Psalm 30 comes from a life well-worn with God’s faithfulness. Here David is a luminary, speaking from the wealth of his own experiences and his deep life with God. This is part prayer, part call to worship, and part sapiential wisdom. The pain here, though extremely perilous, is relegated to the past. For David, dawn has come. “If you’re still in the throes of night,” David proclaims the gospel to you: “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with morning (v. 5).” Hold on, morning is coming,

It would seem from the text that David brought about this dark night all by himself. He knows that God was “angry” with him (v. 5) and that God hid his face (v. 7). Like the twilight descends upon the daylight, it grows dark slowly. Sin does this, it creeps slowly, incrementally and then suddenly—its pitch black outside. It was only when David found himself alone in the dark that he realized the trouble that he was in. In his despair, he cried out to the Lord (v. 8).

David doesn’t just call out for help, he bargains with God, reminding him. You see for David, there is no life beyond the grave, no future beyond his existence walking in the land of the living. And so in the midst of his dismay, he protests to the Lord: “What profit is there in my death, if I go down to the Pit? Will the dust praise you? Will it tell of your faithfulness?” David isn’t ready to be another member of the dust choir, the melodies of the shades don’t reach the throne of God.

When God removes himself, it feels like the worst kind of abandonment, like death, like eternal solitary confinement. But his momentary anger is nothing compared to his lifelong faithfulness (v. 5) and his judgment is only a beckoning back home. Whatever David did to find himself in the snares of death, it was only in his dismay at feeling alone that caused him to cry out to God. God, either due to our sin or because he is further refining us, will often remove his manifest presence. This can be a judgment for our disobedience or a “dark night of the soul” ^[1]see John of the Cross. But the specific reasons are secondary, the primary reason is God calling us to himself.

As David reflects upon the faithfulness of God, he testifies to this incredible reversal that has taken place. God has replaced his mourning not just with a calm disposition but with dancing, he is literally wearing joy as a garment. And even more, it’s possible that David’s whole framework has been transfigured. Whereas in the midst of his pain, David lamented that he would be consigned to the chorus of the dead, who sing no songs and whose voices make no sound. But now he declares, “My soul will not not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to you forever.”

Forever. David despaired of his earthly life because there was nothing beyond. But now, there’s this defiant forever, this hope that dances upon the grave of death. Forever. Only dark nights can drape the dawn in the most splendid hope.