Psalm 121 is a pilgrim song. It has simplicity and directness of thought. It expresses great confidence in the Lord as guardian, the Hebrew root (sh-m-r) occurring six times. Jewish communities recite it in times of trouble to give comfort and assurance. It is possible that Psalm 121 was originally used in a leave-taking ceremony at a local shrine (or even a private home), from which pilgrims departed for Jerusalem with a “liturgy of blessing.”[1]
Regarding its superscription, unique among the Songs of Ascent in 120-134, this superscription says it is a song for ascents.
The psalm begins with the anxious question of the pilgrim, arising from insecurity. 1 I lift up my eyes, the phrase is a periphrasis found more than 30 times in the Bible that ordinarily means simply to look in a specific direction without having any particular purpose in mind or reason for doing so. He lifts his eyes to the hills, referring to the celestial abode of the Lord.[2] It is unclear why the poet is looking to the mountains. It could be a polemic against deities on the mountains. It could also express the attitude of the pilgrim moving toward the arresting site of Jerusalem in the Judean hills, the eagerly anticipated destination of the pilgrim. It could also be the natural look of who needs help to look up for rescue. It could be the familiar hills of everyday life. Hills have always figured prominently in human worship, and Israel was no exception to the human fascination with elevations as particular dwelling places for the divine (e.g., Psalm 99:9, “Extol the Lord our God, and worship at his holy mountain”). While hills were a constant factor of geography in ancient Israel, they were not always welcome topographical features. In addition to being difficult to farm and requiring hard labor to move goods through, the hills were sometimes hideouts for bandits or sanctuaries for those running from justice. Recall that as a young man, David had to spend time in the hills to escape the clutches of the jealous King Saul, who wanted to kill him. And while in those hills, other men joined him. The Bible describes those who rallied to him this way: “Everyone who was in distress, and everyone who was in debt, and everyone who was discontented gathered to him; and he became captain over them. Those who were with him numbered about four hundred” (I Samuel 22:2). Sinai and Zion were the two mountains of special importance in biblical religion (although the Samaritan tradition maintains Mount Gerizim as the central locus of authentic Mosaic Yahwism), and the hills scattered throughout the region of Syria-Palestine were regarded in the Deuteronomistic tradition as particularly enticing temptations for the Israelites to partake of pagan worship (e.g., I Kings 14:23; II Kings16:4; Jeremiah 2:20; 17:2.)[3] The psalmist’s gazing on the hills leads to a meditative reflection on providential care that opens with a — perhaps — rhetorical question: from where will my help come? Some biblical people had heavenly “mountaintop experiences,” such as Moses and later Elijah (on Mount Sinai/Horeb) and Jesus (with some disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration). But in the Old Testament, hills also had negative associations as sites of illicit pagan or improperly eclectic worship. In either case, the issue of where we can get help in our lives when we truly need it is an important one. Yet, the question receives a quick reply that provides a proper balance to the opening of the psalm. 2 My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth, a phrase used three times in the Songs of Ascent and twice outside them in 115:5 and 146:6 and becoming popular in post-exilic times. This psalm is remarkable for recounting the inner dialogue of the poet. The poet answers himself confidently. The Lord will be his help, removing all doubt and places the individual on a firm foundation of trust in God. If the Lord is the maker of all things, it gives additional meaning to the poet looking to the hills in appreciation for what the Lord has made. The basis for the trust is creation. It has the tone of a brief creedal affirmation, and the entire Q&A sequence of the psalm’s opening verses is reminiscent of the Q&A form of catechetical instruction. The liturgy may have required pilgrims to recite the opening pilgrim’s verses of Psalm 121 before admission to the temple court.
Verses 3-8 are a priestly response, the priest pronouncing the divine blessing. It assures the pilgrims on the way to and from Zion of the constant protection provided by God. It offers quite assurance of the presence and unconditional protection of God. The rest of the psalm offers a position of trust that responds to the anxious question at the beginning. It does so with the priest or choir answering from within the sacred space elaborated upon the pilgrim’s answer with a series of reassurances that proceed in stair-like parallelism, “in which successive verses repeat words or ideas expressed in preceding lines.”[4] Thus, “my help” in verse 2a repeats/echoes “my help” of verse 1b. “Keeps Israel” of verse 4a echoes “keeps you” of verse 3b, and “slumber” of verse 4b repeats “slumber” of verse 3b, and so on. This progressive construction will move the thought of the psalm from the smallest and most personal (represented by “foot,” v. 3) to the most expansive expression for the individual in time and beyond time (“your life” and “for evermore,” vv. 7, 8). The writer accomplishes this imagistic and theological journey in eight brief verses, attesting to the inspiration, skill, and dedication of the psalmist. Verses 3-4 polemicize against the notion often expressed in the psalms that the Lord must awake to deliver aid. Here, the Lord does not sleep. 3 He will not let your foot, functioning here as elsewhere in wisdom teaching, functions pars pro toto for the individual (cf. 91:12; Proverbs 1:15; 3:23, 26; 4:27; 25:17). The Lord shall not allow the individual to be moved,[5] a thought that finds parallel in other psalms. Those who do what is right shall never be moved (15:5). The Lord surrounds the psalmist, so he shall not be moved (16:8). Through the steadfast love of the Lord, the king shall not be moved (21:7). The Lord will sustain the righteous and not allow them to be moved (55:22). The Lord is his rock, salvation, and fortress, he shall not be moved (62:2, 6). He who keeps you (shamar), meaning to take care of, to keep watch over and to guard/protect, as in the sense of one who has an obligation to do so. In the Bible, when Abel does not show up for work one morning, and God asks Cain about it, he says, "What? Am I my brother's keeper?" We also use the word to describe someone who manages a menagerie of animals, often exotic ones. We call this person a "zookeeper." Once again, there is an unspoken sense that the zookeeper is someone who has a responsibility to provide for and to protect. This sense carries over to all such words with "keeper" embedded in them: scorekeeper, timekeeper, peacekeeper, bookkeeper, housekeeper, beekeeper, shopkeeper, innkeeper, and greens keeper. The word is used in the priestly blessing of Numbers 6:24-26 (“The Lord bless you and keep you … ”). The Lord accepts responsibility for the people of the Lord. The one who keeps them will not slumber, such an image of the vigilance of the Lord found only here. It Reminds the reader of the Old Testament of I Kings 18:27, where Elijah taunted the prophets of Baal with the notion that Baal was asleep, so that must have to yell louder. Moving to the saving history of Israel, the psalmist affirms that 4 He who keeps (shamar) Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. Based upon creation and the saving history of Israel, one can have child-like trust: 5 The Lord is your keeper (shamar or guardian); the Lord is your shade (tzel, protection), remembering the desert is a place where one can die of heat stroke, where finding shade was important. Yet, if life is like making a way through the desert, the Lord is that shade at your right hand, expressing proximity to the Lord. 6 The sun shall not strike you with sunstroke by day, nor the ancient-held belief in the harmful powers of themoon[6] by night. 7 The Lord will keep (shamar) you from all evil; he will keep (shamar) your life. 8 The Lord will keep(shamar) your going out and your coming in, meaning “in all times and places” of your daily work, from this time on and forevermore, a common phrase among the Songs of Ascent. The Lord will guide the pilgrim back home, giving a grand vision to the psalm. This all-encompassing protection is the point toward which the entire psalm has been moving. The temporal reference says the Lord always guards the individual everywhere.
Psalm 121 is one of the Bible’s most beloved expressions of deep trust in God’s care. The inspiration for numerous hymns — “I to the Hills Will Lift Mine Eyes” (the Scottish Psalter’s metrical setting of 1650), “Unto the Hills Around Do I Lift Up My Longing Eyes” (the Duke of Argyll’s setting of 1877), “Upward I Lift My Eyes” (from the prolific Dr. Isaac Watts), as well as for Felix Mendelssohn’s sublime angel trio, “Lift Thine Eyes” (from his oratorio Elijah, with libretto by his childhood friend, pastor Julius Schubring, translated into English by William Bartholomew), the psalm may have begun life as a cultic blessing or temple liturgy, but it remains a treasure of the personal piety of millions of people of faith.
In the journey of life, I could look to the hills for help. They can look so attractive. What is there? One finds there only the false idols and gods which litter human experience. Will my help come from there? No. My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. Lord, you are the one who keeps me in the hollow of your hand. When life gets so trying that I feel as if I may stumble and fall, you are the one who holds me up. You provide the shade I need from the heat of the day. You provide light even when everything seems so dark around me.
I cannot look to myself as the sole source of strength for my journey in life. When I do, my own resources fail. It is so tempting for me to rely upon me, or the people around me. Those resources eventually become empty and fail. What I need is that continual reminder: “Be strong ... in the Lord.” It is God’s strength which provides the refreshment and comfort and power that I need today. This week will be fruitless if I rely upon any other source of strength than you, O Lord.
In the shadow of your wings, I sing for joy. In the times of refreshing that you give this day, and each day, I sing for joy. I do not know what this day or what this week will bring to me. I do know that you, O Lord, will keep my going out and coming in for this time forth and forever. Amen.
[1] As Dahood describes this psalm (Mitchell Dahood, S. J., Psalms II: 51-100 [Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1970], 199).
[2] Dahood
[3] cf. also the comments on this verse of Psalm 121 in The New Oxford Annotated Bible with the Apocrypha, 1973).
[4] (Dahood, 199)
[5] (v. 3a, literally, “he will not give your foot to Mot/Death,” translated “Quagmire” by Dahood, referencing the slimy character of the underworld, from Psalms 40:2; 69:14).
[6] The epileptics healed by Jesus (Matthew 4:24; 17:15) are described as seleniazetai, literally, “moonstruck” (or struck by Selene, the moon goddess; cf. the forbidden worship of others deities, “whether the sun or the moon or any of the host of heaven” in Deuteronomy 17:3; the idea of moon-illness remains embedded in the English word “lunatic”).
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