words that appear to be spoken by the king himself:

Remember how fleeting is my life.
    For what futility you have created all humanity!
Who can live and not see death,
    or who can escape the power of the grave? (vss. 47-48)

It’s a rhetorical question. Who can escape the power of the grave, of Sheol? The expected answer, the obvious answer, is Nobody.

But our answer, today, is Jesus.

Resurrection is the psalmist’s missing hope. Without it, death is the last word. If life seems short and brutish, then that’s all there is and lament is the only possibility. But Easter changes everything. Resurrection changes everything. Add to that the gift of the Holy Spirit, and our lives can radiate newness in anticipation of the eternal newness to come.

We know something that the psalmist didn’t know. We have a hope that the psalmist didn’t have.

Are we living in that hope?