Psalms 135-137

Psalms 135-137

            Notice in Psalms 135 and 136 how the psalmist recites God’s mighty actions, especially in the Exodus. For Israel, the Exodus was the foundational act of God, His great act of deliverance. Throughout the psalms we have heard references, allusions, and echoes of that act. This is what praise is: the recitation of God’s saving acts. For the Christian, the focus is on the personal exodus of Jesus Christ, passing over from the death of the cross to the new life of the resurrection. In this action, all of humanity was redeemed from the death of sin, so we recount it constantly.

            Psalm 137 expresses the longing of the exiles in Babylon to return home. The poignant question, “How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” resounds. In the midst of grief and the troubles of life in a fallen world, we ask a similar question: “How can we be joyful under these circumstances?” The psalm doesn’t really offer an answer, except to remember Jerusalem, to remember the Lord’s past goodness, His fulfilled promises. In Christian terms, we cling to the cross and resurrection of Jesus, and remember Paul’s words in Romans 8, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (v. 32).

Psalms 126-134

Psalms 126-134

            I love the imagery of Psalm 126: the idea of relief that makes prior trouble seem like a dream; laughter and joy filling the mouth; streams in the desert. Very evocative images of what it is like when the trouble is past. I love the promise of verses 5-6, too: sowing tears but reaping joy. My own experience is that trouble doesn’t just suddenly go away; I have experienced precious few moments in which the turnaround is so immediate. For me, it seems like trouble fades: griefs are slowly healed, health and strength return after sickness in a few days. But still there comes a day when you realize you’re laughing again, that your joy has returned, and it’s a beautiful thing.

            Psalm 127 extols the virtues of children and a family founded in the Lord. I do think a word of caution is in order here. I’ve heard this psalm used to mandate large families, and I think that we should be careful. While we can in principle rejoice in the gift of children, we should also think of those who are unable to bear children and make sure we don’t accidentally make it seem like they are less than blessed or even under the Lord’s censure. Remember Zechariah and Elizabeth, John the Baptizer’s parents: they are described as righteous and blameless—and barren. Sometimes the Lord blesses differently.

            Psalm 130 is one of my absolute favorites. It begins with a common experience of life, namely, that we are in the depths, trouble surrounding us. It rejoices in the Lord’s faithfulness, that He is gracious and forgiving. And it encourages waiting on the Lord. I find that a really helpful outlook: life is hard sometimes; God is good all the time; and our calling is to wait until the Lord resolves those two things.

            Psalm 133 likens the unity of God’s people to oil and to dew. Oil on the head probably doesn’t sound all that pleasant to moderns; we shampoo often to keep the oil out of our hair. But in an ancient world without our fancy soaps and ointments, oil on the head was considered luxurious, keeping unruly hair in place. As far as the dew is concerned, Hermon is a snow-capped mountain in the north of Israel. It is the source of the Jordan River. For these reasons, it’s emblematic of fertility. In contrast, Mt. Zion is relatively arid. It’s surrounding region rockier, less given to growth. So, the image is one of transferring prosperity from Hermon to Zion. Unity creates a sense of being well-taken care of, well-provided for.

Psalms 120-125

Psalms 120-125

            The next 15 psalms (120-134) are all entitled “a song of ascents.” Nobody knows exactly what that means but the predominant understanding is that this collection of psalms was used as Israelite pilgrims made their way up toward Jerusalem. (Jerusalem sat on a hill and one always literally went ‘up’ to get there.) It seems to me that these psalms reflect a post-exilic origin and that they reflect both the longing for a home on Zion, technically the hill on which Jerusalem sat, and for the presence of the Lord.

            So, for example, in Psalm 120, the psalmist mentions living distant lands—Meshek and Kedar. Ancient place names are notoriously hard to track down, but Meshek may have been in what we know as Turkey and it seems likely that Kedar was in what we know as Saudi Arabia. These are not references to Babylon, but it’s possible an exile in Babylon would describe his banishment in those terms. Pair that with Psalm 121, in which the psalmist is looking up to the mountains, presumably to Mount Zion, and it is evocative of the return from exile and the anticipation of being again in the Lord’s presence. Psalm 121 is replete with the notion that the Lord protects even those who are far away from the Jerusalem, that He watches over those who are going away from His presence and those who are returning. Likewise, Psalm 123 suggests an exilic origin with its prayer for mercy because God’s people have ‘endured no end of contempt.’

            Hopefully the application to our lives is clear enough. We live in the exile of sin, but the gift of God in Jesus’ death and resurrection has brought us back into the presence of God.

Psalm 119

Psalm 119

            By far, the longest of the psalms, Psalm 119 is an extended paean to the Word of God. The psalm is an acrostic; it is composed of 22 sections, one for each letter of the Hebrew alphabet, and the eight verses in each section begin with the letter of the alphabet noted in the superscription. The form suggests order and completeness.

            Eight different words are used to name the Word of God: law, statutes, precepts, commands, laws, decrees, word (two different words). With such a heavy translational emphasis on law, the Lutheran reader might conclude that the psalm is all about God’s demands and condemnation, but the several of the words here have a wider sense that encompasses both Law and Gospel. For example, the Hebrew word torah, customarily translated law, refers to both the laws of Moses and the story of the Exodus. So, the psalm does highlight our behavior and obedience to the law, but it also stresses the promises that God has made.

Psalms 114-118

Psalms 114-118

Psalm 116 is an anthem about the Lord’s saving grace. The psalmist begins in the fear of approaching death, pivots to the confession of the Lord, that He is gracious and compassionate, and rejoices in his deliverance with the great line, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones.” The word precious may be translated heavy, which adds a whole new dimension, echoing the Lord’s words in Ezekiel that He desires not the death of a sinner and Jesus’ weeping at the tomb of Lazarus. Death is no small thing, and the Lord seems to grieve at having to enforce that judgment.

Psalm 117 is the shortest chapter in the Bible.

Psalm 118 has a strong association with Passover and may have been among the psalms that Jesus and His disciples sang at the Last Supper.

Psalms 107-113

Psalms 107-113

            The point of Psalm 107 is in the last verse: “Let the wise heed and ponder the loving deeds of the Lord.” Of course, the body of the psalm talks about all sorts of judgment and trouble, sometimes well-earned as the rebels in the 3^rd stanza (verses 17-22), others from simply following their vocation, as the sailors in the 4^th stanza (verses 23-32). In it all, the wise person will see not only the judgment but also that the Lord delivers.

            Peter quotes Psalm 109 in Acts 1, when the earliest believers are faced with replacing Judas. It’s rather common in the psalms for the psalmist to bemoan treacherous friends even more than treacherous enemies. (I guess one expects enemies to be treacherous…) This is especially true of Judas, whose betrayal runs deep, to the very heart of things. Whatever trouble we face in life, whatever disappointment, whatever betrayal, Jesus suffered it first and He suffered it worst. We truly have a high priest who is like us in every way (Hebrews 4:15).

            One author says that Psalm 110 is quoted or alluded to 30 times in the New Testament. I generally trust his work, so I didn’t check his math. Whether it’s 30 or less, Psalm 110 is all over the New Testament. Jesus Himself uses it to support His claims to be the Messiah. In Holy Week, after His triumphal entry and His cleansing of the temple, the Pharisees and Sadducees mount a series of challenges to Jesus, and He finally silences them by asking,

Then Jesus said to them, “Why is it said that the Messiah is the son of David? David himself declares in the Book of Psalms: “‘The Lord said to my Lord: “Sit at my right hand until I make your enemies a footstool for your feet.”’ David calls him ‘Lord.’ How then can he be his son?” (Luke 20:41-44)

Psalm 110 becomes the proof text par excellence of Jesus’ messiahship.

            Psalm 113 has one of those features so common in the psalms—contrasting the Lord’s exalted nature with His care for the lowly. It’s a mistake to make God too immanent, that is, too present, too common, too friendly. God is wholly other. It is also a mistake too make Him too glorious, as if He was above the mess of human life. The incarnation of the Son of God is proof of His desire to be in the mess with us. So, we balance a God who is high and exalted and who is treated with respect, even fear, and a God who is present for us in our worst times. I’m reminded of that great conversation in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. Mr. Beaver has just told the Pevensie children about Aslan, the great lion. Lucy asks if he is quite safe, and Mr. Beaver say, “Safe? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king, I tell you.” Something to consider about our God!

Psalms 102-106

Psalms 102-106

            One of the classic expressions of what forgiveness means is in Psalm 103. David starts with the Lord’s prototypical self-identification: He is the Lord, gracious and compassionate, slow to anger, and abounding in love (chesed, faithfulness). Some dozen times the Lord is so identified through the Old Testament. This God’s love (chesed, again) is as high as the heavens are above the earth. (The author of the children’s book, Guess How Much I Love You¸ with its answer, “To the moon and back,” has nothing on the Lord!) Then, the description of His forgiveness—“as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions.” It’s a beautiful statement that when God forgives our sins, He means it: there is no lingering effects in the heart of God.

            Psalms 105 and 106 make a pair. In the former, the psalmist extols the Lord’s faithfulness to His promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. He recounts His protection of them until their time in Egypt, and he reminds of the plagues and the Exodus. This God can be trusted. In the latter, the psalmist recounts Israel’s failures: their despair by the Red Sea, their craving for different food, the golden calf, their refusal to enter the land of promise, the idolatry at Beth Peor. God is faithful, but His people are not. I would seem that these psalms were written in the Exile, because Psalm 106 ends with a prayer to gather them again out of the nations. Because God is faithful, there is reason to believe He will.

Psalm 96-101

Psalm 96-101

            Today’s psalms are a series of songs of praise, in many ways overlapping each other in theme and content. If we look for a progression it seems to be that they move from the world in general toward a more specific focus on Israel. Psalm 96 calls for the Lord to be exalted among the nations and looks for His righteous judgment. His people will be judged faithfully. Psalm 97 describes the Lord in His majesty in terms redolent of Mt. Sinai, “clouds and thick darkness.” This is very much Israel’s God who comes to judge, who will put to shame idolaters. In Psalm 98, this majestic God is the one who does marvelous things, especially making his salvation and righteousness known to the nations. That is, His rescue of Israel is His claim to fame, even among the pagans. Psalm 99 continues the trend: the nations tremble. Why? Because the Lord is with Israel. I’m reminded of the fear of Jericho because the Lord was with Israel. Without the Lord Israel is just a ragtag band of immigrants; with Him, she is a force to be feared despite the greatness of their walls and army. By Psalm 100, then, what is left to do but to go to the temple and rejoice that we are His people, the sheep of His pasture. Psalm 101 is again a psalm of David, and he has internalized the struggle: he hates evil, conducts himself according to the Law of God, and so the raging of the nations doesn’t bother him.

Psalms 90-95

Psalms 90-95

            What a great collection of psalms! Psalm 90, the only psalm attributed to Moses, is a lament about old age and the fear of dying. But it ends with wisdom—“Teach us to number our days,” to use our days well and profitably, not to waste the precious time given to us—and with the prayer that the Lord would establish the work of our hands.

            Psalm 91 has been made well-known among us because it is the basis for the well-loved song, “On Eagle’s Wings,” even though the psalm never mentions an eagle… Still, it’s a loving psalm about the Lord’s loving care and protection. Of course, we have to understand it at least partially in an eschatological kind of way: nothing will ultimately hurt us. Maybe we can understand Psalm 91 a little better if we hold it against Romans 8:38-39, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” It’s not that the Christian life will be trouble free; it’s that the love of God will see us through.

            Psalm 92 continues the theme with its promise that the righteous will thrive like a tree, bearing fruit even into old age. Pastor and author Eugene Peterson redeems and a phrase from the atheist philosopher Frederick Nietzsche, describing our Christian life as “a long obedience in the same direction.” There is a blessedness to following the Lord through all of life’s trials and on into a blessed death and an even more blessed future.

            Psalm 95 is familiar to generations of church goers because it forms the basis for the Venite, one of the main canticles of the order of Matins. (My current congregation doesn’t use the order of Matins, and it’s one more case where I wonder what we’ve lost. As I observed when we started reading the psalms, I do wish we used the psalms more often in public worship, as the church has for most of its existence.) Psalm 95 is a beautiful expression of praise and of the confidence of God’s people, “We are the people of His pasture and the flock under His care.” I do find it interesting that the first part of the psalm is so well-known but that the concluding portion—the warning—is all but unknown. It’s as if the psalmist were saying, “Yes, we are the Lord’s flock, but that doesn’t mean we can’t fall into devastating sin. Let’s not be presumptuous.”

Psalms 83-89

Psalms 83-89

            Psalms like Psalm 83 are hard to read. Jesus teaches us to love our enemies and to pray for those who persecute us (Matthew 5:44). How, then, are we supposed to pray for the destruction of our enemies? I find it helpful to make a distinction between God’s enemies in general and individual cases. That is, I think it is acceptable, even anticipated, that we would look for the final judgment, when all the forces that oppose the Lord will be condemned—from the cosmic forces of Satan and his demons to the worldly institutions and attitudes that oppose Him. I try really hard not to personalize, though, as if I knew what was going on in any one person’s heart. I think it is my responsibility to pray for the salvation of any one person, even as I long for the world to be straightened out.

            Psalm 84 reflects an attitude that I wish was more prevalent in our world today. “Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere”? Too often, we act like an hour is too much! Rain keeps people away; snow keeps people away; sunshine and moderate temperatures keep people away; sports, vacations, you name it. We are not a people who honor the Sabbath much anymore!

            Psalm 85 has a collection of some of the most important words in biblical Hebrew, “Love (chesed) and faithfulness (emeth) meet together; righteousness (tsedek) and peace (shalom) kiss each other.” Each of these words carries a lot of freight, so they are hard to translate in a way that captures all their nuances. Chesed refers to the Lord’s faithfulness to His promises; it encompasses His fidelity, His faithfulness, His dedication. (The NIV translates it ‘love’ and I suppose that’s fine, even though Hebrew has another word that more exactly corresponds to what we mean by love.) I learned that emeth should be translated truth, and that can be extended to someone’s trustworthiness, so NIV’s faithfulness is, again, ok. Tsedek means righteousness, and it refers to the Lord’s rightness, that He determines what is right, and that He is the One who will eventually set all things to right. Setting all things right is contained, too, in the Hebrew notion of shalom, or peace. Peace in the Old Testament is not just the absence of war, but it refers to a condition not just in which there is an absence of conflict but also that all things are set right, maybe what we would use the word reconciliation for.

            One last note for today: Psalm 87 seems to allude to a future in which the nations are counted among God’s people. The Old Testament has several places in which the Gentile becomes part of the people of God. For instance, the Law of Moses makes several provisions for the stranger in their midst and Ruth is famously a Moabite. Still, a missionary impulse is relatively rare in the OT, so to read that Egypt (Rahab) Babylon, Philistia, Tyre, and Cush will be recorded among those who acknowledge the Lord reminds us that the Lord’s desire has always been for all humans to be saved.

Psalms 35-41

Psalms 35-41

            The persecution of the righteous seems to tie a lot of today’s readings together. The betrayal of friends, the injustice of success, the final judgment of the faithless—we see these themes in several of today’s psalms. Of course, they reflect David’s own experience, and in some ways they reflect our experiences, but here is a case when we do well to focus them in Christ.

            Jesus is the true righteous sufferer, because He is the only truly righteous man. When Jesus protests that the wicked have risen against Him, that His friends have betrayed Him, that His suffering is unjust—those protests are true. (In our cases, there’s always some sense in which we have to ask, “How did I contribute?” because we are not perfect.) So, when Jesus prays, “Vindicate me, O Lord,” (35:24), He is perfectly right.

            Run this through Jesus’ experience. The Pharisees become increasingly agitated with Him. The chief priests and Sadducees fear Him. Both collaborate with the Romans to turn the people against Him and to have Him crucified. His disciples abandon Him, despite Peter’s insistence that he would die alongside Jesus rather than ever renounce Him. Luke records the centurion’s words at the foot of the cross as, “Surely this was a righteous man,” and that centurion was right. One of the themes of Jesus’ resurrection is that his resurrection was exactly the vindication He was longing for, the Father’s declaration that His Son had not deserved what He got.

            When we’re feeling the injustice of it all, we do well to remember not to protest our innocence too heartily, but to remember that we are “in Christ.” He’s suffered it all already and in perfect innocence. By faith, we are Christ’s and what is true of Him is given to us. Consider Romans 8:17, “Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” We share in His suffering now; we will share in His vindication forever.

Psalms 29-34

Psalms 29-34

            Psalm 30 merits a comment for two reasons: first, it causes us to reflect on the Israelite view of death and the afterlife. Ancient Israel did not have the fully developed sense of the afterlife that we see in the New Testament, especially say in Revelation. The Hebrew name for the place of the dead was sheol. The word itself doesn’t appear in the 2011 NIV, where it’s translated realm of the dead, nor does it appear in older NIVs, where it is translated grave. Whether you see the word in translation or not, it’s there. Sheol is described as a pit, sometimes a slimy pit. Sometimes it’s described as a swampy place where the muck and weeds will pull a person under the water, a far cry from the new Jerusalem’s golden streets! Israel knew that death was beyond human experience and human existence after death was conceived as a shadowy kind of half-reality. As Israel reflected and developed under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, they understood more and more that the God who cared and protected them in life would also care and protect them in the afterlife. (Consider Psalm 6:5: “Among the dead no one proclaims your name. Who praises you from the grave?”) So, Psalm 30 gives us a glimpse of an era in which God’s people were unsure about what happened after death but they clearly saw it as something they wished to be delivered from.

            The second thing in Psalm 30 that I note is in verses 5 and 11, and that is the beautiful promises of God’s intervention, “His anger lasts only a moment; weeping stays for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning. You turned my wailing into dancing and my sackcloth into garments of joy.” I observed in connection with Psalm 13 that this confidence is coupled with the troubled cry, “How long?” And certainly Christian experience demonstrates that God’s blessings aren’t always immediately apparent. I used the word eschatological twice in yesterday’s blog. The word means pertaining to the last things, and it is a way to refer to the great restoration of the creation that will occur when Christ returns in glory. Our confidence, that the Lord will transform weeping into joy, is thoroughly eschatological. We may mourn every day of our life, but we live in the hope that on that day all things will be transformed for our good. It makes waiting an essential part of Christian experience, but as Paul says, “For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently” (Romans 8:24-25).

            Psalm 31 is quoted by Jesus on the cross. It’s a prayer of confidence, even in trying circumstances. Verse 22 captures the point of the psalm, “In my alarm I said, ‘I am cut off from your sight!’ Yet you heard my cry for mercy when I called to you for help.” God hears and cares, even when we think He doesn’t.

            Psalm 32 is a classic expression of confession and the joy of forgiveness.

            Psalm 33 contains an expression of the Biblical view of creation which affirms the basic thrust of Genesis 1, namely, that the Lord created all things out of nothing, simply by speaking them into existence. It’s also a reminder of the power of God’s Word. What He says happens.

Psalms 23-28

Psalms 23-28

            Psalm 23 is, of course, the most well-known of all the psalms, its idyllic imagery bringing comfort to generations of Christians. The image of a shepherd is appropriate for David, who famously was a shepherd before he was called to both royal service under Saul and to the kingship itself. In some ways, a shepherd is the ideal image of Israel’s king, because it’s an image appropriated by Yahweh Himself, both here and in other places. Contrary to the world around them, Israel saw a true king as a caretaker and protector of the people under his care, just as Yahweh was a different kind of god, a god who cared for and knew and redeemed His people.

The 2011 update of the NIV makes what I consider the strange choice to translate verse 4 as walking through the darkest valley. I still prefer the more literal translation, “the valley of the shadow of death.” The latter translation sees the eschatological implications of verses 5-6, about which theologian Miroslav Wolf makes this interesting note. In a book about forgiveness and remembering, he tells a story of an army officer who had mistreated him in his native land, then he imagines two ways to understand a table in the presence of his enemies. He comments that he had always imagined that verse as himself at the table and his enemies looking on with jealous. Then he reimagined it that his enemy was at the table with him, equally forgiven and them reconciled. That’s a powerful image of the healing that occurs for us on the last day.

            Psalm 24 is often associated with the season of Advent. The first Sunday in Advent has traditionally had Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem as its Gospel reading, and the psalm certainly plays on the image of the triumphant Lord coming to the gates of Jerusalem in victory. (Since the word advent is a Latin word that simply means coming, the appropriateness of both Scriptures is apparent.)

            Psalm 27:1 is a common confirmation verse, with its promise that the believer has nothing to fear with the Lord as his light, salvation, and stronghold. The rest of the psalm bears reflection, too. Verse 2-3 advance the idea of fearlessness, and verses 4-6 define the believer’s hope: on the one hand, David longs to be in the tabernacle; on the other hand, the tabernacle is just an earthly reflection of God’s heavenly throne room, so there is an eschatological sense here, too. The believer’s deliverance and vindication may not be obvious in this age of the world, but in the age to come… Verses 7-12 are a prayer to be heard by the Lord because that end-time vindication hasn’t appeared yet and a prayer to know the Lord’s ways, a good prayer in a time when the evidence seems to indicate the Lord’s disengagement from us. Finally, verse 12-13 express the believer’s confidence and conclude with the exhortation to wait for the Lord. Sometimes, oftentimes, it seems like that is all the believer can do—wait for the Lord. (I’ve often commented that in the New Testament faith, hope, and love are the chief virtues and that the fourth virtue is patience endurance, mentioned time and again!)

Psalms 18-22

Psalms 18-22

            Four of today’s five psalms are of David. (About half the psalms are his.) What’s interesting in a few of them is how they offer a lesson in interpretation. In the first instance, Psalm 18, for example, is a song celebrating David’s deliverance from Saul. He recounts his sense that death was impending; he celebrates the Lord’s intervention in mythic terms; and he rejoices that he was rescued from his enemies. Secondly, though, it’s a psalm we can imagine on Jesus’ lips. On the cross, death reached out for and in the resurrection the Father intervened powerfully. Now Jesus has victory over His foes and ours—sin, death, and the devil. Finally, in some ways, we can read this psalm in exactly as David did: we see the troubles of our lives, rejoice in God’s powerful intervention (which we apprehend by faith in Christ Jesus), and exult that those cosmic foes that Jesus defeated, he defeated for us and for our benefit.

            Similarly with Psalm 22. In the first instance, it’s about David’s personal experience. In the second, Jesus famously quotes the opening verse on the cross, appropriating the psalm as a description of His experience. Finally, we come to it in the ordinary trials of life, as David did, but we also come to it in faith in the One who has gone through everything we go through. Only He came through it to victory, so for us, in Him, we recognize our ultimate victory, too.

            Psalm 19 is of a different sort, but it’s important to consider. It begins by rejoicing in the way that the creation “declares the glory of the Lord.” Call this natural knowledge of God, the evidence of God in creation. The psalmist sees God’s glory in the stars and in the sun. But there’s a hiccup: on the one hand, he says “they pour forth speech;” but on the other hand, “They have no speech.” There is a clear limitation to this natural knowledge. We might learn of a God who is powerful, orderly, glorious. But we don’t learn anything about His grace. The second half of the psalm pivots almost completely to the Lord’s revealed will. (Notice that in verses 1-6, it’s always God, never the Lord. You can’t make too much out of it, but the Lord is the name He revealed to Moses as He brought Israel out of Egypt; the Lord is His saving name.) It’s in the Lord’s revealed words that we have guidance, instruction, comfort—certain knowledge of His will and His grace. Natural knowledge is fine so far as it goes, but if you really want to know the God of grace, you need His revealed knowledge. You need to read the Scriptures, hear the Scriptures read and explained. That’s where salvation is found.

Psalms 12-17

Psalms 12-17

            One of the things that many Christians find helpful in understanding the psalms is to understand Jesus as the most proper speaker. It’s a useful exercise in some cases to ask the question, “What would this sound like, what would this mean, on the lips of Jesus?” I say “in some cases,” because although people I respect a lot understand the psalms this way, I’m not sure it’s always as useful as it could be.

            I bring it up today, because in Psalm 12, I can see it. The psalmists opening lament that no one is faithful draws my mind to Jesus in Gethsemane where even His closest friends abandon Him to the cross. (Yes, Peter follows at a distance, but that’s a far cry from Peter’s earlier, “I will stand with you!”) And you can imagine the promise that the Lord would protect the plundered poor and the groaning needy on Jesus’ mind as the cross loomed in front of Him.

            The phrase, “How long?” appears some 17 times in 10 psalms, four times in the first two verses of Psalm 13 alone. Whether we’ve expressed it that way or not, I think it’s a question often on our minds: how long until the Lord finally and fully intervenes? How long until He sets everything to rights in fullness as He did in principle when Jesus dies and rose again. The last verse is important: “But I trust in your unfailing love.” And we New Testament believers have seen the fullness of that love in Jesus.

            Psalm 14 is well-known both for its famous opening line, “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God,’” and for its use in Romans 3, where Paul adds it to the list of verses proving the point that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”

            “The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places.” That’s a line I’ve often reflected on. Ministry has taken us to three congregations in two states, and we’ve been blessed by our relationships with them. Whatever boundaries the Lord has set on our lives, we are blesse there—if we but open out eye s to see it.

Psalms 7-11

Psalms 7-11

            One of the surprising features in Psalm 7 is David’s claim for his own righteousness in verse 8, “Vindicate me according to my righteousness.” Here’s a place for some careful distinctions. It’s not that David (or any of the other psalmist) think they are perfect. Psalm 51, also of David, makes that point with David’s abject repentance! But he does think, as Job did, that he has live a life that by human standards has been good, that he has integrity. A useful distinction is between how things look from God’s point of view (coram Deo) and how they look from a human point of view (coram hominibus). David here is speaking from that human point of view. Even our Lutheran Confessions make space for what they call civic righteousness. Think of it this way: just because every human carries the corruption of original sin, that doesn’t make every human Jeffrey Dahmer…

            Psalm 8 is well-known, if for no other reason than that there is a famous praise song that uses verse 1 as a chorus. It is also quoted four times in the New Testament. Verse 2 is cited in Matthew 21 in regard to Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. And verses 4-6 are quoted in Hebrews in regard to the divinity of Jesus. In its original context, Psalm 8 is a paean about the role that humans play in God’s order for his creation: they are, in a sense, lower than the angels, without that power and splendor, yet they are, in a sense, higher than the angels because they bear God’s image and are his regents on earth.

            Psalm 9 intriguingly compares the Lord to the avenger of blood. The avenger of blood was a close relative whose duty it was to make sure that those who hurt a member of the family paid the price. So, the psalmist calls on the Lord to remember his troubles and those who have caused it. That the Lord is not some vigilante is seen in the confident assertion that the Lord judges with equity.

            Psalm 10 begins with a lament that the Lord seems to delay his intervention for his people. The bulk of the psalm (verses 2-11) recount how awful the wicked are. And it ends with a stirring call for the Lord to act. Sometimes the language of the Psalms can seem vicious. “Break the arm of the wicked!” For Christians, we understand that the ultimate day of God’s punishment is the last day, and the ultimate punishment is not vicious so much as untellingly severe: an eternity in hell.

Introducing Psalms

Psalms 1-6

            Ah, Psalms! We’re going to read it in just over 4 weeks, and that’s no way to read this delightful book. Until we started Today’s Light, I had been in a discipline that included reading the psalms in 6 months—twice a year.

            Psalms is at once a hymnal and a prayerbook, a combination that makes sense once we think about how often our hymns speak to God in prayer. Israel sang the songs in the temple and in the synagogue and there is clear evidence that some psalms were assigned to certain festivals, too. (The church has used the psalter the same way, although in our modern, time-conscious times they have fallen more and more into disuse. More’s the pity!) Here you will find expression of all sorts of human experience: praise, thanksgiving, anger, lament, guilt. If you’re feeling it, chances are there is a psalm that expresses it.

            Like any good hymnal, the psalter is a sort of greatest hits album. Psalm 90 is attributed to Moses, 3500 years ago. About half of the psalms are attributed to David, a good 500 years later. Still others come from the period after the exile, still another 500 years. So, we have the best prayers and songs of Israel from a period of about 1000 years.

            So much more could be said about the psalms! Last time I did a Bible study on this precious book, it took thirty weeks. I’ll try to hit some of the high points as we go. But I would strongly suggest that you make this collection a part of your regular devotion. For what it’s worth, this is the schedule I have followed the past few years:

 

Week 1            Psalms 1-8

Week 2            Psalms 9-15

Week 3            Psalms 16-19

Week 4            Psalms 20-25

Week 5            Psalms 26-31

Week 6            Psalms 32-36

Week 7            Psalms 37-40

Week 8            Psalms 41-46

Week 9            Psalms 47-52

Week 10          Psalms 53-59

Week 11          Psalms 60-67

Week 12          Psalms 68-70

Week 13          Psalms 71-74

Week 14          Psalms 75-78

Week 15          Psalms 79-85

Week 16          Psalms 86-89

Week 17          Psalms 90-96

Week 18          Psalms 97-103

Week 19          Psalms 104-106

Week 20          Psalms 107-111

Week 21          Psalms 112-118

Week 22          Psalm 119

Week 23          Psalm 120-132

Week 24          Psalms 133-140

Week 25          Psalms 141-146

Week 26          Psalms 147-150

 

With that, let’s take a brief look at today’s psalms. Psalms 1 and 2 are usually considered as a pair, introducing the major themes of the psalter. Reasons for this include the fact that neither has any attribution or introductory comment; they are framed by a statement of blessing (1:1, 2:12); and they introduce two major themes.

The first major theme is about wisdom, a gift which is found in delighting in the Lord’s law (1:2). Law here is used in a different way than Lutherans typically use it. We hear “law” and think of God’s condemnation for our sin. Here, as in many other places in the Old Testament, the underlying word is torah, which often refers to the first five books of the Bible. So, here, to delight in the torah of the Lord is to delight in His act of creation, his choice of Abraham (and hence Israel), and especially the deliverance from Egypt and the joy of being God’s holy people, expressed in the laws of Moses.

            The second major theme encompasses God’s reign over all the earth. Here, as often, it is expressed in terms of His anointed. God’s anointed often refers in the first instance to the Davidic king, but equally often we hear messianic overtones in that language.

Psalm 3 laments that although David is the Lord’s anointed, his enemies surround him. (The introduction specifically tells us David wrote this psalm while he was fleeing during Absalom’s revolt.) Typical of many psalms, Psalm 3 juxtaposes David’s frustration with his circumstances with his confidence in the Lord.

Just a few quick notes on the remaining psalms today. Psalm 4: I love verse 8. For a guy who has a hard time turning his brain off and sleeping, this is a promise I cherish. Psalm 5:8-9: a visceral description of one’s enemies. Psalm 6:7 expresses a common sentiment in the psalms, namely, that no one sings God’s praises from the grave. Keep this one in mind. Hopefully at a future point we can talk about Israel’s understanding of the afterlife.

Summing Up

Job 42

            In the end, Job is repentant. Not for some presumed fault that led to his suffering but for his presumption in how he talked to and about the Lord. Verse 5 suggests a different kind of knowledge of God: “I’d heard of you but now I see,” Job says. It’s one thing to have a sort of abstract head-knowledge that God is omnipotent; it is a whole other thing to have lived through terrible suffering and to know in your very bones that the Lord can be trusted. Of course, for New Testament believers like us, that lesson is centered in God’s ultimate act of mercy, the death of His Son, Jesus. If the Lord loves us like that… Or, as Paul puts it in Romans 8:32, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?”

            The Lord condemns Job’s friends for not speaking the truth about Him. They had lots of theologically true and interesting things to say, but they misconstrued the character of God. They had prioritized His justice over His grace. In terms of Lutheran theology, they had confused His alien work, the work that He does because He has to although He takes no delight in it, such as punishing sin, with His proper work, the work that is most true to His character, namely, showing compassion to His beloved creatures. Job, for his part, had spoken the truth about the Lord. As we have seen, he may have gone too far in his presumption, but he looked for mercy from his God.

            Ultimately, Job is doubly blessed. He accumulates twice the livestock he had before. He is blessed with seven more sons and three more daughters, as beautiful women as could be found. And he dies an old man. (There is some question whether Job lives an additional 140 year or if 140 is his age at death. Either way, it’s an age worthy of the patriarchs.) In our suffering, there is no guarantee that we will be so abundantly blessed with the things of this age of the world. But we who are in Christ will be blessed in the age to come, with eternal life in the very presence of our God. Christians look at these things eschatologically, that is, with the End in mind 

The Lord’s Turn

Job 38-41

            At long last, the Lord makes an appearance—in a storm. The storm, it seems to me, has two purposes. On the one hand, it makes the Lord’s appearance terrifying. Job is put in his place; he doesn’t fully appreciate Who he is dealing with. The Lord spends chapters 38 and 39 cataloguing His works of creation, and reminding Job that a human has no ability to do all the things the Lord does. From the earth’s foundations to the springs of the deep to the stars in heaven to the secret wisdom of the animals’ character—it is all the Lord. “Who is this that obscures my plans with words without knowledge,” indeed!

            On the other hand, the storm is reminiscent of God’s appearance on Mt. Sinai and the cloud in which He dwelt in the tabernacle. The all-powerful Lord condescends to talk to his unruly servant. There is a certain kind of grace in that, demonstrating that He has heard Job’s cries, that He has seen, that He does care. The Lord’s purpose is not only to put Job in his place but also to comfort Job with His presence.

            It turns out young Elihu was closest to correct: Job needs to learn humility; the sufferer needs to learn his place. We readers know from chapters 1 and 2 that the Lord is not punishing Job. Indeed, the Lord has been bragging about Job. The whole thing is a chance for Job to prove his faithfulness, a faithfulness the Lord never doubted. If in his suffering Job has overreached and has become too strident in his objections, the Lord still considers him faithful. Job just needs to be reminded that the Lord is God and that Job is but one of His creatures. Job needs to learn what he confessed in chapters 1 and 2, namely, that the Lord can be counted on in trouble as in blessing.

            That seems like an apt lesson for all of us.