Familiar Obscurity

God, You have taught me from my youth, and I still declare Your wondrous deeds.   Psalm 71:17  NASB

I still – The Hebrew word is just a tiny add-on, ʿad, stuck in the middle of ve-ăd- hēnnāh (“and still”) I declare.  You can see that there’s something odd about this.  Hebrew uses two words (ăd- hēnnāh) to express “I still,” when the verb conjugation of nāgad makes it quite obvious that the subject is first person, singular.  In fact, in other Romance languages like Italian or Spanish, it’s unnecessary to include the pronouns because the verb form itself tells you the subject of the sentence.  So, in Italian I can say, “capito,” and everyone knows that I mean “I know.”  I don’t have to say io capito.  The pronoun is understood.  Same thing in Spanish.  Lo sé.  But sometimes the pronoun is spoken.  When?  When you want emphasis!  When I say, “io capito” I mean, “Yes, damn it, I know!”

Now you know why Hebrew has two words for the subject.  ăd- hēnnāh isn’t the pleasant, normal conversational tone.  It’s emphatic.  “After all this time, I still declare Your wonderous deeds.”  The word hēnnāh comes from hēn.  It’s an interjection, a word that demands attention like our English expression, “Look!”  Since here it’s used to emphasize the person, it stressed the immediacy of the situation.  “Look!  It’s me!  Right here, serving you!”  The word points out the emphatic nature of this claim.  We understand the need for an exclamation point, something Hebrew does not have, but now we must ask, “Why?”  “Why does the poet need to emphasize this point?”  The answer is “familiarity.”

I’m a foreigner in Italy.  That means that places in Italy have a intrinsic charm for me when they are routine for Italians.  Recently I spent several hours at Cimitero Monumentale di Staglieno near Genoa.  You have probably enjoyed some of my photos from this amazing place.  If you want a bit more, CLICK HERE.

Ah, but I have many Italian friends who have never been there.  It’s just too familiar.  Like living in New York City and never going to the Empire State building.  We all do it.  A tourist often has a better appreciation of the sights and sounds of a place than a local.  Familiarity breeds contempt, right?  Now you know why the poet has to use an explicit pronoun.  After all this time, after all the things God has done in the past, it’s so easy to just get used to it.  To forget how amazing it all is.  To forget what it means to be alive!  To be in His universe.  To know He cares.

The psalmist wants his readers to be tourists!  To be overwhelmed by the whole experience of God and men.  To stand in wonder and praise His benevolence.  Like the psalmist, you might have been under God’s tutelage for decades.  You might take grace for granted.  Ah, but now you’ll read the written-out pronoun, and you’ll remember there is still a reason to declare Him.

Topical Index: pronoun, ve-ăd- hēnnāh, Cimitero Monumentale di Staglieno, still, Psalm 71:17