Joy Comes in the Morning (Psalm 30)

I will exalt you, LORD,
because you have lifted me up
and have not allowed my enemies
to triumph over me.
LORD my God,
I cried to you for help, and you healed me.
LORD, you brought me up from Sheol;
you spared me from among those
going down to the Pit.

Sing to the LORD, you his faithful ones,
and praise his holy name.
For his anger lasts only a moment,
but his favor, a lifetime.
Weeping may last all night long
but joy comes in the morning.

When I was secure, I said:
“I will never be shaken.”
LORD, when you showed your favor,
you made me stand like a strong mountain;
when you hid your face, I was terrified.
LORD, I called to you;
I sought favor from my Lord:
“What gain is there in my death,
if I go down to the Pit?
Will the dust praise you?
Will it proclaim your truth?
LORD, listen and be gracious to me;
LORD, be my helper.”

You turned my lament into dancing;
you removed my sackcloth
and clothed me with gladness,
so that I can sing to you and not be silent.
LORD my God, I will praise you forever.
(Psalm 30).

Weeping may last all night long, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30 talks about the power of sleep, particularly when we’re in the midst of sorrow, anger, pain, and suffering. This, indeed, is part of a broader narrative that we can find throughout the Bible–a theology of sleep. At first, that might sound strange to us, but if you look through the Bible (as I’ll survey over this and two more posts), you’ll see that it really does have a consistent teaching about the power and value and nature of sleep.

Sleep provides a new beginning, a new chance to make things right, something that refreshes and provides hope: “Weeping may last all night long, but joy comes in the morning.” And it is God who provides sleep when we are overwhelmed by sorrow, by pain, by suffering… sleep can be a gift of God because it is what puts to end that dark night and reveals the light of a new day filled with hope. This is the story of the Bible:

In Genesis 1, the earth was formless and void but God spoke reality into existence, declaring “let there be light” and there was light. There was nothing at night, but joy came with the morning.

In Genesis 22, God came to Abraham at night, telling him that he must take his son, his only son, Isaac, whom he loved, and to go to the land of Moriah and sacrifice him there as a burnt offering, but Abraham arose early in the morning filled with faith and the knowledge that God would even raise his son from the dead. Weeping lasted all night long, but joy came in the morning.

After stealing his blessing and his birthright, Jacob fled his brother Esau in the night and laid his head on a stone. But in Genesis 28, God sent the terrified Jacob a dream, of angels descending and ascending on a ladder, showing his faithfulness. And in the morning, Jacob took that stone and set up an altar to God. Weeping lasted all night long, but joy came in the morning.

Pharaoh had awful dreams at night, dreams of famine and drought, of cows and corn. But in the morning he summoned his wise men and—eventually Joseph, in Genesis 41. From this, Joseph was taken out of prison where he was unfairly placed for a crime he did not commit. His weeping lasted all night long, but joy came in the morning.

In 1 Samuel 17, the Philistine Goliath threatened Israel for forty days and nights, insulting them, and cursing the God of heaven. Goliath was enormous and he terrified Israel, for none was brave enough to fight him. But we read that in the morning, the Shepherd David went down to Saul’s camp where he—along with his sling and his stones—would defeat this enemy champion. Israel may have wept all night long, but joy came in the morning.

When king Hezekiah was surrounded by an enormous army of Assyrians, he went to the temple, he wept and he prayed all night long. And we read, in Isaiah 37, that an angel of the LORD went out and struck down 185,000 of the Assyrians, and when the people arose early in the morning, they were there, safe. Weeping may last all night long, but joy comes in the morning.

Jesus died on a Cross as evening fell, and we see the disciples—like sheep scattered when the shepherd is struck—run, terrified, weeping, mourning, lost, confused, alone. We read that Peter, when he betrayed Jesus for that third time, went out and “wept bitterly” (Luke 22.62). Jesus’ body was placed in the dark, in a rich man’s tomb, while he descended below the earth. But he was sinless and death could not bind him. So—on the third day—when some women went to the tomb, early in the morning, with spices to anoint his dead body, his dead body they did not find, but an angel who told them “Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, he is risen.” Weeping may have lasted all night long, but joy came in the morning.

You see, you don’t have to know the Bible particularly well to know these things are true. We learn as children, even if in a world where we have electric lights and flashlights and street lights and headlights, that the night is scary. There is something wrong with it. God after all, does banish its unending power by creating light. But as we grow up, we “grow out” of our fear of the night; we remove our nightlights and make fun of those who keep them. But as we grow older still, as we experience loss and pain, sickness and sorrow, and yes, even the death of loved ones, we are reminded again the terrors of night. We learn the feeling of weeping the night long, bereft even of tears. And we know that—if we are lucky, if we are blessed—we might find some sleep and the solace it can bring.

As we see with the disciples, sometimes one night of such weeping is not enough to return our joy. It took them until the third day to find joy in the resurrected Lord. And we often must wait far longer than that until darkness’ grip on us is broken.

Sleep then, is odd. On the one hand, as we’ll see tomorrow and the next day, sleep—since it is done at night—can represent death and darkness, failure and succumbing to Satan’s grasp. But, on the other hand, sleep is that which brings us through the night and the sorrows that it brings; it is a bridge from darkness to light, and a bridge that can allow this to pass it over and return us to joy and hope, refreshed and awaken to hope. How then and when should we sleep, and how may we do so in faith? In other words, what is our theology of sleep?

We’ll talk more about that next time, but for now let me just say this: when you are tired, worn, and overwhelmed; when you have banged your head as much as you can against the problems that you have; when you find yourself stressed, struggling, and strung out—go and take a nap or go to sleep. Because weeping may tarry all night long, but joy comes in the morning.

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to keep,
Watch and guard me through the night,
and wake me with the morning light.

A Prayer