Restore us, God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved.
You have transplanted a vine from Egypt; you drove out the nations and planted it. You cleared the ground for it, and it took root and filled the land. The mountains were covered with its shade, the mighty cedars with its branches. Its branches reached as far as the Sea, its shoots as far as the River.
Why have you broken down its walls so that all who pass by pick its grapes? Boars from the forest ravage it, and insects from the fields feed on it.
Return to us, God Almighty! Look down from heaven and see! Watch over this vine, the root your right hand has planted, the son you have raised up for yourself.
For the last couple years, my family has tried to grow a vegetable garden. At the beginning of the season we prepare the soil, adding the proper nutrients. We plant what we believe to be hardy seedlings and plants that are ready to go in the ground… But then we fail to water appropriately, or we fail to weed intentionally. We struggle to remember to cultivate the garden and turn the soil as required. And so, eventually, things either die or they aren't healthy enough to flower and produce fruit.
The next year we try again, and, not having learned from our first attempt, we fail again. As much as we might like them to be, our thumbs just aren't green.
This section of Psalm 80 takes the picture of a gardener and applies it to God in this rich and heart wrenching song of prayer.
Most scholars agree that Psalm 80 was written sometime in the 8th century, precipitated by the fall of the Northern Kingdom to the Assyrians (c. 722BC). Verse 2 mentions the tribal regions of Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasseh – all of which are in northern Israel and fell to the Assyrians. As well, the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Hebrew Bible from the 3rd century BC) says in the superscription: “Concerning the Assyrian” One commentator summarizes the situation visually: “You can almost imagine the psalmist perched at the northern edge of Judah, looking out at smoke rising in the distance over the lands of Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasseh.”[1]
What follows in Psalm 80 is a beautifully painful and poetic prayer. The plaintive cry at the beginning of each section, which is repeated three times throughout the song, is a callback to the Aaronic blessing of numbers 6: “Restore us, God Almighty; make your face shine on us, that we may be saved.” (vs. 7, 3 & 19). Restore us to the promise of your blessing. Restore us to the promise of your presence. Restore us to your nearness.
What follows is a beautifully rich metaphor for the history of God's people. But the telling of history isn't as from a third person narrative story. Rather, the telling of history is from the perspective of God's action: “You transplanted… You drove out… You planted… You cleared the ground…” For the history of Israel and Judah, God is the principal character. God is the gardener – the cultivator and curator of history. He transplanted a vine from Egypt. He cleared the ground for them to be planted. And so, God is the cause of their taking root and filling the land. He too is the cause of the vine growing so large that its shade covers a mountain; this vine is larger even than the cedars (famous throughout the region for their height and strength); at its peak in the reigns of David and Solomon the vine stretched from the Mediterranean Sea all the way to the Euphrates River (vs. 11).
This song of prayer is recalling the blessing of God and asking for it to be restored in the face of the Assyrian challenge. Continuing the image of the cultivated and manicured garden, the Psalmist asks, “Why have you broken down its walls so that all who passed by pick its grapes?” (vs. 12) The area is being plundered: boars are eating it; insects are feeding on it (vs. 13). The destruction is a sharp contrast from the beauty and the promise. And so the prayer of “Return to us, God Almighty!” (vs. 14) – slightly, but significantly, different from the thrice repeated refrain in verses 3, 7, and 19. The psalmist recognizes the true condition: the people have squandered the promise and moved away from God. God needs to return to them because they turned from him.
The pain so beautifully expressed in this prayer is theologically rich for our personal introspection: the God who is active in the blessing history of Israel is still active in the breaking of her wandering hearts. “Why have you broken down its wall…?” (vs. 12) God broke the ease of the garden in order to reveal the pride of his people. When dealing with his people God always uses hardship and punishment as a restorative act.
Isaiah 10 is another beautiful summary of exactly this reality – this time regarding Assyria. God speaks through Isaiah saying Assyria is the rod of God’s anger; God sends him, God dispatches him, even though Assyria believes it acts of his own power. God asks, “Does the ax raise itself above the person who swings it, or the saw boast against the one who uses it?” (Isaiah 10:15) Turning to Israel God tells his people, “In that day the remnant of Israel, the survivors of Jacob, will no longer rely on him who struck them down (viz. Assyria) but will truly rely on the Lord, the Holy One of Israel.” (Isaiah 10:20) God brings the punishment in order to shape his people more completely as he would have us – relying on him in all circumstances and for all things.
There is one final layer to the beauty of Psalm 80:7-15 – coming to us in the words of vs. 15, “Watch over this vine, the root your right hand has planted, the son you have raised up for yourself.” Less than a millennium after this prayer is offered, Jesus would say of himself, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” (John 15:1) Jesus is the son raised up from death – the son who was both obedient where Israel failed and who bore the punishment for our disobedience. Jesus did what Israel couldn’t and what we can’t – he did it and so God raised him up, from death and to the highest place. This is the truth that we take into our sufferings and trials now. Like the author of the Letter to the Hebrews writes, “God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.” (Hebrews 12:10-11)
I may not have a green thumb, but I am eternally grateful to the Master Gardner, our Father in heaven, and to the Son, the True Vine, who connects me to him. Just like any branch, I need pruning – but pruning by God bears fruit that will last (cf. John 15).
Prayer
Dearest God, gardener of history, thank you for Jesus – the True Vine. Thank you for connecting me to him. Use all my trials and sufferings as discipline to draw me closer to you and to draw out of me a harvest of righteousness. In Jesus’ name, Amen!
[1] Platt, et al, Exalting Jesus in Psalms 51-100, 269.