Psalm 1
Psalm 1 is a wisdom psalm from the post-exilic period. The psalm occupies one of the most pivotal places in all of Scripture as the introduction to the Psalter. The Psalter begins with devotional instructions on what it takes to live a holy life. Many of us know people who are good persons in the very worst sense of the word.[1] This psalm can read like the prayer of the successful and right. It can read like a prayer for someone who has everything already worked out. Psychologically, however, persons who present a public persona as having everything all worked out often hide a shadow interior they regard as unacceptable. The more what we present to others is bright and clear, the darker the shadow within.[2] Thus, one could read this psalm as an expression of such unhealthiness. However, I am choosing a different path. Such an approach to this psalm has the ring of arrogance and the type of scoffing this psalm wants the people of God to avoid. I suggest we become critical of criticism in a way that helps us celebrate rather than protest. Some church leaders want the church to be a perpetual protest movement, usually loyal to one or another preferred subculture or tribe. Sometimes, however, people need to hear words of affirmation regarding the course they are following. This psalm reminds us of the happiness we can find in following the way God prescribed. It has a simplicity, but one that masks its difficulty. This psalm points us to the blessedness or the life of human flourishing that relies upon the Lord. Those who compiled the Psalter did not choose to begin with a psalm whose first words cited David as its author or gave instructions for musicians or singers. Rather, the whole Psalter begins with devotional instructions on what it takes to live a holy life, which will in turn lead to a happy and fruitful life. The Psalm assumes that each of us has a choice as to the kind of people we will be.
Since we are discussing wisdom in this psalm, let us remember that even our modern culture likes to formulate wisdom. Here are the Ten Commandments of a Long and Peaceful Life:
1. Thou shalt not worry, for worry is the most unproductive of all human activities.
2. Thou shalt not be fearful, for most of the things we fear never come to pass.
3. Thou shalt face each problem as it comes. You can handle only one at a time.
4. Thou shalt not cross bridges before you get to them, for no one yet has succeeded in accomplishing this.
5. Thou shalt not take problems to bed with you, for they make very poor bedfellows.
6. Thou shalt not borrow other people’s problems. They can take better care of them than you can.
7. Thou shalt be a good listener, for only when you listen do you hear ideas different from your own. It is very hard to learn something new when you are talking.
8. Thou shalt not try to relive yesterday for good or ill — it is gone. Concentrate on what is happening in your life today.
9. Thou shalt not allow frustration to bog you down, for 50 percent of it comes from self-pity and only interferes with positive actions.
10. Thou shalt count thy blessings, never overlooking the small ones — for many small blessings add up to a big one.[3]
A boy came home from school with a report card that was not very complimentary. It was a disaster, in fact. His father brought the subject up at the dinner table that evening. The boy's response was quite resourceful. He said, "Dad, we have a problem here, all right. What do you think? Is it primarily environmental or hereditary?"
Character is the fruit of personal choice‑‑and exertion. We do not inherit it from parents. We do not have it as an appendage to our birth, to wealth, or station in life. Character is the result of our endeavors to respond to the challenges of life. Character is the result and reward of "good principles sown in the course of a lifetime of virtuous and honorable action" (J. Dawes). One way to think of character is by what you are willing to do when the spotlight is turned off what you are doing, the applause has died down, and no one is around to give you credit.
This psalm makes a division between the wicked and the righteous. I would like to shift our attention toward a different type of division. We live in a politically divisive time. We get into trouble, however, when we usurp the divine prerogative and start assigning our fellow mortals to the way of the righteous or the way of the wicked. Consider, for example, a column that appeared in the Los Angeles Times after Donald Trump was no longer in office. The columnist, Virginia Heffernan, clearly not a Trump supporter, sounded flummoxed by the fact that a neighbor whom she called a “Trumpite” had just plowed her driveway without being asked and had done a great job. In trying to understand this act, which she described as “aggressive niceness,” Heffernan theorized that this generous deed was freely done because both she and her neighbors were white people in an all-white neighborhood. What is wrong with just calling it “being neighborly”? Is there any reason not to believe that a black neighbor with a snowplow might have just as generously plowed Heffernan’s drive? Neighbors come in all colors. Heffernan went on to acknowledge that she owed her neighbor thanks, but it was a parsimonious admission: “It really looks like the guy back-dragged the driveway like a pro,” she said. But she wondered “how much thanks” she was willing to give someone on the other side of the political divide. That is a lot of freight to dump on an act of kindness! Eventually, Heffernan cited a comment from Sen. Ben Sasse (R-Neb.), a never-Trump Republican, following the January 6 Capitol attack: The United States, Sasse said, “isn’t Hatfields and McCoys, this blood feud forever.” And, he added, “You can’t hate someone who shovels your driveway.” “So, here’s my response to my plowed driveway, for now,” Heffernan wrote. “Politely, but not profusely, I’ll acknowledge the Sassian move. With a wave and a thanks, a minimal start on building back trust. I’m not ready to knock on the door with a covered dish yet.” Yes, it is easy for us to take the divine perogative and divide humanity into those whom we define as good, which is our side, and the other side, which is evil. Instead of allowing experience to modify our judgment, we are often ready to cling to beliefs that no longer match experience. We may not be able to do much about the state of the political scene, but Heffernan was talking about her neighborhood. And for her, the neighbor plowing snow from her driveway was an incongruity that did not fit with the caricatures she had formed about people who voted for the candidate she did not support, and she was having trouble getting past it.
In 2002, the late columnist Charles Krauthammer, who self-identified as a conservative but was often hard to nail down to any one ideology and was widely read by liberals as well, posted a column in which he said, “To understand the workings of American politics, you have to understand this fundamental law: Conservatives think liberals are stupid. Liberals think conservatives are evil.” Krauthammer’s point was that both groups see the other as caricatures, though he did not use that term in the column. A caricature is when certain characteristics of a person or a group are exaggerated to a comic or grotesque effect. But the trouble, as Krauthammer suggested, is that both groups treat the other as though the caricature is an accurate portrayal. He said, for example, that when conservatives say liberals are stupid, they mean this “in the nicest way. Liberals tend to be nice, and they believe — here is where they go stupid — that most everybody else is nice, too. Deep down, that is. Sure, you’ve got your multiple felon and your occasional war criminal, but they’re undoubtedly depraved ‘cause they’re deprived. If only we could get social conditions right — eliminate poverty, teach anger management, restore the ozone … everyone would be holding hands smiley-faced, rocking back and forth to ‘We Shall Overcome.’” Regarding liberals’ view of conservatives, Krauthammer said, “Liberals are not quite as reciprocally charitable. It is natural. They think conservatives are mean. How can conservatives believe in the things they do — self-reliance, self-discipline, competition, military power — without being soulless? How to understand the conservative desire to actually abolish welfare, if it is not to punish the poor? The argument that it would increase self-reliance and thus ultimately reduce poverty is dismissed as meanness rationalized.” No wonder politics include so many episodes of “irreconcilable differences”! Some aspects of the current political climate suggest that those who think the other side is evil is increasing on both sides. Yet Krauthammer’s primary point remains the same: that we pigeonhole people who see things differently from us and assign them motivations that may be inaccurate or overstated. Using the vocabulary of Psalm 1, we are assuming our way is the way of the righteous, and the others’ way is the way of the wicked.
What is happening in the country is of deep concern. Hate multiplies hate. Vilence multiplies violence. Toughness multiplies toughness. The descending spiral is toward destruction. This chain reaction needs to be broken, or we shall plunge into the dark abyss of annihilation. History is cluttered with the wreckage of communities that surrendered to hatred and violence. The healing of the nation, and even the healing of divided humanity, calls us to follow a another way. We need to hear clearly in our time, and let it sink deeply into our souls, “Love your enemies.” In the 1950s and 1960s, many in the civil rights movement recognized that while segregation was abhorrent, they would love the segregationist. This love would be the only path toward beloved and just community.[4] I am not sure this generation has the equivalent type of leader on either side of the political divide.
The Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary defines magnanimity as “behaviour that is kind, generous and forgiving, especially towards an enemy or competitor.” We find this description on display in Lincoln’s life and speeches. Lincoln’s second inaugural address (March 4, 1865), which was delivered just weeks prior to his assassination (April 14, 1865), includes these words in closing: “With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation’s wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.” Certainly, Lincoln had the end of the war and reconstruction of the South in mind. One who possesses magnanimity of spirit is not petty. A person with a malicious spirit holds grudges and seeks to do harm, get even. A leader who is characterized by magnanimity will not allow personal or public grievances to get in the way of pursuing the greater good, as we find in Lincoln’s second inaugural. Lincoln looked to reconstruction of the South after the Civil War to bring about full inclusion in the union and a “just and lasting peace” not simply for the United States, but for “all nations.”
Division is not so new. What might be new is the lack of leaders willing to show magnanimity toward the opposing side. Christens need to remember this. With the Lord Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, and the Spirit’s descent at Pentecost, his followers did not seek vengeance, but repentance and forgiveness on Jesus’ behalf for the restoration of all peoples to God. They bore the fruit of Jesus’ magnanimous spirit with malice toward none.[5]
Americans have the potential of doing better. America does not have arguments; America is an argument – between Federalist and Anti-Federalist world views, strong national government and local control, liberty and equality, individual rights and collective responsibility, color-blindness and color-consciousness. We will not have consensus on much, and that might be a good thing, for those of us who like a lesser role for the federal government. We need genuine pluralism that respects the right and value of those with whom we disagree. Fighting that descends into physical intimidation of those who are neutral or on the other side is not helpful. However, fighting to make our fights more useful, honest, open to change, and more human, is a potentially productive path.[6] As Christians, we do not have the option of dodging on the love and mercy of God for some “greater” political result. We cannot isolate our political choices and actions, as if they do not reflect who we are as followers of Christ. When I look to Jesus to think about how to practice my faith in the political realm, I see no path to glory that sidesteps humility, surrender, and sacrificial love. The path of wisdom in such a political climate is living our political convictions with humility regarding our positions and with compassion that embraces my political other as a brother or sister.
The psalm begins with a contrast of two ways. We might wonder how the Lord deals with people who do not fit neatly into either category — those who are neither altogether righteous nor altogether wicked, which includes most of us — but this psalm does not tell us. Its concern is to show how readers can be Happy (‘ashrei),[7] fortunate, rich, blessed, and prosperous. Such a person has discovered what it means to live a life in harmony with God. However, becoming wise in this way takes more than a sheer acquisition of knowledge. Israelite wisdom tradition does not value knowledge for its own sake; it values wisdom, which combines piety, humility and a right reverence for God with a deep understanding and appreciation for how God intends the world to work. Think of Genesis 2, where a stream of water flows from the earth and provides for trees in the Garden of Eden. Think of Jeremiah 17, where the prophet contrasts the shrubs in the desert with the tree planted by life-giving water, always bearing fruit. Such persons are those who do not follow (halak, walk) the advice of the wicked, or take (‘amad, remain in) the path that sinners tread (derek, path) as they would offer leadership, or sit (yashav, to sit, dwell, or inhabit) in the seat (moshav, seat or habitation) of scoffers (letzim, jeering)[8], as in holding prominent office. Just as the wicked may offer their advice, and the sinner may offer leadership, the cynical and disrespectful may achieve prominent office in society. Such persons hold in contempt the value of wisdom and moral uprightness. They “know better” than what Israel has received in Torah. When we are full of self and our resources, we have no room for God. The person who is wise and hopes to become “happy” because of that wisdom will avoid such persons and associations. One way to think of this is our relationship to the culture that forms us. Today, we might need to think of our sub-culture or tribe. Some of its values may well be godly, even where it does not know it as such. Some of its values may not be so. Our happiness is in learning the difference. Wisdom develops a form of resistance when it needs to resist. Throughout the psalm, the image of traveling on the right path in life recurs. By both opening and closing the psalm with the image of the “way” the psalmist stresses that those who wish to live a life whose value will live on in the world after them must walk the life-path that God sanctions. 2 But their delight is in the law (Torah, instruction, teaching) of the LORD,[9] which is the first source for acquiring wisdom. They meditate (hagah, recite, utter[10]) on divine law day and night. The focus upon Torah, or for the Christian, the Word of God as a faithful witness to the revelation of God in Israel and in Jesus Christ, is the path that helps us to maintain ourselves as the people of God in distinction from our tribe. Genuine flourishing, blessing, and joy are not in the values of the culture or tribe in which we find ourselves. Virtue is a state of character gained by repeatedly performing good actions.[11] Virtue is an acquired excellence of character that renders a person capable over the long haul of behaving in certain reliable ways.[12] Thus, the law is a source of joy for it reveals the will of the Lord. Without the event of revelation of Torah, which means God’s “teaching” (from the Hebrew verb yrh, “to teach”), one cannot be wise. Psalm 1 joins several other OT passages that contrast righteous(ness) and wicked(ness). We can find examples in Genesis 18:23 ff. and II Samuel 22:21-28 (= Psalm 18:20-27). In addition, one might also note Psalms 7:9; 11 (all); 32:10-11; 37 (all); 94:12-23 (with ’ashrei and torah in v. 12); 119:61-62. We could also see Proverbs, in chapters 10—15; 21; 28 and 29.
Sarvam-annam ("All is food") is a saying from India. Everything we eat, breathe, and take into our being through our others senses. Destructive, negative consumptions will have a destructive, negative impact on our lives. The Indian tradition recognized that mental and spiritual pollution are equally as dangerous as physical pollution.
The genuine path to happiness may be as simple as learning not to unite with those who take far too much pleasure in complaining or complaining.
Two taxidermists stopped before a window in which an owl was on display. They immediately began to criticize the way someone mounted it. Its eyes were not natural; its wings were not in proportion with its head; its feathers were not artfully arranged; and one could certainly improve its feet. When they finished analyzing the owl, the old owl slowly turned its head ... and winked at them.[13]
Maya Angelou refers to her grandmother's store in Arkansas. When someone came in and complained, the grandmother called her over and had her listen to the person complain. Then she said, "There are people who went to sleep all over the world last night, poor and rich and white and black, but they will never wake up again. Those who expected to rise did not ... And those dead folks would give anything, anything at all for just five minutes of this weather or ten minutes of that plowing that person was grumbling about. Therefore, you watch yourself about complaining. What you are supposed to do when you do not like a thing is change it. If you cannot change it, change the way you think about it. Don't complain.”[14]
3 They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper (thrive). Among the many important images for spiritual life is that of organic life, such as the growth of trees and plants. Psalm 1 contains such an image of the righteous being like trees planted by the life-giving waters. Such persons are “blessed, fortunate, rich, prosperous, and happy.” All these adjectives could be used, in the parlance of Old Testament wisdom literature, to describe the person who has discovered what it means to live a life in harmony with God. However, becoming wise in this way takes more than a sheer acquisition of knowledge. Israelite wisdom tradition does not value knowledge for its own sake; it values wisdom, which combines piety, humility and a right reverence for God with a deep understanding and appreciation for how God intends the world to work. Think of Genesis 2, where a stream of water flows from the earth and provides for trees in the Garden of Eden. Think of Jeremiah 17, where the prophet contrasts in the shrubs in the desert with the tree planted by life-giving water, always bearing fruit. John used the concept of “living water” to have Jesus describe the nurturing relationship of God to the Samaritan woman (John 4). Paul talks about living a life that is “rooted” in Christ (Colossians 2:6-7). Our willingness to root our lives in a relationship with God, a relationship characterized by obedience, is what yields true happiness and a life that yields “fruit.”
The way to a life that flourishes and bears fruit is one that has roots. You can try finding happiness or blessedness by living on the surface. Such a life is without roots and fleeting. We need lives planted well. We run the risk of being a cut-flower civilization. Yes, cut flowers are beautiful. We use many means to keep such flowers looking fresh for a while. However, they will die because they no longer have any roots. The root sustains the beauty of the flower.[15] Any landscaper can tell you that in transplanting a tree, the root is the most important part. The rootball must stay tightly packed and moist. It must get into the right kind of soil and at the right depth. All kinds of damage to the trunk, branches or leaves can happen in the journey, but the tree will survive if the roots are intact. It will recover and grow. Planting a tree by a stream of water suggests it has found the best possible place. The tree will drink from life-giving water. Not even a drought can keep it from flourishing. In order to find such a place, we may have to leave our place of comfort. When we find a such a place, we will increasingly discover who we are. We are not just the spouse of someone, the parent of others, a profession, the member of a religion, or what we do. The journey of self-discovery makes all the difference. Strip away the layers that we have carefully built, along with their labels, titles, and definitions, and what is left? When we are that tree planted by streams of water, we discover who we are. Happy are those who plant themselves by such rivers. Their lives will yield much fruit.
Auguste Rodin once said, “The world doesn’t lack beauty of life, only the eyes to see it.” Or, we might add, the desire to dig for it. Take the beauty of trees, for example. While many artists in North America are looking upward and painting the fiery beauty of autumn leaves this time of year, in China an artist named Fang Peichun is out in the forest looking down, crawling on his hands and knees, looking for beauty in the tangle of tree roots. Fang, you see, is a root-carver [google root carving and see several images to display at this point], following an ancient Chinese tradition of coaxing art from a part of the natural world that everyone else ignores. Out there in the forest, Fang sees hidden beauty where others see dirt. “The period of searching for tree roots is the most exciting part for me,” says the energetic old man. “Sometimes I even dream of finding some tree roots in strange shapes and have some illusions.”Fang has been carving roots for more than 50 years. He began his obsession with roots when, as a boy, he encountered a farmer who had just dug up a knotweed tuber, which Fang immediately envisioned as being formed in the shape of a child. Fang tried to buy the root from the farmer, but the old man, being superstitious, believed that eating the root would enable him to live forever. Still, Fang began to see the potential for beautiful images coaxed from the most utilitarian part of the tree.
While other kinds of art are subjective and are usually created out of the artist’s own vision, tree root art requires a more deductive approach with the final image taking its cue from the natural shape of the root. Root carving is thus a cooperative effort — a combination of “man’s work and God’s work,” according to Fang. No two roots are alike; thus, every discovery of a new root yields new possibilities and different pictures to imagine. One of his favorite works is the “Bathing Beach” with several women resting on a root-made beach. In the middle, a young couple lies against a rock, while another girl is ready to jump in the water; to the right, an old man sits on the beach, in thought. Another work titled “Happy” depicts a long-haired woman bathing, her arms and legs stretched elegantly. Other works depict animals, historical figures and even written Chinese characters like “Shou” which means “long live” in Mandarin.
Root art is a reminder to us that often it is the things beneath the surface, the hidden yet practical things that are most important. While fruit trees yield a harvest of food, maples and oaks provide autumn glory, and evergreens yield a harvest of wood for building, none of them can do so without the foundational and functional support of a good root system. It’s the beauty of rooted-ness that makes it all possible.
While trees live or die depending upon their roots, we, too, live and die according to how rooted we are in the things that matter. Being rooted spiritually is a thing of beauty, which is the essential message that kicks off the piece of art known as the Psalms.
4 The wicked are not so, but are like chaff that the wind drives away. A simple gust of wind can blow away chaff. Jeremiah 17:6-7 says they are like shrubs in the desert that do not see relief and no longer bear fruit. The temptation might be to look upon people who seem to have it all in terms of wealth, popularity, and power with envy for them, as Psalm 37:7 and 73:3 remind us. In fact, all too often, life will bring down such persons. The wicked will not leave a significant mark on the world after them. Their existence is tenuous and once they die, we find no sign of them. 5 Therefore the wicked will not stand in the judgment, or sinners in the congregation of the righteous. If their lives are on the surface, they will not withstand judgment from the Lord. What we need for human flourishing, happiness and blessedness is to have a life properly rooted and grounded. Like the roots of a tree, the source of such a life is real, but hidden below the surface. Such a life has its roots in a relationship with God in which we accept the guidance that God gives for the way we live. Such a life acknowledges its dependence upon the Lord. It will also not allow adverse circumstances or challenges to carry it away. After all, 6 the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish. The Lord watches over such a life. Such a life is beautiful in the eyes of the Lord. The world does not lack beauty, but lack human beings who have the eyes to see it.[16]
This psalm and other wisdom writings that describe a holy life as a “way or path” is the background to the gospel image of Christ as the way (John 14:6). By describing Christ as “the way,” John connects faith in Jesus with Torah faith, Israelite wisdom traditions and the entire value system on which those concepts rest, implying that unlike the purely intellectual philosophies of late antiquity, Christianity offers real wisdom/Truth which leads to eternal life by following God’s Way.
Here are a few practical applications of this psalm.
First, you can try to find happiness by living on the surface. Such a life is rootless and fleeting. Rather than gaining true happiness and prosperity, the wicked are “like chaff” that gets blown away in the wind while the good seed remains (Psalm 1:4). We have all seen people who have had it all, done it all, reached the pinnacle of worldly prosperity, yet their lives “wither” when confronted with an ultimate crisis. Jeremiah 17:6-7 says they are like shrubs in the desert that do not see relief an no longer bear fruit. Do not be like them, says the psalmist. In fact, one of the major themes of the psalms concerns not being envious at the apparent prosperity of the wicked (Psalm 37:7; 73:3). Their prosperity does not last and their lives cannot hold up to God’s judgment. Without roots to grow on, the wicked eventually “perish.”
Second, you can seek happiness by being properly rooted and grounded. The prosperity of the righteous, by contrast, is very real but hidden below the surface, in the roots of a relationship with God. When we have that kind of relationship with God, a relationship based on trust and a recognition of our dependence on God vs. our own sinful independence, we are not carried away by the winds of adverse circumstances or challenges to our faith. When we are rooted in God, God “watches over” our way (v. 6). It is the roots that stay, not the leaves that blow away, that are beautiful in God’s eyes.
I would note some misconceptions of “tree root systems.” One is that roots extend only to the dripline (the extent of the branches). Roots can extend four to seven times past the dripline of the tree. The other misconception is root depth. Roots require water, oxygen, minerals, support, and warmth, usually found in the upper few feet of soil, rarely growing below four feet. It explains why a strong wind can easily disturb a tree.[17]
Here is an example, one of which I am sure many of you have heard or read. The mighty redwood trees of California’s Sequoia National Park are the largest life-forms on Earth; yet it is a rare thing to see a redwood standing alone. This is because the roots of the Sequoia do not extend deep into the earth, as most tree roots do; they snake along just beneath the surface of the soil. So shallow are the redwood’s roots that, when a tree is young, it is easily toppled by the wind. The redwoods that survive — and that grow to such astounding heights — are the ones whose roots intertwine with those of other trees, forming a great interwoven mass of support. The storms that bluster their way through the valleys of the Sierra Nevada can work no harm on those trees: for they stand strong and tall together, in community.
What this tells me is that spiritual life is not so much about your roots going deep, so much as your roots spreading out to others. If we are not careful, we will buy into a form of individualism that will make spiritual life nothing more than “me and God,” instead of about us connecting with God through our connections with others.
Nature depends upon hidden resources. The great trees send their roots down into the earth to draw up water and minerals. Rivers have their sources in the snow-capped mountains. The most important part of a tree is the part you cannot see, the root system, and the most important part of the Christian’s life is the part that only God sees. Unless we draw upon the deep resources of God by faith, we fail against the pressures of life.[18]
Bottom line is that when it comes to spiritual matters, it is usually the unseen and unpretentious practices that we engage in that make up the raw root material that God, the master artist, can shape to his image of life for us. When we study Scripture, meditate on it, obey God’s commandments even when no one is looking, when we practice daily spiritual disciplines, and order our lives according to God’s priorities, God can make something spectacular and unique out of each of us.
How are you becoming more firmly rooted in your personal relationship with God? Spiritual disciplines and obedience to God involve some challenging work, some digging deep to find the life-giving roots underneath the surface.
Well, there you have it. Human beings find happiness, blessedness and flourishing as they learn the path of wisdom and righteousness. It is only easy to write this. It is not easy to live this way.
[1] Mark Twain said something like this.
[2] Carl Jung
[3] Attributed to Dear Abby.
[4] —Martin Luther King Jr., “Loving Your Enemies,” in Strength to Love (Fortress, 2010), 50.
[5] —Paul Louis Metzger, “Great Leaders Model Magnanimity, Not Malice,” Patheos.com, October 9, 2020.
[6] —Eric Liu, “Americans Don’t Need Reconciliation — They Need to Get Better at Arguing,” The Atlantic, November 1, 2016.
[7] The Hebrew term ‘ashrei, which begins the psalm, can mean “fortunate,” “rich,” “blessed” or “prosperous,” as well as “happy.” One could use all of these adjectives, in the parlance of Old Testament wisdom literature, to describe the person who has discovered what it means to live a life in harmony with God. However, becoming wise in this way takes more than a sheer acquisition of knowledge. Israelite wisdom tradition does not value knowledge for its own sake; rather it values wisdom, which combines piety, humility and a right reverence for God with a deep understanding and appreciation for how God intends the world to work.
[8] The phrase “sit in the seat of scoffers” is less clear in its meaning, but when taken along with the others it seems to imply “to share an important position in society offered to one by a disrespectful person.” The verb, means “to sit,” “dwell” or “inhabit,” and the noun from the same root, can mean “seat” or “habitation.” Therefore, this phrase could describe both the simple action of sitting and the broader concept of sharing inhabited space. This verb also, however, sometimes implies the possession of a powerful social position, such as when one is said to “sit” as the reigning monarch. So here, it most likely implies that just as one might be offered advice by the wicked, and leadership by the sinner, one might be offered prominence in society by those who are cynical and disrespectful. The person who is wise and hopes to become “happy” because of that wisdom will avoid such gifts and association with such gift givers. The word doesn’t mean generic scoffing or jeering (as, for example, at a person with a disability); it means to hold in contempt the value of wisdom and moral uprightness or what we might describe as the biblical way of life. The sense conveyed by the biblical scoffer is “I know better,” with the strong implication of self-indulgence. The etymology of the word is uncertain, although a possible Arabic cognate means “to turn aside” with the suggestion of speaking indirectly or obliquely. In a few instances, this sense of the biblical word can mean “interpreter” (Genesis 42:23, Joseph’s communications with his brothers through an interpreter) or “ambassador” (2 Chronicles 32:31).
[9] This is a theologically reductionistic rendering of the Hebrew word torah, which means “lore, instruction, teaching, guidance” as well as “law.” The habitual default translation of torah as “law” appears to be an echo of the NT’s law/faith contrast (found, for example, in Romans 3:27-28), not taking into account the fact that much of the literature designated by the word “torah” has no legal connotations whatsoever (e.g., the stories contained in Genesis, Exodus, Numbers and Deuteronomy). Of the roughly 6,000 verses that make up the first five books of the Bible (the Torah), the rabbis reckoned that there were only 613 commandments in this mass of material, or perhaps a bit over 10 percent (excluding duplicates). Leviticus, which means “priest’s manual,” is the only book among the first five devoted almost exclusively to religious legislation. “Law,” therefore, in the context of the OT in general, and, in today’s reading in particular, is much more broadly defined and understood than “law” is commonly thought of today. Compare, for example, the translation of this word in the version of the Jewish Publication Society. There, the Hebrew word torah is translated as “teaching.”
[10] To Mumble The word translated “meditate” should not be visualized as the solitary scholar silently reflecting, since the Hebrew verb hagah means “to moan, growl, utter, speak, muse.” As has often been noted by scholars, silent reading in the ancient world was virtually unknown, since the private book was equally scarce. Reading was a group enterprise, necessarily audible, and the JPS translation “studies” (with a footnote offering “recites” or “utters” as alternatives) is perhaps a closer approximation to the original.
[11] Aristotle
[12] Thomas Hibbs
[13] Anthony de Mello liked to tell the story.
[14] Maya Angelou, Wouldn't Take Nothing for My Journey Now, 1993, 85-87.
[15] The Quaker theologian Elton Trueblood spoke of the necessity of being well planted:
"The terrible danger of our time consists in the fact that ours is a cut‑flower civilization. Beautiful as cut flowers may be, and much as we may use our ingenuity to keep them looking fresh for a while, they will eventually die, and they die because they are severed from their sustaining roots. We are trying to maintain the dignity of the individual apart from the deep faith that every person is made in God's image and therefor draws life from the divine source."
[16] Auguste Rodin once said, “The world doesn’t lack beauty of life, only the eyes to see it.”
[17] Sherry Rindels (“Tree root systems,” April 1, 1992, ipm.iastate.edu/ipm/hortnews/1992/4-1-1992/treeroot.html. Retrieved April 22, 2008)
[18] —Warren Wiersbe.
No comments:
Post a Comment