Two decades on, former cabinet minister Jonathan Aitken still remembers the profound despair and loneliness of his first night in prison. Now a prison chaplain, he wants to help new inmates get through their first night inside—and discover real hope too.
During that first ghastly night, with prisoners in other cells shouting threats and abuse at him, Jonathan read Psalm 130. “As I studied its eight short verses, a warm and comforting wave of reassurance flooded over me,” he remembers. “Suddenly, I realised that I was not as lonely, scared, helpless or vulnerable as I had thought. The author of the psalm had been there before me.”
“Out of the depths I cry to you, Lord,” the psalmist begins Psalm 130. Clearly, he is longing for some kind of rescue from God: “I wait for the Lord, my whole being waits” (v. 5). Yet amid his groans, the psalmist clings to his hope: “If you, Lord, kept a record of sins, Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness” (vv. 3-4). God’s mercy and faithfulness are the grounds of this hope.
“He had found a route to climb out of his depths, with God’s help,” Aitken explained. “He had signposted [it] in beautiful poetry.” This route out of the depths is found in the Lord’s unfailing love (v. 7). He hears our cries for mercy (v. 2), and he answers with “full redemption” (v. 7).