Psalm 77

Introduction

Psalm 77 Study

Welcome to Torah Today Ministries and our continuing series Tehillim Talks, our studies in the Psalms. And in this episode, we’ll be looking at Psalm 77, which is the fifth psalm by Asaph (אָסָף) in a series of 11 that he composed. And this psalm was really — I don’t like to use the word fun because it’s a pretty bleak psalm, but when you get to the last verse of the psalm, then you realize, oh, this is what the psalm is all about. Now, don’t look at the last verse yet. If you haven’t read the psalm, let’s keep that as a surprise for now. But this psalm, as I said, is kind of bleak. It’s like God is a million miles away and no matter what Asaph does, he just can’t connect with God. I guess we’ve all had times like that, haven’t we?

Well, let’s just get right into it and see what this psalm is all about.

The superscription is to the choirmaster according to Jeduthun (יְדוּתוּן), which is believed to be a particular kind of instrument or possibly a melody or possibly both. It’s a psalm of Asaph.

Psalm 77:1–3

And here’s how it begins. The first three verses.

I cry aloud to Elohim (אֱלֹהִים). Aloud to Elohim, and he will hear me. In the day of my distress, I seek my Adon (אָדוֹן), my master. In the night, my hand melted away without ceasing. My soul refuses to be comforted. When I remember Elohim, I moan. When I meditate, my spirit faints. — Psalm 77:1–3

Now, one of the things you’ll notice in the print of this, I’ve put Elohim in red. I’ve put Adon in red. And I’ve taken all the different terms that Asaph uses to apply to God, to address God. I’ve put those in red. And nowhere in this psalm does God’s four-letter name spelled Yud-He-Vav-He (יהוה) appear.

Now the name Yah (יָהּ) appears once, but we see El (אֵל) and Elohim (אֱלֹהִים) and Elyon (עֶלְיוֹן) — the God Most High, the God who’s out of reach. And so the terms used to address God are terms that describe God as being rather distant. YHVH (יהוה) on the other hand is his name that expresses grace and mercy and tenderness and closeness and intimacy. And again, that word is not used. That name is not used in this psalm. So I’ve put them in red just so you can see them a little more clearly.

But notice how it starts. I cry aloud to Elohim. Aloud to Elohim. When it repeats like this, it’s almost like he’s saying aloud to Elohim, aloud to Elohim — I’m crying out over and over and over, he’s repeating, I’m crying out but there’s no response.

And the next verse, verse 2, is one you’ll notice I have a vertical red line because the translation is very difficult here. I finally settled on this one. I forget who I saw using this particular rendering but I think it fits the verse best.

 In the day of my stress I seek my master. In the night, my hand melted away.

 Some translations say my eyes welled up with tears or my sore, my wound oozed, but it really says that my hand oozed. My hand produced water. It doesn’t make sense that way. But I think the picture that Asaph is painting is this. I’m reaching my hand up to God and it’s just air. I’m reaching up to take hold of him and there’s nothing and my hand just kind of melts away as if I don’t even have hands. Imagine trying to reach for something when you have no arms and hands with which to reach it and grasp it. I think that’s how Asaph is describing his situation here. I reached up to God with my hand. My hand just kind of melted away. It was just air. There was just nothingness. My soul refuses to be comforted.

When I remember Elohim — I put “remember” in green because this word is used four times in the psalm. And I thought it’s worth noting. In many of the psalms, there’ll be a particular word that’s repeated over and over that becomes the theme of the psalm. And I think that this word “remember” is the theme of this psalm.

When I remember Elohim, I moan. It’s like he’s thinking back to when God felt close, when God manifested closely and he knew his prayers were being heard and he experienced God’s blessing, but he longs for those days. He remembers them, but he’s not experiencing them at present. When I meditate, my spirit faints. Usually meditation is a way your spirit gets fed and energized and intimacy with God is experienced in a very deep and abiding way. But here he says, “I meditate. I just wear myself out. My spirit faints. It’s like there’s nothing coming back again.” As I said, it’s kind of a bleak psalm until we get to the end.

Psalm 77:4–9

Then verses 4–9.

You hold my eyelids open. I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, “Let me remember my neginah (נְגִינָה) in the night. Let me meditate in my heart.” Then my spirit made a diligent search. Will the master spurn forever and never again be pleased? Has his chesed (חֶסֶד), his loving kindness, forever ceased? Are his promises at an end for all generations? Has El (אֵל) forgotten to be chanun (חַנּוּן), gracious? Has he in anger shut up his rachum (רַחוּם), his mercy? — Psalm 77:4–9

“You hold my eyelids open.” In other words, I can’t sleep. Have you ever had that experience when you go to bed, you close your eyes, but it’s like you can see through your eyelids. It’s like — when I have too much caffeine. That’s been my experience. I think I need to close my eyes. I realize they are closed, but it’s like I can still see. But he says, “You hold my eyelids open. I can’t get any rest. I can’t get any sleep.”

“I am so troubled that I cannot speak. I consider the days of old, the years long ago. I said, ‘Let me remember my neginah.’” This is where we get the word nigun (נִגּוּן) — a wordless melody. Now, there are different words for songs in the scriptures. And in Hebrew, usually the song rinah (רִנָּה) is a song of praise and of joy. It’s a happy sounding song. But a neginah tends to be a little bit more reflective and sometimes in a minor key and kind of dark and just kind of expresses the groaning of the heart. And it’s where we get our word nigun — a wordless melody.

So, “Let me remember my song, my neginah, in the night. Let me meditate in my heart.” Let me at least meditate. He’s begging. “Then my spirit made a diligent search.”

And now in the next three verses he asks three pairs of questions. These are very worthwhile to study, to dig down and analyze — these three pairs of questions.

“Will the master spurn forever and never again be pleased?” “Has his chesed, his loving kindness, forever ceased?” “Are his promises at an end for all generations?” “Has El forgotten to be chanun, gracious?” “Has he in anger shut up his rachum, his mercy?”

So the things that he used to experience — God’s pleasure, his loving kindness, his promises, his graciousness, his mercy — it’s like these things are not my experience anymore. And yet, these are things that God is described as always having in abundance and lavishing upon his followers and his children. And yet these very basic attributes of God are not present. Asaph is saying these are things I experienced in my life for all my years and now it’s like they’re not there.

And so he’s asking questions. Will the master spurn forever? How long is this going to go on and never again be pleased? I’m doing everything I know to do to do right, but it’s like he’s dissatisfied with me. Has his chesed, his loving kindness, forever ceased? Is it over? Is it done with? Is it never coming back? Are his promises at an end for all generations? Because God has made promises of what he will do for us, but I’m not experiencing those things happening now. Have his promises come to an end? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Is he no longer chanun, no longer gracious to me? Is he so angry with me that he shut up his mercy?

You could see how depressed Asaph is at this.

Psalm 77:10–12

And then we go on.

Then I said, I will appeal to the years of the right hand of the Most High, of Elyon (עֶלְיוֹן). I will remember the deeds of Yah (יָהּ). I will remember your wonders of old. I will ponder all your work and meditate on your mighty deeds. — Psalm 77:10–12

In other words, God’s out of reach — he’s the Most High — but I’m going to try to appeal to him and get him to come down. I will remember the deeds of Yah — I put Adonai here as a translation, but it’s Yah (יָהּ), just the first two letters of God’s name. When I will remember your wonders of old, I will go back now. Look at the things you’ve done.

Now, here’s something to think about. You know, we only experience the present. That’s all we experience. We can never experience anything else than the present. That’s all we have. So, we experience now. We live now. The enemy wants to get us to live in the past or in the future, but you can’t do that. You have to live in the now. But we can remember the past. So the past has some reality to it because we can remember it and the past is what has helped shape us. But the future — how do we handle the future? There’s only one way and that’s faith. We have to have faith in God’s promises, in God’s character, in God’s determination to make things right. We have to have faith in the fact that God runs the world. So the outcome is determined and it’s going to be good. But we don’t experience it yet. We can only experience the now.

And faith is a tough thing. It’s a really difficult thing to describe and it gets tested. It always gets tested. In fact, according to Peter and his epistle, faith isn’t faith until it gets tested and approved.

You know, as I was contemplating the psalm, I remembered one of my visits to the Grand Canyon. And I think of all the things I’ve seen with my eyes, there is nothing in this world that has made a deeper impression upon me visually than the Grand Canyon itself. And when I was at the visitors center, I came across a story there. I think it might have been in a film, some presentation about the first explorers to actually go down the Colorado River. And this is in the early 1800s, mid 1800s sometime. And they went down in wooden boats, which doesn’t work very well. But there’s a large group of men and several boats and they have all their supplies. They don’t know how long this expedition is going to take because they’ve never mapped the Colorado River. Nobody’s ever gone down it before. So, they’re going down and it was tough. Boats got broken up, supplies lost. I don’t know if some of the men died. I don’t recall that. But it was brutal. Absolutely brutal. And they were going for days and days. And every day was just, is this going to be my last?

And after days of going down the Colorado River, just getting beat up and nothing but just danger and close calls — they go over to the shore to spend the night and in the morning, two of the men decide, “Captain, we just can’t go on. We just can’t do this anymore. So, we’re going to ask your permission just to let us go. Let us climb out of here. We’ll find a way out. We wish you well, but we’re going to ask to be excused.”

And after some contemplation and discussion, they all agreed to let these two guys go. So, they gave him some food and a few supplies, and off the two men went. The rest of the expedition got in the boat, headed down the river, and in 15 minutes they were out. They had reached the end. 15 minutes later, they tried to go back a ways. They fired guns in the air to get the attention of these two men, to try to signal to them that everything’s good. Come back. But those two men were never seen or heard from ever again. Nobody knows — well, they obviously died, but nobody’s ever found the bodies.

But they lost their faith 15 minutes before they could have rejoiced in a victorious and successful expedition.

That story has really stuck with me because I think the enemy can tell when we’re getting close to the end of a trial and that’s when he really pours on. He really pours on to cast doubt and tries to convince us to give up. So when that happens to you, just take that as a sign that I must be close to the end because the enemy is piling on right now. And you kind of hit that wall, but you go through it. Whatever you have to go through, go through it until you’re through with it. Go to the end. Don’t stop. There’s no way of escape out of this. There just isn’t. You have to go through the things you have to go through. And then when you have, you’ve learned endurance and you’ll be so glad you did. So let’s not fail in our faith. And Asaph is right at that point where it’s like — it’d be so easy to quit right now. But it goes on. So let’s see what happens.

So in verse 12, “I will ponder all your work and meditate on your mighty deeds.” Now, if you do that, if you go back and look at God’s track record, you’ll find accounts of other people who have been through what you’re going through, and you’ll see that as they stay faithful, God always brings a positive outcome. It always comes out great. But you also read accounts of people who gave up too early and then the shame and the failure that they experienced. So, contemplate God’s track record. Look to the past and use that in the present to strengthen your faith for the future.

Psalm 77:13–15

Your way, Elohim, is holy. What god is great as Elohim? You are the El who has made known your might among the peoples. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph. — Psalm 77:13–15

“Your way Elohim is holy. What god is great as Elohim?” Now it could be “what god” or “what power.” Let me share something with you about the Hebrew. The word that’s used here is the word El (אֵל). Just aleph-lamed (אל). There it is — El. When you see El by itself, you don’t know how exactly to translate it. At its bottom it means “power.” And so God is sometimes called El because he is the all-powerful. But foreign gods, pagan gods are called Els as well. Angels are sometimes referred to as Els. Human judges who sit in a place of judgment in a court are called Els. So the plural of El is Elohim (אֱלֹהִים) and that word is used in the same way. You must always look at the context. The ultimate power is El or Elohim because all power resides with him. But angels, human judges, and then pagans call their gods Elohim as well. They called them powers. Though they have no power. So we have to look at the context here. And we honestly don’t know what Asaph had in mind. Was he referring to God as God or was he asking, “What power is great as Elohim?” Now here we know he’s referring to God. But right here it’s a question — the jury is out on that one — is he referring to God himself or just asking what kind of power is like you, Elohim?

Anyway, as we move on, “You are the El who has made known your might among the peoples. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph.”

And now that is a question right there — the children of Jacob and Joseph. Joseph was the head of — well, two tribes. His two sons, Ephraim (אֶפְרַיִם) and Manasseh (מְנַשֶּׁה), became heads of tribes. But Jacob is the father of all 12 tribes. Joseph just of two. So why is he referring to “your people, God, the children of Jacob and of Joseph,” when Joseph was just one of Jacob’s sons?

Well, that question is asked in the Talmud. And it’s an interesting passage. Let me read it to you. It’s in Sanhedrin 19b and they’re commenting on this verse and Rabbi Elazar (אֶלְעָזָר) asked this question. “Now did Joseph father the 12 sons from whom the people of Israel are descended? Why, Jacob fathered them — not Joseph.” Rather, the verse means — this verse in Psalm 77 — the verse means that although Jacob bore them, Joseph sustained them in Egypt during the famine. Therefore, they are identified as Joseph’s children. So, Jacob was the physical father, the sire of these 12 sons, these 12 tribes. But they would have died and been wiped out if not for Joseph. Joseph is the one who sustained them in Egypt during this worldwide famine. And so they say they are also considered to be Joseph’s sons.

The Koren publishers do a beautiful volume of the Psalms with some comments at the bottom — it’s like a meditation at the bottom — and they had this to say about this verse: “Just as a person who raises an orphan child as his own is judged to be that child’s parent, so did Joseph merit having all of his brothers reckoned as his children.” It’s like he adopted these orphans. These people would have starved to death. And so they’re also considered to be Joseph’s children. It’s a beautiful, beautiful picture.

Psalm 77:16–20

Well, now we get to the end of the psalm, verses 16–20. And then we find out what Asaph is discussing, what he’s describing here.

When the waters saw you, oh Elohim, when the waters saw you, they were afraid. Indeed, the deep trembled. The clouds poured out water. The skies gave forth thunder. Your arrows flashed on every side. The crash of your thunder was in the whirlwind. Your lightnings lighted up the world. The earth trembled and shook. Your way was through the sea. Your path through the great waters. Yet your footprints were unseen. You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron. — Psalm 77:16–20

“Your arrows flashed on every side” — these arrows are like lightning bolts.

“Yet your footprints were unseen.” I love that phrase. He was there doing powerful things, but you couldn’t see them. You left no footprints. There were no physical signs of God himself. Just his works, just his wonders.

And then the final verse says, “You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron.” Oh, now we know what the psalm is describing. The psalm is describing those horrible years of Egyptian slavery when the people felt like what Asaph is describing here. They felt abandoned. Are God’s promises over? Is he no longer gracious? Does he no longer take pleasure in us? Is his loving kindness — has it all come to an end? Where is he? We reach up. We call out to him and just silence and it feels like we’re just reaching into the air. Where is he?

So, is Asaph using the whole psalm to describe the crossing of the Red Sea and the deliverance from Egypt? Or is he using the deliverance from Egypt to describe the kind of experiences I think we all have at some time in our lives, maybe more than once?

But you notice how waters are mentioned all through these last five verses, because I think they’re appropriate since you can feel like you’re drowning — drowning in depression, drowning in loneliness, drowning in a sense of futility, and everything inside of you is screaming out, “God, are you even there?”

But as you go through this psalm and you look at it, you realize your experience is not just yours. It’s an experience that goes back thousands of years. And you look at how Asaph dealt with it. He had to go back and remember who God was, review God’s attributes, look at his patterns where there are times he is silent because he wants to test his children, but he always comes through to the end. So don’t get out of the boat till you get to the end of the river.

So my purpose here is not to teach this psalm in so much detail that you’ve just got it. My purpose here in this teaching is to give you enough foundation to the psalm to where now you can read it and make it your own and you can go over it and over it and review it and meditate on it and see how God can use it to speak to your own life and to encourage you. Hang in there. Keep a tight grip on your faith. Shepherd your faith as David said and don’t give up. Don’t give up the boat. All right? Stay in that boat because deliverance is right around the corner.

So I hope this bleak psalm is actually an encouragement to you as it has been to me. And until next time, I wish you shalom (שָׁלוֹם) and may God bless.

Teaching Material

Hebrew Word Studies

Asaph (אָסָף) — “Gatherer”; the author of Psalm 77. Asaph was a Levite appointed by David as one of the chief musicians of the Temple. He composed 12 psalms (Psalms 50, 73–83), and Psalm 77 is the fifth in his consecutive series of 11. In this episode his anguished lament becomes the vehicle for one of the Psalter’s most powerful turns from despair to remembrance. — Strong’s H623 · Sefaria: Psalm 77

Jeduthun (יְדוּתוּן) — Named in the superscription: “to the choirmaster according to Jeduthun.” One of the three chief Levitical musicians appointed by David alongside Asaph and Heman. The name may refer to the musician, a particular instrument, or a melody style associated with him. — Strong’s H3038

Elohim (אֱלֹהִים) — The dominant name for God throughout Psalm 77. Grammatically plural but used as a singular when referring to the God of Israel. In this psalm Elohim conveys transcendence and distance — God as the mighty and supreme, rather than the intimate covenant partner. Its repeated use, notably in the absence of YHVH, is central to the psalm’s emotional texture. — Strong’s H430

YHVH / Yah (יָהּ) — God’s personal four-letter covenant name (Yud-He-Vav-He, יהוה), expressing grace, mercy, tenderness, closeness, and intimacy. Strikingly absent from almost all of Psalm 77, appearing only once in its abbreviated form Yah. The deliberate choice of distant names — El, Elohim, Elyon — rather than YHVH captures Asaph‘s felt experience of God as unreachable. — Strong’s H3050 (Yah) · Strong’s H3068 (YHVH)

El (אֵל) — “Power”; the simple singular word spelled aleph-lamed (אל). The root underlying Elohim. Used of Israel’s God, of angels, of human judges, and of pagan deities — always dependent on context for its meaning. In Psalm 77:14, “what El is great as Elohim?” exploits this ambiguity: is Asaph addressing God or asking what power compares to him? — Strong’s H410

Elyon (עֶלְיוֹן) — “Most High”; the divine title in Psalm 77:10. Emphasizes God’s transcendence and elevation above all things. In the psalm’s emotional arc, Elyon is the God who seems unreachably far — the God Asaph must appeal to from below. — Strong’s H5945

Adon (אָדוֹן) — “Master, Lord”; the term Asaph uses when he cries out in his night of distress. Conveys authority and lordship rather than the covenant intimacy of YHVH — the one who has the right to answer, if only he would. — Strong’s H113

Chesed (חֶסֶד) — “Loving kindness, steadfast love, covenant loyalty”; the defining attribute of God whose apparent absence Asaph laments in verse 8: “Has his chesed forever ceased?” The word binds emotional warmth to covenantal faithfulness — it is not merely feeling but committed, reliable love. — Strong’s H2617

Chanun (חַנּוּן) — “Gracious”; from the root chanan (חָנַן), to show favor and bestow grace freely. In verse 9 Asaph asks: “Has El forgotten to be chanun?” This is one of the thirteen attributes of God proclaimed at Sinai (Exodus 34:6), making the question all the more piercing — has God forgotten his own revealed character? — Strong’s H2587

Rachum (רַחוּם) — “Merciful, compassionate”; from the root rechem (רֶחֶם), “womb” — the mercy of a mother for the child she carried. In verse 9, Asaph asks whether God has “in anger shut up his rachum.” Paired with chanun in the great Sinai proclamation (Exodus 34:6), its absence is unthinkable — and yet that is precisely what Asaph fears. — Strong’s H7349

Neginah (נְגִינָה) — “Song, melody, stringed music”; the word Asaph reaches for in verse 6 — “Let me remember my neginah in the night.” Distinct from rinah (רִנָּה), the bright joyful shout of praise, a neginah is reflective and often in a minor key, expressing the heart’s deeper groaning when words are not enough. — Strong’s H5058

Nigun (נִגּוּן) — “Wordless melody”; the Hebrew/Yiddish devotional term derived from the same root as neginah. In Chassidic tradition, the nigun is considered the purest form of prayer — the melody of the soul when language fails. Asaph‘s reaching for his neginah in the darkest night is the ancient prototype of this tradition. — Sefaria: Nigun · Chabad: Niggun

Rinah (רִנָּה) — “Joyful song, shout of praise”; contrasted in this teaching with neginah. The rinah is the bright exuberant song of joy and triumph — what Asaph cannot sing in his darkness, and what waits on the other side of it. — Strong’s H7440

Ephraim (אֶפְרַיִם) and Manasseh (מְנַשֶּׁה) — The two sons of Joseph who were elevated to tribe-level status, effectively giving Joseph a double inheritance in the Land. The background to the Talmudic question in this teaching: why does Psalm 77:15 say “the children of Jacob and Joseph” when Jacob fathered all 12 tribes? — Strong’s H669 (Ephraim) · Strong’s H4519 (Manasseh)

Shalom (שָׁלוֹם) — “Peace, wholeness, completeness, well-being.” — Strong’s H7965

Scripture References

Open All Scripture in Bible Gateway

• Psalm 77 — The full psalm studied in this episode; Asaph‘s lament of God’s felt absence, resolved in the final verses by a turn to remembering God’s mighty acts at the Red Sea
• Exodus 34:6 — God’s self-proclamation at Sinai: “chanun and rachum” — gracious and merciful — the very attributes Asaph fears have gone silent
• 1 Peter 1:7 — “The tested genuineness of your faith” — faith is not proven until it is tested and approved; referenced in the teaching’s discussion of endurance through the trial

External References & Further Study

• Psalm 77 — Sefaria — Full Hebrew and English text of Psalm 77 with classical rabbinic commentaries
• Talmud Sanhedrin 19b — Sefaria — The Talmudic passage cited in this teaching: Rabbi Elazar‘s question about why Psalm 77:15 refers to “the children of Jacob and Joseph,” and the answer that Joseph sustained them in Egypt
• Niggun: The Wordless Melody — The spiritual significance of the nigun in Jewish devotional life; how wordless melody carries prayer when words fail — the ancient tradition rooted in Asaph‘s neginah
• Names of God: El, Elohim, YHVH — Blue Letter Bible — A study of the distinct divine names and what each conveys; directly relevant to this teaching’s analysis of the names Asaph chose and avoided
• Koren Publishers — Publisher of the illustrated Psalms volume quoted in this teaching: “Just as a person who raises an orphan child as his own is judged to be that child’s parent, so did Joseph merit having all of his brothers reckoned as his children”
• The Crossing of the Red Sea — Sefaria — The deliverance from Egypt that Psalm 77 ultimately describes; God’s way through the sea, his path through the great waters, his footprints unseen
• Torah Today Ministries — Home of Tehillim Talks and other Torah-centered teachings from Beth Tikkun