Commentary - Psalm 88:3-9

Bird's-eye view

Psalm 88 is the blackest of all the psalms. While many psalms of lament begin in the depths and end on a note of hope or praise, this one begins in the dark, descends into deeper darkness, and ends with darkness as its closest friend. It is an unrelieved cry from the abyss. For this very reason, we must see it as preeminently Messianic. While a believer might feel these things in some measure, only one man in the history of the world has experienced this utter dereliction in its fullest sense. This is the cry of the Lord Jesus Christ from the cross. He is the one whose soul was truly saturated with calamities, who descended into the pit, who was cut off from the land of the living, and upon whom the full measure of God's wrath lay. The psalm is a raw, prophetic look into the heart of the Savior as He became sin for us. He endured this ultimate, hopeless abandonment so that we, His people, would never have to. This psalm ends with no hope so that the entire world might be filled with hope.

The passage before us (vv. 3-9) details the nature of this descent. The psalmist, speaking for Christ, describes a comprehensive alienation: from life itself, from strength, from the living, from God's memory, and from his friends. This is not a random series of misfortunes; the psalmist is clear that God Himself is the one who has put him in the pit. It is God's wrath that lies upon him like a crushing weight. This is the language of propitiation, the cry of the substitute who is bearing the curse that we deserved. In these verses, we are given a glimpse of the true cost of our salvation.

Outline

Context In Psalms

Psalm 88 is one of the psalms of the sons of Korah, and is attributed to Heman the Ezrahite, a man noted for his wisdom alongside Solomon (1 Kings 4:31). It is a lament, or an individual complaint, but it is unique in its unremitting gloom. Unlike Psalm 22, which begins with "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" but ends in triumphant praise, Psalm 88 offers no such resolution. It simply ends in darkness. This makes it a crucial part of the Psalter's witness. The psalms are given to us to teach us how to pray in every circumstance of life, and that includes the times of profound spiritual darkness where hope seems entirely lost. This psalm gives words to the believer in such a state, but more than that, it gives us the words of Christ in His ultimate suffering. It stands as a stark monument to the reality of God's wrath against sin and the horrific price Jesus paid to bear it for His people.

Key Issues

The Black Psalm

In a certain sense, all the psalms are Messianic; they all point to Jesus. But because this psalm is particularly dark, some might be tempted to think it is less applicable to Christ. The opposite is true. We must go the other way. This psalm is indeed profoundly dark, but we must consider the darkness that Jesus went through for us. There may be lesser applications for the believer in the throes of despair, wherever the Head has gone, the body is not far behind, but we must read this psalm as preeminently fulfilled in that moment when Christ was abandoned on Skull Hill for our sake. He drank this cup to the dregs. The Father turned His face away, and the Son entered a darkness that no mere man could ever fully comprehend. This psalm is His cry from that outer darkness, a darkness He entered so that we might be brought into everlasting light.

Verse by Verse Commentary

3 For my soul has been saturated with calamities, And my life has reached Sheol.

The psalmist begins his complaint by describing a soul that is "full" or "satiated" with troubles. This is not just a bad day; this is a life that has had its fill of misery. The cup of sorrow is full to the brim. The result is that his very life is drawing near to Sheol. Sheol, in the Old Testament, is the realm of the dead, the grave. It is a place of darkness and silence. For the speaker here, who is Christ, this is a description of His passion. His soul was "exceeding sorrowful, even unto death" (Matt 26:38). The accumulated weight of the sins of the world constituted a calamity that saturated His very being, bringing Him to the brink of the grave.

4 I am counted among those who go down to the pit; I am like a man without strength,

He is not just near death; in the eyes of all, he is as good as dead. He is reckoned, or accounted, among those who are already descending into the pit, another synonym for Sheol or the grave. The phrase "a man without strength" is striking. This is the omnipotent Son of God, the one who holds the universe together by the word of His power. Yet, in His passion, He was stripped of all strength. He was crucified in weakness (2 Cor 13:4). He emptied Himself, becoming utterly helpless, so that He might be the perfect sacrifice for our sin.

5 Released among the dead, Like the slain who lie in the grave, Whom You remember no more, And they are cut off from Your hand.

The sense of abandonment deepens. "Released among the dead" carries the idea of being set apart, abandoned, or forsaken. He is like the slain in battle, whose bodies are thrown into a common grave. The most terrifying part of this verse is the feeling of being forgotten by God. "Whom You remember no more." And being "cut off from Your hand" means to be removed from God's care, His protection, His sustaining power. Of course, the Father never truly forgot the Son. But in the moment of propitiation, Jesus experienced the full penalty of sin, which is to be forsaken by God. He felt the full weight of this divine forgetfulness so that we, the truly forgetful, might be remembered by God forever.

6 You have put me in the pit far below, In dark places, in the depths.

Here the psalmist makes the ultimate complaint, and it is crucial. This suffering is not an accident. It is not fate. It is not the result of the devil getting the upper hand. The psalmist says to God, "You have put me here." The Father is the one who put the Son in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths. This was the plan, determined before the foundation of the world (Acts 2:23). It was the will of the Lord to crush Him (Isa 53:10). Our salvation is not the result of Jesus rescuing us from a reluctant Father. It is the result of the Father and the Son, in perfect unity, accomplishing our redemption through the unspeakable agony of the cross. God put Him there, for us.

7 Your wrath lies upon me, And You afflict me with all Your breaking waves. Selah.

This is the central verse of the passage and one of the clearest descriptions of penal substitution in the entire Old Testament. The psalmist does not say "I feel wrath" but rather "Your wrath lies upon me." It is a crushing weight, a burden being pressed down. And not just some of it, but "all Your breaking waves." Imagine being held down at the bottom of the sea while the entire ocean, in a furious storm, rolls over you. This is the experience of Christ on the cross. The full, undiluted, holy wrath of God against all the sins of all His people for all time was poured out upon Him. He did not experience this as a mere "theological truth." He cried out in actual despair, and in that cry, He reconciled the world to God. The Selah invites us to pause and consider this staggering reality.

8 You have removed my acquaintances far from me; You have set me as an abomination to them; I am shut up and cannot go out.

Again, the agency is God's. "You have removed my acquaintances." The flight of the disciples from Gethsemane was not a mere failure of their courage; it was part of God's sovereign plan. Jesus was to be utterly alone. Not only were His friends removed, but He was made an "abomination to them." He was treated as something loathsome and detestable. Peter, who had sworn allegiance, ended up cursing and swearing that he never knew the man. This is the social dimension of the curse. He is "shut up," imprisoned in this suffering, with no way of escape. Jesus died friendless so that He might have friends forever.

9 My eye has wasted away because of affliction; I have called upon You every day, O Yahweh; I have spread out my hands to You.

The physical toll of this affliction is immense; his eye grows dim and wastes away from grief. Yet, in the midst of this all-consuming darkness, He continues to pray. This is the perfection of His faith. He calls upon Yahweh daily. He spreads out his hands, the posture of desperate, dependent prayer. Even when it feels as though God has utterly forsaken Him, even when the heavens are silent, He does not stop crying out to the "God of my salvation" (v. 1). What the Lord Jesus knew in the light, He held onto in the darkness. His faith did not waver, even as His soul was being torn apart. This is the faith of the great High Priest, exercised on our behalf.

Application

So what do we do with a psalm like this? First, we must see Christ in it. This is not primarily about your bad day. This is about His terrible day, the day He saved the world. We must look at the cross through the lens of this psalm and be staggered by the price of our forgiveness. The wrath of God is not a trifle. The abandonment Christ faced was not metaphorical. It was real, it was terrifying, and it was for you. This should produce in us a profound humility and a deep, abiding gratitude.

Second, because Christ has plumbed these depths, we know that He is a sympathetic high priest. If you find yourself in a season of spiritual darkness, where God feels a million miles away and your prayers seem to bounce off the ceiling, you have a Savior who has been there in a way you never will. This psalm gives you permission to be honest with God. It gives you words for your anguish. But it also points you to the one who endured the ultimate darkness alone. You are never truly alone. Even when you feel forsaken, you are united to the one who was truly forsaken in your place.

Finally, the hopelessness of this psalm is precisely what secures our hope. It ends in darkness so that our story does not have to. Jesus was swallowed by the grave so that the grave could be burst open from the inside. He went down to the pit, but He did not stay there. He was cut off from God's hand, but on the third day, that same hand raised Him in glory. Because He endured this, our darkest night will one day give way to an eternal morning. He took the despair; we get the deliverance.