Psalm 66 is a communal thanksgiving and lament offered at some point prior to exile. The person who wrote the psalm was affluent and is fulfilling his vows in the Temple and recounts his experience.[1] Two separate psalms may have come together to form this psalm. The difference is readily apparent in the shift in perspective from the group (the use of the first-person plural pronoun in vv. 6 and 8-12), to the individual (with the singular pronoun used consistently in the balance of the psalm). It begins and ends with praise, surrounding passages of communal and individual thanksgiving. Is it a praise to God for return from exile and the rebuilding of the temple? All peoples of the world witnessed this event, which redounds to the praise of God.
The superscription has To the Leader. A Song. A Psalm (mizmor).
Psalm 66: 1-12, are a hymn extolling the majesty of God and miraculous saving deeds. It offers praise. The psalm begins with the worshipper being part of the annual festival of the Lord, from which he borrowed the first part of the liturgy. That is the framework of the worshipper's own offerings, and he recited personal thanksgiving. The poet catches his own cause up in the salvation history of the people. Some scholars think of verses 1-9 as the pre-exilic core of the psalm.[2] Verses 1-4 reflect what the congregation has experienced in worship, singing praises to God and offering back what is due him, the whole world worshipping God. Here is universal acclamation for God for the deliverance of Israel. 1 Make a joyful noise (ru 'a means to make a noise -- in alarm, distress, anger or joy; context determines the verb's meaning) to God (the imperative form occurring in 98:4 and 100:1, but with slight variation in 47:1 ("Shout to God with loud songs of joy"), 81:1 ("Shout for joy to the God of Jacob") , 95:1-2 ("Make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation,"), 98:6 ("Make a joyful noise before the King, the LORD"). The Hebrew means to raise a noise by shouting or with an instrument; here we shout out to God with joyful praise (the contemporary colloquial "give a shout out to" likewise means to acknowledge someone with respect or to thank someone publicly). The congregation is to make this joyful noise with all the earth (ordinarily means the human inhabitants of the known world. Only rarely are the nonhuman components of creation included in explicitly religious praise (e.g., Psalm 98:8, "Let the floods clap their hands // let the hills sing together for joy," and Isaiah 55:12, "The mountains and hills before you shall burst into song // and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands"). The theme of universal acclaim of the Lord for his mighty acts on behalf of Israel is a biblical trope (e.g., I Kings 8:42; Isaiah 2:2, 3 = Micah 4:1, 2; Isaiah 35:2; Psalm 77:14), but the degree to which that notion constitutes a type of proto-universalism remains debated. 2Sing (zamar, this imperative is parallel to make a joyful noise) the glory of his name; give (this imperative is parallel to make a joyful noise) to him glorious praise. 3 Say to God (Elohim), “How awesome (nora’ is a participle of the verb often meaning to fear or revere) are your deeds! The phrase is unique and peculiar. Ordinarily, the psalmist urges a supplicant to tell others of the mighty acts of God or to recount them to himself or herself.[3] Because of your great power, your enemies cringe before you. 4 All the earth worships you. Most scholars think of this as religious hyperbole rather than affirming a form of crypto-Judaism in all the religions of the world. They sing (zamar) praises to you, sing praises to your name.” Selah, a term that may divide sections of this psalm.Verses 5-7 suggest God is not a mystery. The poet invites the world to consider the acts of God, which are epitomized by splitting of the sea during the exodus and the drying up of the Jordan when the Israelites entered the promised land. The parallelism between sea and Jordan in Psalm 114 suggests that river refers to the Jordan. The exodus-conquest theme may hint at the theme of the return from exile and re-entrance to Judah. 5 Come (halach) and see what God has done (see John 1:39, 46; 4:29). We find here an explanation for the acclaim offered by the psalmist. To what degree this movement denotes actual spatial movement in this context is difficult to say. It may be that the psalmist does have geographical Israel in mind as the destination, or, more likely, the temple, where those who worship would regularly recount the magnalia Dei as part of normal worship. He is awesome (nora’ is a participle of the verb often meaning to fear or revere) in his deeds among mortals (bene 'adam, a word especially common in wisdom literature and later literature influenced by the wisdom tradition. The singular form translated "mortal," occurs 87 times in the book of Ezekiel, one of the latest prophetic books.) 6 He turned the sea of reeds into dry land; they passed through the river Jordan on foot. We can see here the early nature of this part of the psalm. Thus, it is possible the movement the psalm wants to see refers to a shrine near Gilgal, the site of the Israelites' crossing of the Jordan into Canaan (Joshua 3:14-17), and that the psalm served as a type of ritual libretto for a regular reenactment of that seminal event in Israel's history (which parallels, here, the reference to the crossing of the Sea of Reeds. There we rejoiced in him, 7who rules by his might forever, whose eyes keep watch (on wary alert) on the nations (goyim, nations, peoples, Gentiles, heathens) who might try to exalt themselves against God. This idea is especially common in the later strata of biblical literature (e.g., Ecclesiasticus 15:19; 17:15, 19; 39:19), and this is one of the several subtle linguistic clues that this psalm may be both late and influenced by wisdom circles. Let the rebellious (sarar[4]) not exalt themselves. Such a phrase would normally take Israel as its subject in either the singular (the nation as a whole) or plural (individual Israelites, e.g., Proverbs 7:11). If so, it would not refer to foreigners or outsiders, so "rebellious" here would not mean those who do not share Israel's Yahwistic faith. It means those Israelites who have taken upon themselves the obligations of the covenantal relationship but who refuse to honor those moral and religious obligations. Selah God has revealed the name in saving history, especially in the Exodus. The reciting of what God has done in the history of the people of God catches the people up into that history. The allusion is to God's making a way through both sea and river after the exodus from Egypt, then later crossing the flooded Jordan into the Promised Land (Exodus 14-15; Joshua 3:14-17). The psalmist now shifts attention from Israel to the nations, who should praise the God of Israel who has not let the people of God perish: 8 Bless our God[5], O peoples, let the sound of his praise be heard. With the deity as the object of the verb “bless,” the point consists in three things: 1) praising the deity publicly, as here ("let the sound of his praise be heard"); 2) making temple offerings (as in vv. 13, 15); and 3) Israelites, individually and as a people, remaining loyal to their covenant obligations (e.g., Deuteronomy 7:9, 12). In verses 9-12, the way to salvation is not easy. There is also God’s judgment in the history of the people, bringing sin to light. The history of suffering is also a history of God's grace. They praise God for the preservation of the people of God, 9 who has kept us (literally “our soul (naphshenu)”) among the living (a phrase that occurs elsewhere in late biblical literature, e.g., Tobit 10:4; II Esdras 7:46). This use of nephesh implies no distinction between body and soul; such a dualistic notion of the human being is a Hellenistic import into Israelite thought, and although this psalm is late, it does not appear to be that late. Some Christian traditions call this a "resurrection psalm," using it in the Easter liturgy, mainly because of this affirmation. God has not let our feet slip. Here is an example of synonymous parallelism with the previous phrase. God has allowed Israel to survive numerous trials, starting with the most dramatic, the deliverance at the Sea of Reeds. An Elohistic editor seems to have added verses 10-12. The writer briefly elaborates on the history of the tribulations of Israel. A recent event in which Israel has been threatened but delivered from harm parallels the exodus. This may be a reference to the exile, expressed in terms of the exodus from Egypt, the arduous trek through the wilderness, and the crossing of the Jordan. 10 For you, O God, have tested (the Hebrew denotes assaying precious metals or examining/putting to the test) us; you have tried us as silver is tried. 11 You brought us into the net; you laid burdens on our backs, showing that the refining process is arduous but purifies that which is refined; 12 you let people ride over our heads; we went through fire and through water. The writer concludes by returning to the original theme: yet you have brought us out to a spacious place,[6] referring to the Promised Land. We are in good times when God brings us to a spacious place. Thus, we rejoice that God has kept us alive and on a sure footing. God has tried us, as in purifying silver; our "trial by fire," involved others subjecting us to their rule for a period. But now God has delivered us and "brought us to a place of abundance"
Most of us know the experience of awe to which verses 3 and 5 refer. If you have been to the Grand Canyon, you know. If you have witnessed the power of hurricane, you know. If you have heard the “Hallelujah Chorus” done well, you know. If you have been in the presence of a human being you view as great, you know. I knew something of that feeling reading an exceptionally good biography of Abraham Lincoln. I had something of that experience being in a Paul McCartney concert, seeing several generations of people in one room, seeing this now elderly man able to perform for three hours. You may have seen the night filled with stars a setting that drew your breath away. You may have had such an experience at the birth of a child. Such experiences have the power to send chills, to pause and take it all in, to even wish time could stop so that we could savor and witness the moment.
Such awe comes when the moment overwhelms us with its greatness. Yes, even if we are cowering in the presence of a roaring hurricane, we are reacting to its greatness. Our bodies react to the moment in a way that stresses the uniqueness and power of this moment.
Granted, we may find it difficult to experience awe. We may once have looked up at the stars and felt a sense of awe and wonder. Whether due to the harshness of our life experience or our scientific knowledge may deprive us of seeing the greatness that stands before us. Given the tribalism of our political discourse or the technology of smart phones that pull us toward them rather than outward toward nature and the stars, our sense of awe has diminished. The noise of the day fills our ears, drowning out the beauty of some noises that may surprise us, delight us, and lift up our spirits. Of course, we still view the experience of awe as a gift, but it may well be harder to find such experiences in our lives.
The psalmist invites to reflect upon the deeds of God with awe, fear, and reverence. The people of God are among those who gather specifically to express their awe toward God. For the psalmist, such deeds surrounded liberation from Egypt and possession of the Promised Land. For Christians, such deeds surround Jesus of Nazareth, whose life inaugurated the coming rule of God. The signs of this rule were present in the selection of the Twelve, the experience of healing and liberating signs and wonders, and the faithful witness he provided to truth. Such signs occurred because the Spirit of God abided with him. We know him as one who invited those who follow him to relate to God as their Father, and thereby live as Children of the Father. They would become a new family. We know him as one served others, as one who envisioned a community without hierarchy, who gathered desperate and opposing groups into the Twelve, and who included women in the larger circle of followers. We know him as one who gathered inaugurated the gathering of a people who would hallow the name of God, who would be an anticipation of the coming rule of God and would desire to do the will of God. We know him as one who sustains us daily with the bread of life. We know him as one who invites us to make forgiveness real in our lives, for in the end, God is merciful, compassionate, and forgiving. We know him as the one who preserves us through the tests of life and helps us to identify genuine evil in the world and deliver us from its power. We know him as one who confronted authority when it needed such confrontation, and we know him as one who submitted to them in faithfulness to God even to the point of the cross. The climax of such awesome deeds was his death for those who abandoned him and rejected him. His death for others would bring reconciliation between God and humanity, which we know as God raised him from the dead as the first fruit of the resurrection that will accompany the fullness of the rule of God. Yes, we gather in awe of this one man who has represented God to us.
The experience of such awe makes us better people. Awe is the ultimate "collective" emotion, according to research reported in The New York Times (May 24, 2015), because "it motivates people to do things that enhance the greater good." The many activities that invite us into the experience of awe "help shift our focus from our narrow self-interest to the interests of the group to which we belong." Researchers have found that people who experience more awe in their lives are more generous to strangers. They also cooperate more, share more resources and sacrifice more for others -- behaviors which enhance our life as a community.
So exactly how does this work? One answer, according to researchers, is that "awe imbues people with a different sense of themselves, one that is smaller, humbler and part of something larger." Even brief experiences with awe "lead people to feel less narcissistic and entitled and more attuned to the common humanity people share with one another." Awe reminds us that we are all small individuals, but we are part of something larger. It makes us humbler and more connected to a larger God and a larger Christian community. Our God truly is an awesome God, and we are privileged to be part of the awesome community that he has created.
So, crank up the "Hallelujah Chorus." Take a walk in the desert under a starry sky. Read a book about one of the saints of the church. Your awe will not make you feel awful. Instead, it will turn you into a better person.
"Our culture today is awe-deprived," write Piff and Keltner. "Adults spend more and more time working and commuting and less time outdoors and with other people. We forgo camping trips, picnics, and midnight skies in favor of working weekends and late at night. Attendance at arts events -- live music, theater, museums, and galleries -- has dropped over the years. This goes for children, too."
Their solution: Experience more awe. Seek out experiences that cause your body to react whether it is looking at trees or listening to great music. As Christians, our challenge is to "make a joyful noise to God" and to remember the awesomeness of God's deeds (vv. 1, 3). As we do this, we will become less materialistic, more focused on others and more generous as well. Our worship, music, and singing will give us the gift of a better relationship with God, with each other, and with the world. Such experiences may well be a taste of what we experience when we truly see the awesome deeds of God done in Jesus Christ.
[1] Dahood
[2] See C. A. Briggs, The Book of Psalms [The International Critical Commentary; Edinburgh, T. & T. Clark, 1907], v. 2, p. 87).
[3] To tell the supplicant to tell the deity how awesome his deeds are smacks of theological redundancy. It is possible the psalmist has spliced an ancient liturgical formula somewhat awkwardly into the narrative framework of the psalm.
[4] The substantive "rebellious" (which is the Qal masculine plural participle of the verb).
[5] Sounds suspiciously late, and is probably a double emendation: first from yhwh to 'elohim (simply "God") and then to `elohenu, "our God."
[6] Correcting the Hebrew, "to a saturation" on the basis of several ancient versions).
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