Saturday, May 16, 2020

Psalm 66:8-20

Psalm 66:8-20
8 Bless our God, O peoples, 
let the sound of his praise be heard, 
9 who has kept us among the living, 
and has not let our feet slip. 
10 For you, O God, have tested us; 
you have tried us as silver is tried. 
11 You brought us into the net; 
you laid burdens on our backs; 
12 you let people ride over our heads; 
we went through fire and through water; 
yet you have brought us out to a spacious place. 
13 I will come into your house with burnt offerings; 
I will pay you my vows, 
14 those that my lips uttered and my mouth promised when I was in trouble. 
15 I will offer to you burnt offerings of fatlings, 
with the smoke of the sacrifice of rams; 
I will make an offering of bulls and goats. Selah 
16 Come and hear, all you who fear God, 
and I will tell what he has done for me. 
17 I cried aloud to him, 
and he was extolled with my tongue. 
18 If I had cherished iniquity in my heart, 
the Lord would not have listened. 
19 But truly God has listened; 
he has given heed to the words of my prayer. 
20 Blessed be God, 
because he has not rejected my prayer 
or removed his steadfast love from me.

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: 8-12, part of a segment that began in verse 1, 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]

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[3], 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 refined12 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,[4]referring to the Promised LandWe 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.

 

In Psalm 66: 13-20, we find a thanksgiving by a person who offers his offering and tells the congregation how God answered his prayer. The shift to the singular gives the psalm a disjointed feel. He has received help. The poet has also been led by God through judgment and been brought to salvation.  The author gives no particulars.  The person is now caught up in the divine saving history, and in fact, he has a saving history all his own! Some scholars think this portion of the psalm was part of the collection of temple liturgies.[5]

Shifting to the singular, the author says in verses 13-15 that he will bring blood sacrifices. Abundant thanksgiving sacrifices in the temple, for the psalmist can now deliver the sacrifices he vowed to bring if God would rescue him from his distress. 13 I will come into your house with burnt offerings; I will pay you my vows, 14 those that my lips uttered and my mouth promised when I was in trouble. The vow is anticipation of the expected answer to prayer. It reflects the religious consciousness of the worshipper that praise must follow deliverance, even as prayer springs from need. In this case, offerings were part of the offering of praise. He feels an obligation to pay whatever vows he had made in exchange for the deliverance he has received. Such “I do so that God will do” views could easily degenerate into a spiritual void, prompting such religious leaders as the prophets to criticize self-serving sacrifices as hollow and ineffectual. 15 I will offer to you burnt offerings of fatlings, with the smoke of the sacrifice of rams; I will make an offering of bulls and goats. Selah Offering so many animals as bloody sacrifices at least suggests some wealth. The mechanistic understanding of ancient religion, in Israel as elsewhere, is clear in many of the psalms, including this one: The supplicant promises that if the deity will deliver him or her from a current distress (illness, financial setback, domestic discord, political ruin, etc.), the person will offer a specified sacrifice ("burnt offerings of fatlings ... the sacrifice of rams ... an offering of bulls and goats," v. 15). Failure to honor such vows, in which the deity's name was invoked, may lie in the background of the prohibition against taking the name of the deity in vain ("wrongful use," Exodus 20:7). 

    The author concludes by shifting to an invitation to hear what God has done for him. He proclaims what God has done to the congregation. The experience of the poet serves as proof to all fearers of God that God hears prayers. God has listened, answered his prayer, and continued to act in steadfast love. Telling others of the goodness of God toward us is part of what it means to thank God. 16 Come and hear, all you who fear God, who are genuinely reverent toward God and practice true religion, and I will tell what he has done for me. 17 I cried aloud to him, and he was extolled with my tongue. Such prayer and praise are in parallel construction, suggesting they belong together. 18 If I had cherished iniquity (אָ֭וֶן wickedness) in my heart, the Lord (Adonai) would not have listened. 19 But truly God has listened; he has given heed to the words of my prayer. The Psalm ends with a benediction. 20 Blessed be God, as in verse 8 he invites the peoples to offer praise, because he has not rejected my prayer or removed his steadfast love (hesed) from me.


[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] Sounds suspiciously late, and is probably a double emendation: first from yhwh to 'elohim (simply "God") and then to `elohenu, "our God."

[4] Correcting the Hebrew, "to a saturation" on the basis of several ancient versions).

[5] see C. A. Briggs, The Book of Psalms [The International Critical Commentary; Edinburgh, T. & T. Clark, 1907], v. 2, p. 87).

3 comments:

  1. Does this imply it is ok or even good to bargin with God?

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    Replies
    1. I am not oriented that way, as you can imagine. However, it at least opens the door for suggesting that such an approach to prayer might be part of our relationship with God. A stage along the way?

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