This psalm is for anyone who is currently stuck in a hole, has been so in the past, or fears finding themselves in one in the future. Foxes dig their little holes in the ground not to live there, but to store food, raise their babies, and escape predators. The psalm raises the image of one in need of such shelter while under attack. The saying that there are no atheists in foxholes has generated alternative quips. “There are no atheists in foxholes” is not an argument against atheism; it is an argument against foxholes (James K. Morrow). I take this to suggest that we must never allow ourselves to be in a situation where we need a foxhole. Another quip: The sermon was based on what he claimed was a well-known fact, that there were no Atheists in foxholes. I asked Jack what he thought of the sermon afterwards, and he said, “There’s a chaplain who never visited the front.” (Kurt Vonnegut) I take this to suggest that if one is in such a situation where one needs a foxhole, one is so desperate that belief in God becomes impossible. Here is another quip. Maybe there are only atheists in foxholes. If the faithful truly and fully believe in a protective deity, why would they dive into a foxhole to protect themselves from the bullets whizzing by? A part of their brain knows da*n well that if they do not protect themselves, the bullets will hardly discriminate between those who claim faith and those who reject it (J. Anderson Thomson).
The superscription Of David is not necessarily historical, although themes like refuge in the Lord, enemies, war, sacrifices, tents, singing and making melody, the faithful servant could be so. We find the general constellation of ideas found in the psalm in many places in the OT (e.g., Exodus 15; II Samuel 22 = Psalm 18; Psalms 62; 89; 118; Isaiah 12:2; etc.), anchoring this psalm firmly in the thought-world of traditional Israelite religion. The poet has no fear of enemies in the protective refuge of the temple.
Psalm 27: 1, part of a segment that extends to verse 6, are a testimony expressing trust in God that allows him to face the future calmly. The words came from an experience of hard struggle, but also experiencing the help of God. The statement of confidence comes out of a mature walk of faith. His confidence is stirring. He does not just put on a brave face, but lets this confidence break out in glad worship, singing, and shouts of joy. Verses 1-3 are an affirmation of faith in God. The Psalmist takes a stand on religious experience. He begins by reflecting upon differing aspects of the great power of the Lord in being his light, help, and stronghold. 1 The Lord is my light, a phrase unique to this passage,[1] but consistent with Micah 7:8 affirming that the Lord will be “my light,” having the sense of a beacon to safety, and my salvation, found much more frequently in the OT (especially in the Psalter and the book of Isaiah). Although the word salvation has strong theological overtones to modern hearers, the root meaning is simply “help” (as the JPS translation renders the possessive form here, “my helper”). Whom shall I fear? The writer challenges us to make a choice between faith and fear. We do not have to go far to find something to fear. We know we are vulnerable to physical illnesses, emotional distresses, relational breakdowns, economic stresses, and spiritual crises. The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid? This opening verse sums up the personal experience that enables the psalmist to face new dangers. The Lord means everything to him, so he is free of dependence on the purely human. Evildoers who attack him stumble. Even if an army surrounds him, he will not fear. When we choose faith over fear, we receive the assurance of God’s power and presence through all the challenges of life. We then have a portion of the psalm that, if not from David, is inspired by the folklore of David.
4 One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life. This could refer to heaven, although a reference to the Temple is natural, hoping for the benefit of visiting the temple on pilgrimages throughout his life. He seeks to behold the beauty of the Lord. This may refer to beholding such beauty after his death. [2] The decisions we make regarding truth will find expression in the way we live our lives. The way we live our lives is a statement of what we think of as the good life. To recognize, however, that what we truly desire is beauty suggests a deeper reflection. Beauty has a way of subtly attracting us and gaining our attention. Beauty calls us out of ourselves and invites reflection simply for itself. Allow me to suggest that our lives are full of struggle and even ugliness. In the end, we want to believe that human life is more than the vast expanse of the universe in which life is so rare. We want to believe that human life is more than simply learning to do good things. The desire to see the beauty of the Lord looks beyond the evidence our lives present to us. Granted, if we have eyes to see, beauty is present all along our lives. Beauty is present every day. Yet, we must also admit that much falsity, evil, and ugliness are present as well. The longing to see the beauty of the Lord is a longing for an end that affirms the best of human life. He also seeks to inquire in his temple. He is using the technical term for seeking a priestly or prophetic oracle. We know that oracular divination was standard practice in the religions of the ancient Near East, including Israel’s, and that such devices as the Urim and Thummim (Exodus 28:30; Leviticus 8:8; Numbers 27:21; I Samuel 28:6) were used alongside other forms of seeking the divine will, such as dreams and prophetic utterance. He wants worship that centers upon the Lord. The gentleness, charm, and lifelike character of these words make the psalmist a hero of the faith, among the greatest in history.[3] The Lord has become the purpose of his life in a new way. Much of human life is a matter of wrestling with a reliable basis for our lives. Such wrestling generates a certain degree of anxiety just beneath the surface of our lives. Occasionally, the anxiety shouts at us. The reliable basis of life and the decision we make regarding it is our struggle with truth. 5 For he will hide me in his shelter (pavilion, sukkah) in the day of trouble; he will conceal me under the cover of his tent. The shelter and cover refer to the sanctuary in Jerusalem. He will set me high on a rock, a military reference. 6 Now my head is lifted up above my enemies all around me, a military reference, an ancient sign[4] of renewed vigor or confidence (Psalm 24:7), and I will offer in his tent sacrifices of thanksgiving, a standard part of the sacrificial system, with shouts of joy; I will sing and make melody to the Lord. He vows to give his entire life to the Lord in anticipation of answered prayer. The references to the “tent” of the deity are unusual in the context and not altogether a smooth transition to a new thought. Prior to Solomon’s construction of the Jerusalem temple, the earthly dwelling place of the Lord for Israel was the tabernacle, a portable tent-like structure from the days of Israel’s wilderness experience. But the tabernacle did not continue in service after the construction of the temple — the “holy of holies” replaced it — which suggests that the tent being referred to here is military rather than sacral.
Psalm 27: 7-9, a segment that extends to verse 14, suggest the external circumstances and the poet's inward attitude are so different from verses 1-6 that they must have different authors. His enemies and the family deserting him, he seeks the Lord as his only help. He expresses simple and sincere honesty. The prayer is out of a contrite heart. The personal attitude of the psalmist comes through clearly, different from most laments. He seeks the Lord, worried that the Lord will abandon him. Verses 7-8 are the invocation. 7 Hear, O Lord, when I cry aloud, be gracious to me and answer me! The petition for a hearing is customary, but the inclusion of an invocation of the mercy of the Lord implies guilt that leads him to searching self-criticism, surrendering himself to the grace of God. The affliction torments him, in that he brought it on himself, but he seeks God in prayer anyway. Our experience of guilt is our recognition that we have fallen short of what we believe to be goodness. The psalmist had the Torah to teach him what is good. However, people without Torah, without knowledge of revelation from the God of Israel and the Father of Jesus of Nazareth, also experience guilt. It reflects the presence of conscience that involves our personal sense of right and wrong. 8 “Come,” my heart says, “seek his face!” Your face, Lord, do I seek. He has remembered the word, "seek ye my face" in Ex 23:17, 34:23, Amos 5:4, Dt, Jer, Zech, Ps 50. 9Do not hide your face from me. Do not turn your servant away in anger, you who have been my help. The language is highly anthropomorphic and is drawing from royal ideology, in which the sovereign granted initial royal favor merely by directing the royal visage in the supplicant’s general direction. This is the underlying image in the Aaronic blessing of Numbers 6:24-26 (“the Lord make his face to shine upon you … the Lord lift up his countenance upon you”). It is uncertain to what extent solar imagery may lie even further in the background of such language. Do not cast me off, do not forsake me, O God of my salvation! Guilt marks his entreaties. He faces the righteousness and power of God, which put intense pressure on him. He turns to God despite his sin, for there can be no help apart from God.
[1] Although light is frequently ascribed to the deity (e.g., Numbers 6:25; Job 37:15; Psalms 4:6; 44:3; 89:15; 90:8 — all using the expression “the light of your countenance”; Isaiah 2:5; and especially Psalm 50:2, “God shines forth”).
[2] Dahood
[3] Weiser
[4] The image of the head being lifted up as a sign of (renewed) vigor or confidence is very ancient, being found in the Baal epic from the literature of the 14th-century B.C. in Ugarit, one of Israel’s closest (and perhaps most religiously influential) neighbors
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