{"id":240,"date":"2013-02-20T20:10:11","date_gmt":"2013-02-20T20:10:11","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/buildingontheword.org\/?page_id=240"},"modified":"2021-09-13T20:58:10","modified_gmt":"2021-09-14T00:58:10","slug":"the-book-of-psalms","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/buildingontheword.org\/bible-study\/the-book-of-psalms\/","title":{"rendered":"The Book of Psalms"},"content":{"rendered":"
If you want to know a nation’s accomplishments, read its history. If you want to understand a nation’s culture, recite its poetry. If you want to touch a nation’s soul, embrace its prayer. This is the gift of the Psalms. For in this biblical book we touch the soul of Israel and our own as well. Within this book are collected one hundred and fifty prayers addressed directly to God, reflecting the range of human desires and emotions. No more accurate insight can be given into the heart of the believer than to follow the dialogue from creature to Creator, from petitioner to Savior. Here all pretense and posturing are left aside, and what remain are urgency, honesty, and praise.<\/p>\n
This is a study of the first third of the Book of Psalms. To orientate ourselves for this effort, we will examine briefly the history of the Psalms, their setting, and how they can be classified.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The word “psalm” in the original Hebrew means simply a “song.” These songs of Israel were composed over a period of seven hundred years, beginning with the rise of the Davidic monarchy (1000 B. C.). The Book of Psalms, therefore, is certainly not the work of a single author but rather a collection of prayers written at different times and for varying reasons. It is impossible to connect individual psalms with their historical authors, but it is likely that most psalms were composed by talented individuals in the royal court or temple. Not all the psalms of Israel are contained in the Book of Psalms. Psalms can be identified in other books of scripture such as the Song of Moses in Exod 15:1-18 and the Song of Deborah in Judg 5:1-31.<\/p>\n
Many psalms originated in local sanctuaries. These small places of worship developed their own collections of “songs” used in the praise of Yahweh. Over time these collections were gathered and reshaped by editors into larger collections. This process of enlargement and adaptation continued until the final form of the Book of Psalms was reached after Israel returned from the Babylonian exile (538 B.C.). We can trace this process because smaller collections are still recognizable within the present Book of Psalms.<\/p>\n
Two collections of psalms are gathered together under the name of David: Pss 3-41 and 51-71. Most of the psalms in these groupings have come down to us with a title, “of David.” Although it might be tempting to conclude that this title indicates that King David was the author of these psalms, this is unlikely. The titles of the psalms have been added by later editors wishing to associate the psalm with a particular person or event. Moreover, the phrase “of David” need not indicate authorship. It can also be translated “on behalf of David,” which would mean “written for the sake of David.” Even more likely it could be read as “belonging to David,” which would indicate that the psalm was collected under the name of David.<\/p>\n
What makes this last possibility attractive is that the entire Book of Psalms has been associated with David. The scriptures testify that David himself was skilled at song. He was called to play music for Saul whenever the king’s spirits were low, and when he played Saul would be relieved (1 Sam 16:23). David was also said to dance before the ark of God with song (2 Sam 6:5). But David’s chief achievement for Israel was to capture the city of Jerusalem, making it his own city and locating the worship of Yahweh there (2 Sam 5:6-9). The Book of Sirach testifies to David’s connection to both the songs of Israel and their use in the temple:<\/p>\n
In all that he did he gave thanks to the Holy One, the Most High, with ascriptions of glory; he sang praise with all his heart, and he loved his Maker. He placed singers before the altar, to make sweet melody with their voices. He gave beauty to the feasts, and arranged their times throughout the year, while they praised God’s holy name, and the sanctuary resounded from early morning (Sir 47:8-10).<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
In light of David’s establishment of worship in Jerusalem, it is easy to explain why so many psalms and collections of psalms would be titled “belonging to David.”<\/p>\n
Other psalm collections can be identified within the Book of Psalms. Psalms 73-83 are titled “of Asaph.” Asaph is identified in 1 Chr 16:5 as one of David’s chief musicians. Psalms 42-49, are titled “of the Sons of Korah.” These psalms seem to have formed the repertoire of this family of temple singers.<\/p>\n
When the Book of Psalms received its final form, other single psalms were added to the already assembled collections and then shaped into a five-fold division, probably to mirror the five-fold nature of the Pentateuch. Each section ends with a shout of praise which serves as a doxology (Pss 41; 72; 89; 106). Psalm 150 offers a monumental hymn of praise to conclude both the last section and the entire book.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Setting of the Psalms<\/h3>\n
Even though the history of individual psalms can only be partially reconstructed, the setting of most psalms can be traced to the temple in Jerusalem. It was here, in the place where sacrifice was offered and Yahweh was worshipped, that these song-prayers of Israel were often composed, regularly used, and carefully preserved. The temple was the center of Jewish life. Each year brought three pilgrimages to the holy place with numerous public ceremonies and opportunities for private prayer. All of these required praise and song.<\/p>\n
No accurate records of how the temple ceremonies were conducted have survived. However, many liturgical actions can be found within the psalms themselves. As we will see in the daily reading guide, various psalms describe processions, smoke and incense, carrying the ark, dance, washing or sprinkling with water, fanfares, and prostration. The title of Ps 100 indicates that it was to be used when the thanksgiving sacrifice was offered. The title of Ps 30 tells us that it was sung at the dedication of the temple. Directions in Ps 5 say that it should be played “with flutes.” Seven psalms (4, 6, 54, 55, 61, 67, 76) are directed to be played “with stringed instruments.”<\/p>\n
Seventy-one times the psalms include a direction “selah,” the meaning of which is unclear. It could mean that an interlude should be played, that the people should sing louder, that those who pray should prostrate in homage, or that a refrain such as “for ever” be spoken. Although debate continues over the precise meaning of certain directions, there is little disagreement over the setting in which we are to locate the psalms. They are the liturgical prayer of Israel, the prayers which accompanied the worship in the Jerusalem temple.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Classification of the Psalms<\/h3>\n
Because a clear history of individual psalms eludes us, a major advance in the understanding of the psalms was provided by the work of the German scholar, Hermann Gunkel (1862-1932). Gunkel analyzed psalms according to their structure, which allowed him to classify them into various types. Once the particular form of a psalm was identified, efforts could be made to determine the life-setting in which the psalm originated.<\/p>\n
Gunkel’s work has had profound influence in the study of the psalms. His classifications have been both accepted and adjusted. His three main categories are psalms of praise, psalms of lament, <\/em>and psalms of thanksgiving.<\/em> Psalms of praise<\/em> extol the greatness of Yahweh, giving the reasons for Yahweh’s glory. The reasons are usually the great acts of creation or the saving deeds within history. Psalms of lament<\/em> identify a problem which is besetting the one who prays. This trouble could be sickness, death, sin, injustice, or persecution. Following the description of the problem, the one who prays asks for God’s help. This request is at the center of the psalm. For this reason these psalms might be more clearly termed psalms of petition<\/em>. They seek God’s intervention in a difficult situation.<\/p>\n
Psalms of thanksgiving<\/em> are prayers offered to God in response to a saving experience. Claus Westermann has argued that such psalms do not warrant their own category. Westermann notes that there is no Hebrew word for “thanksgiving.” The word we translate as thanksgiving is the word for praise. Therefore, according to Westermann, it is more accurate to include the psalms which Gunkel has termed psalms of thanksgiving<\/em> as part of the psalms of praise.<\/em> For in them praise is given for God’s saving action.<\/p>\n
We will follow Westermann’s simplification. This will allow us to divide the psalms into two basic types: psalms of praise<\/em> and psalms of petition<\/em>. By doing this, the two categories of psalms will match the two motivations which guide all prayer: the desire to praise God and the need to ask God for help.<\/p>\n
Psalms of praise and petition can be further divided into psalms that are voiced by the community and psalms which are prayed by an individual. This division must be appreciated without being overplayed. An individual psalm may strike us as more personal, yet it should never be seen as a private prayer. Even individual psalms were prayed as part of a community and often in connection with a communal liturgy. Nor should we understand the community psalms as erasing the personal investment of those who pray. Community and individual psalms express the two poles of every prayer. In the midst of a holy people, I lift up my most personal needs; as a saved individual, I praise God as part of a community.<\/p>\n
A number of other psalms can be classified according to a particular characteristic or situation. Royal psalms<\/em> commemorate some event in the life of the king. Psalm 2 recounts the accession to the throne; psalm 45 a royal marriage; psalm 18, victory by the king in war. Wisdom psalms <\/em>reflect the influence of the wisdom tradition which deals with the problem of evil and the justice of God. Liturgical psalms<\/em> are those which are clearly connected to a procession or pilgrimage event in or around the Jerusalem temple.<\/p>\n
More specific classifications will be offered as we examine each psalm. However, the four general classifications presented here provide a practical starting point: psalms are individual<\/em> or communal<\/em> prayers of praise<\/em> or petition<\/em>.<\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n<\/a>Is Jesus in the Psalms?<\/h1>\n
The psalms are prayed regularly by millions of Christians. In monasteries and cathedrals, in parish rectories and private homes, followers of Jesus offer these prayers to God. Because of the spread of Christianity, today there are numerically more Christians than Jews who pray the psalms. This fact is not easily justified. For these prayers, which so many regularly use to worship Jesus, contain no explicit reference to him. Jesus’ name never appears in the psalms nor is there any overt mention of his life or ministry.<\/p>\n
This absence of Jesus from the psalms is simply explained from a historical perspective. The psalms were written several hundred years before Jesus’ birth, thus direct references to him would be impossible. How then can we justify a “Christian” reading of the psalms? Does this practice not violate the intention of the original authors? Is not finding Jesus in the psalms an indefensible reading of these prayers outside of their proper context?<\/p>\n
We may well reduce these questions to one: is there a valid way to re-read an older text in a new context? To begin, we will document the presence of re-reading within the scriptures.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Re-Reading in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures<\/h3>\n
Both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures re-read older texts in light of new experiences. When the Jewish prophet Deutero-Isaiah wants to describe the return of Israel from the Babylonian exile in 538 B.C., he reaches back over seven hundred years to the foundational event of Israel’s history:<\/p>\n
Thus says the LORD, who makes a way in the sea, a path in the mighty waters, who brings out chariot and horse, army and warrior; they lie down, they cannot rise, they are extinguished, quenched like a wick: Do not remember the former things, or consider the things of old. I am about to do a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (Isa 43:16-19)<\/p><\/blockquote>\n
The clear references to the crossing of the Red Sea and the wandering of Israel through the desert indicate that Isaiah is re-reading the story of Israel’s exodus from Egypt in light of what he sees as a new exodus from Babylon.<\/p>\n
In so far as we are able to reconstruct the history of the psalms, it is clear that existing psalms were revised and enlarged so that they might relate to new contexts. This process can be identified within a group of psalms called the Royal Psalms<\/em>. The original setting of these psalms was to provide song at a royal ceremony. Psalm 2, for example, was probably sung for a Davidic king of Judah on the occasion of his installation. We can picture how clearly the famous seventh verse of this psalm (“You are my son; today I have begotten you.”) accompanies the action of the Davidic king as he assumes his throne. Yet even hundreds of years after the monarchy in Israel had ended, Jews continued to pray this psalm. The context had changed. No longer was the psalm seen as a description of the existing king. It became an expression of a perfect king, a descendent of David, who would some day assume the rule in Israel. Royal ritual was re-read as future promise.<\/p>\n
After the resurrection of Jesus, his followers began to re-read the Hebrew scriptures in light of his gospel. Searching the Hebrew scriptures, the authors of the Christian scriptures drew upon the psalms more than any other book, with the exception of the prophet Isaiah. This reinterpretation was used to develop two major themes: Jesus’ exaltation and his sufferings.<\/p>\n
Just as their ancestors re-read the Royal Psalms to refer to a future Messiah, the authors of the Christian scriptures now applied them to the One who they believed had fulfilled that role. In the baptism and transfiguration scenes of the gospels, the voice from heaven identifies Jesus as God’s Son. This is clearly a re-reading of Ps 2:7. The author of Hebrews is even more explicit in his use of this same verse. For when he wishes to show Jesus’ superiority over the angels, he quotes Ps 2:7 directly: “For to which of the angels did God ever say, ‘You are my Son; today I have begotten you’?” (Heb 1:5).<\/p>\n
The second theme which Christians re-read into the psalms was Jesus’ passion. Psalm 22 was particularly useful to the early church in understanding Jesus’ crucifixion. Both Mark and Matthew place the first verse of this psalm on Jesus lips just before he dies: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34; Matt 27:46). Moreover, the evangelists use Ps 22 to gather details for the scene at Calvary. Matthew has those who mock Jesus on the cross quote verse eight (Matt 27:43). From verse 18 (“They divide my clothes among themselves, and for my clothing they cast lots.”) all of the gospels describe the soldiers casting lots for Jesus’ garments. John is even more explicit by actually quoting the verse of the psalm (John 19:23-24). All of the evangelists describe Jesus being given vinegar to drink. This is drawn from Ps 69:21, “They gave me poison for food, and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.” Again John emphasizes the use of the psalm when he tells us that Jesus acknowledged his thirst, “to fulfill the scripture” (John 19:28).<\/p>\n
Many additional re-readings could be added to those cited above. Those mentioned here, however, illustrate that the re-reading of older texts in light of new events was a practice common within both the Hebrew and Christian scriptures.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
The Validity of Re-reading Older Texts<\/strong><\/h3>\n
Now that we have established that the practice of re-reading older texts exists, how can it be justified? Let’s begin with a contemporary example. On the first anniversary of the September 11th<\/sup> attacks on the World Trade Center, a solemn ceremony was held at ground zero. As part of that commemoration, Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address was read. Here a text which was 139 years old was re-read in a new context. Clearly there were parts of the address which fit poorly into the new setting. The United States was no longer “four score and seven years” old, nor were we “engaged in a great civil war.”<\/p>\n
However, other phrases from the address proved to be profoundly relevant and meaningful. The words, “We are met here on a great battlefield of that war,” assumed an eerie new meaning when spoken in the emptiness which the twin towers once filled. The sentence, “The brave men, living and dead, who struggled, here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract,” shifted its meaning from soldiers at Gettysburg to men and women\u2014fire fighters, police, and victims\u2014who gave themselves for others in New York. As the address continued, Lincoln’s words moved from description to motivation: “It is for us, the living, rather to be dedicated here to the unfinished work they have, thus far, so nobly carried on . . . .that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain.” With that move, new listeners felt their hearts strengthened to face the upcoming struggle against terrorism. An old text spoke new meaning in a new context. Both text and context were enlarged by the re-reading.<\/p>\n
This example shows that if the re-reading of an older text is to be valid, both the difference and the continuity between the text and its new context must be maintained. In the re-reading of the Gettysburg Address, the history of the text was preserved. There was no implication that the text was contemporary. No one supposed that Lincoln foresaw the tragedy of September 11th<\/sup> and sought to address it. Thereby the difference between text and context was upheld. At the same time, a continuity between text and context was made obvious. The national struggle, death, sacrifice, freedom, and resolve which Lincoln knew reinforced and expanded those same realities in our time, giving them a connection to American tradition and identity. It was of immense importance that the text was a part of American history. A re-reading of the same words, had they been spoken by the emperor of Japan, would not have been as effective. Because Lincoln was an American president and Gettysburg was an American battlefield, the continuity with an American tragedy was amplified.<\/p>\n
When Christians read the psalms, we are re-reading old texts in a new context. We are re-reading Jesus into Hebrew prayer. If we wish that re-reading to be valid, both the difference and the continuity between text and context must be honored. We must not forget the psalms’ historical character. They are historically not Christian prayer but Jewish prayer. We should not imagine that Jesus has been “hidden” in the psalms by the authors who foresaw his coming and chose not to mention it.<\/p>\n
At the same time, a clear continuity between these Hebrew prayers and the Christian reader is what validates a Christian re-reading. The God to whom the psalmist prays is not a foreign God to Christians but the One God who we believe is the Father of Jesus. The saving action of this God which the psalms extol in the Exodus and the return from exile is, from a Christian perspective, continued in the death and resurrection of Jesus. The perfect king for whom the psalmist longs is, for Christians, Jesus who we call Messiah. We can validly claim a continuity between the psalm text and our Christian context because we claim a continuity between Jewish history and Christian history, between the God of Abraham and the God of Jesus, between the hope of Israel and our own hope.<\/p>\n
Christians must never minimize the difference between the Psalms and Christianity. We must never appropriate these prayers, as if they are our own. The Psalms remain forever the Songs of Israel, Jewish in their origin and nature. Yet Christians can re-read the psalms from our own context. For as long as we recognize our continuity with Israel, our Christian re-reading is an enlargement rather than a replacement of God’s covenant with the Jews. As the Jewish psalmist praises God’s beauty, goodness, and truth, we can validly re-read Jesus in his words. But we do this not because we believe the psalmist recognized Jesus in his prayer, but because, in the light of who he is for us, we see Jesus wherever God’s beauty, goodness, and truth appear.<\/p>\n
<\/div>\n
\n<\/div>\n<\/a>Breaking the Silence: Engagement for Spiritual Growth<\/h1>\n
Silence destroys relationships. People who are fortunate enough to have intimate relationships in their lives know that nothing damages those bonds more that the end of communication. After an argument or hurtful remark, a deadly silence can settle in. Wounded souls can co-exist in the same living space, refusing to acknowledge each other’s presence. If the void continues, the estrangement deepens. Healing and reconciliation are required if shared life is to be restored. Yet reunion is not possible until someone is willing to speak.<\/p>\n
Sometimes that silence can build into an overwhelming obstacle, a palpable barrier that holds life back. There might be some small talk, some chatter about the details of living. But to engage in true dialogue seems too risky. For to address the other directly would release a torrent of complaints and hot emotions which would throw life into turmoil and, more importantly, reopen hearts to be hurt again. So people end up trapped, walled into a voiceless void, unable to summon the courage to break the silence.<\/p>\n
The escape from such a prison occurs when we choose to push through the barrier and address the other. Simple words such as, “We need to talk,” or, “This has to stop,” are an act of faith, a willingness to throw ourselves back again into the hurt and misunderstanding without knowing what will result. Often such words emerge from our desperation, from the knowledge that the risk of communication, however uncertain, has become less painful than the silence which is killing us.<\/p>\n
Psalms push through the barrier of silence. Most of the psalms are not descriptions of<\/em> God, or accounts about<\/em> God, but cries to <\/em>God. When a psalm is prayed sincerely it breaks the silence and takes the risk of opening communication. The most important word in the psalm is the word which addresses God. Grammatically this word is in the second person or vocative voice. Words such as “Lord” or “my God” anchor the psalm, situating it within a relationship. Often the address is a complaint, because the psalmist is in need and God seems to be absent.<\/p>\n
The most prevalent type of psalm is the one we have called the individual prayer of petition. Here the psalmist is beset by trouble, usually sickness, false accusation, or armed conflict. These evils are not viewed from some abstract angle. They are immediately related to a personal relationship. God is addressed as someone who is involved, capable, and responsive to human pleading.<\/p>\n
God is invoked in thoroughly human terms, as if God were a negligent spouse or friend. Once the silence is broken, emotions, accusations, and arguments spill forth. The personal hurt and disappointment of the one who prays is obvious: “Why, O Lord, do you stand far off?” (Ps 10:1); “How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?” (Ps 13:1); “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck” (Ps 69:1); “O God, do not keep silence; do not hold your peace or be still, O God” (83:1); “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Ps 22:1).<\/p>\n
The directness and honesty of these invocations reveal the nature not only of the psalms but also of all genuine Christian prayer. Lengthy meditations could be drawn from their power. Here, I will offer only three points for reflection.<\/p>\n
1) We must pray as the people we are. <\/em>Because prayer activates our most profound relationship, there can be no phoniness when we speak to God. We may wish to put our best foot forward, to make a good impression; but it is more important to be real than to be polite. We must stand as our real selves before God with all our warts and imperfections. The only person God can love is the person who actually exists. That is why it is better to pray as a genuine sinner than as a fake saint.<\/p>\n
Therefore, human emotions are not only acceptable but necessary in prayer. If we are angry, honest prayer will show that anger. If we are afraid, genuine prayer will not attempt to dissemble courage. If we are disappointed with God’s care for us, real prayer will let that disappointment show. Of course, prayer has the power to transform us. But that process can only take place if we begin with what is real, with the person who we really are. It is then that God can touch us and reshape us.<\/p>\n
2) Honesty indicates intimacy.<\/em> The strong <\/em>feelings and recriminations which fill the psalms may seem out of order when one addresses the creator of the universe. But their extensive presence within the psalms is not an indication of disrespect but rather of intimacy. It is only when we are close to God and cherish that intimacy that we will pray what we really feel. We are polite to strangers; we are brutally honest with those on whom our survival depends. When we have been hurt in a close relationship or disappointed in another’s behavior towards us, it may take courage to speak. But when we do address the person whom we love, it is not courteous chatter which emerges but utter honesty: “You have let me down; why did you do that?”<\/p>\n
The opposite of love is not hate. It is indifference. We do not waste our energy on people who are unimportant to us. Strong emotions, even negative ones, indicate that we care enough to feel. Only a deep relationship can risk such raw passion. Only intimacy will accept such truth.<\/p>\n
3) God adjusts to our limitations.<\/em> There is no parity in our relationship with God. God is creator; we are creatures. God is pure spirit; we are flesh and blood. God is without limitations; we are bounded by sickness, failures, and death. According to the great theologians of our tradition, God is totally other. God knows all things, even the future. From this theological tradition there is no need for prayer, no need for us to ask God for anything. God knows what we need before we ask it and has already decided to save us in a way that is frequently beyond our imagining. Our prayers can affect no change in God, because God is perfect, beyond our power to persuade or influence. This is the God of the theologians.<\/p>\n
How different is the God of the psalms! This God is constantly invoked, cajoled, and even questioned by the psalmist. God is addressed as one who will respond as humans do. In most psalms of petition the psalmist is quick to inform God of the exact need which must be addressed. The psalmist does not shrink from bargaining with God or appealing to God’s pride. Unlike the God of the theologians, the God of the psalms is addressed in the same way we would address any human from whom we sought a favor.<\/p>\n
It is impossible to completely reconcile the God of the theologians and the God of the psalms. But I would suggest that what we find in these inspired songs of Israel is a God who is willing to accommodate the divine nature to the human condition. In the psalms the One who is totally Other is willing to be addressed in a manner which we can understand. God assumes the qualities of a human partner. This move is not only humbling but necessary. For unless God chooses to become like us, any attempt we might make towards prayer or relationship would prove fruitless. In this way the God of the psalms foreshadows the incarnation, that definitive act of love by which God assumed a human nature in Jesus. In our dealing with God, the need is always the same: we can never relate to God on God’s level, so God must always choose to relate to us on ours.<\/p>\n
Given this act of accommodation on God’s part, we should not hold back from using it. When we are in need and God seems absent, when evil attacks and God does not save us, we should not bite our lip and hold in our frustration. We should take the risk and speak to God with all the honest emotion that would characterize an intimate human relationship. We should break the silence and pray.<\/p>\n