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At age 12, I was a fan of David. He felt familiar, like a pop star could feel familiar. The words of the psalms were as poetic as they were religious, and he was a star -- a dramatic character, because before David could fulfil the prophecy and become the king of Israel, he had to take quite a beating. He was forced into exile and ended up in a cave in some no-name border town facing the collapse of his ego and abandonment by God. But this is where the soap opera got interesting. This is where David was said to have composed his first psalm -- a blues. That's what a lot of the psalms feel like to me -- the blues. Man shouting at God -- "My God, my God, why has thou forsaken me? Why art thou so far from helping me?" (Psalm 22).
I hear echoes of this holy row when unholy blues man Robert Johnson howls, "There's a hellhound on my trail," or Van Morrison sings "sometimes I feel like a motherless child." Texas Alexander mimics the psalms in "Justice Blues": "I cried Lord my father, Lord thy kingdom come. Send me back my woman, then thy will be done." Humorous, sometimes blasphemous, the blues was backsliding' music; but by its very opposition, it flattered the subject of its perfect cousin, gospel.
Abandonment, displacement is the stuff of my favorite psalms. The Psalter may be a font of gospel music, but for me it's in his despair that the psalmist really reveals the nature of his special relationship with God. Honesty, even to the point of anger: "How long, Lord? Wilt thou hide thyself forever?" (Psalm 89) or "Answer me when I call" (Psalm 5).
