In today’s reading, Asaph, a temple musician in Jerusalem, observes the Assyrian invasion of the northern kingdom of Israel. Ten tribes are being swept away, leaving the southern kingdom of Judah exposed to the foreign threat. It is a great tragedy that shakes their faith foundations.

Under such dire circumstances, grief overtakes the writer. He begins by recounting Israel’s favored history of Exodus and the United Kingdom of David and Solomon. They believed they were God’s vine—that God had transplanted them from Egypt and cultivated their growth and fruitfulness over the years. With that collective memory, the people react to God with shock, denial, and anger: “Why did you let this happen to us? Why have you permitted foreign vermin to ravage your vineyard?” The demand for answers then pivots to a bargain never to fail again: “We are the vine you planted that now is being torched. Return your favor to us and we will never turn away again” (AP).

We can relate to these words of desperation. It could be any number of circumstances—a lost job, a failed relationship, or compromised health. Suddenly the landscape changes, and we desperately rehearse the past and wonder how things changed so dramatically for us. Then come the alternating jabs and pleas to God: “Awaken!” “Why?” “We promise!” We turn the words over and over. They become our lament.

The thread of hope that runs through the psalm—the hope that the people hold on to—is our hope as well. Like the Israelites, we believe we are God’s vine and therefore that God is invested in us. The vine may require pruning (see John 15:6); but in troubled times we find, and maintain, hope in the One to whom we belong.