The psalms are prayers; they are human responses to God. When I use the psalms, when I pray with them, I do so as a Christian. I cannot use them and pray with them in any other way. I am a Christian and, with the psalms, I am responding to God made known in Jesus Christ.

This, of course, is nothing new. Christians have used the psalms in this way since the church’s beginnings. Indeed, there are direct quotations and allusions to the Book of Psalms throughout the New Testament. The Book of Psalms and what is known as Second Isaiah (Isaiah 40-55) are used more often by far than any other part of the Old Testament by the writers the New Testament. The earliest of Christians, in trying to understand and respond to what had happened to them in Jesus Christ, turned to the psalms for help. Using the psalms in this way opened up new meanings to what they had experienced. At the same time, the psalms also took on new meanings.

In this session, we will look at two psalms, Psalm 2 and 22, which are cited at key points in the gospels.

Of the two types of psalms—hymns of praise and prayers of lament—Psalm 2 is a hymn of praise. While it differs from Psalm 105, which we discussed last week, Psalm 2 is still a response of praise to the character of God, to God’s rule over the nations. You will note, too, that it makes use of the poetic parallelism we discussed last week. Most of the verses are composed of two lines, the second of the lines expanding the meaning of the first. There are exceptions in Psalm 2; verses two and three don’t fit the schema exactly, verse six has only one line, and verse 11 is composed of four parallel lines and a fifth one that hangs out there by itself.

Scholars of the Bible see this psalm as consisting of four parts, and it is printed in your Bible in these four parts. These four parts, it is thought, make up four scenes of a kind of drama. (This is all conjecture; no one knows for sure if this schema is what the original psalmist intended.) In the first part, a speaker describes a time of turmoil and upheaval among the nations; a conspiracy of the kings of the earth against the Lord and his "anointed" one is described. In the second part, the scene shifts to heaven, to the throne room of heaven, and the response of the king of heaven to the conspiracy of the kings of the earth is described. Then, in the third section, the scene shifts back to earth and the anointed one then speaks of the divine decree regarding his kingship. In the fourth section, a speaker—perhaps the speaker in the first scene or perhaps it is the anointed one still speaking—issues a warning to the kings of the earth.

As we discussed last time, clues to the original, historical settings of the individual psalms are hard to come by. There are a few hints of a setting in Psalm 2, however. Psalm 2 is a royal psalm and was used perhaps at the coronation of a Hebrew king. No one knows which king is being crowned or if it was used perhaps in the coronations of several kings. But the coronation of a king makes sense as a setting. The time between the death of one king and the coronation of his successor could well be a time of turmoil and upheaval with the vassal kings of the king who has died tempted to throw of the bonds that tied them to the dead king. And the announcement of the divine decree, "You are my son; today I have begotten you," sounds like something that would be said about a newly crowned king. While we cannot be certain of this and cannot date the psalm, this does make some sense as an original, historical setting for Psalm 2.

This hymn of praise expresses confidence in the power of God even in the midst of turmoil and upheaval in the world. God, the king of heaven, is in control. The king of heaven laughs at the conspiracies of kings and princes and sweeps them away, even violently, and gives to the anointed one the nations of the earth as a heritage. All of which, on the face of it, is almost laughable, for neither the united kingdom, under David and Solomon, nor the kingdoms of Israel and Judah ever amounted to very much. That the kings of the earth would tremble and kiss the feet of an Egyptian Pharaoh or a Babylonian king can be imagined. It is difficult to imagine them doing so before even the most powerful of the Hebrew kings. But this is the faith expressed in this psalm. It is a confidence that has its origins in God. Indeed, it could only have its origins in God, for everything else in the world contradicted it. It is either this or those who pray with this psalm are deluding themselves.

It should be noted here that, although there are violent images of the Lord’s anointed breaking the nations with a rod of iron and smashing them like potter’s vessels, this anointed one was not to be a tyrant. The nature of this one’s rule is outlined in Psalm 72, another royal psalm:

Psalm 2 figures prominently in the gospel accounts; it is used by the writers of the gospels to make sense of what they and those earliest of Christians experienced in Jesus Christ. Indeed, the Hebrew word translated anointed one is the word messiah. Those who were crowned king had oil poured over their heads. Hence they were anointed, were messiahs. And the Greek word meaning "anointed one" is Christ. Jesus is the anointed one, according to the gospels. He is a king, a messiah.

Psalm 2 is directly quoted in the accounts of Jesus’ baptism. We will follow Mark. Here is Mark’s account of Jesus’ baptism:

The voice from heaven, the voice of God, confirms Jesus as the anointed one using the divine decree found in Psalm 2.7. It is the same voice we hear saying the same words at Jesus’ transfiguration:

Again we hear the voice of God confirming Jesus as the anointed king using the divine decree of the ancient Hebrew kings found in Psalm 2.7.

But what sort of king, or messiah, is Jesus? In the Gospel of Mark, the next time Jesus is identified as the Son of God is at Mark 15.39. Jesus breathes his last breath. Nailed to his cross and above his head is a sign that says, "King of the Jews". And a Roman centurion, a Roman soldier says, "Truly this man was God’s Son." But it would seem that Caesar is the one with the rod of iron and that Jesus is the one smashed like a potter’s vessel. Is it to Jesus that nations of the earth are given as a heritage? The earliest Christians, using Psalm 2 to understand and respond to what had happened to them in Jesus Christ, said yes. Jesus is the Christ, the Messiah.

On the face of it, this, too, is laughable. Indeed, Paul says that the cross is foolishness to the Gentiles; Caesar is in control and power resides in him. To the Jews, to those living under Caesar’s thumb, the cross is a stumbling block, says Paul. How can this one be the King of the Jews? But for Paul, the cross is the power of God. This can only be if the power of God is something altogether different from what we normally think of as power. Our idea of what is power is turned upside down.

When I think about this power of God so different, I turn to Isaiah 40. There God is described as sitting above the circle of the earth. The inhabitants of the earth are but grasshoppers. And God brings to nothing the princes and the rulers of the earth (verses 22 and 23). What does this God do? God gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless (verse 29 and 30). This is the God who raised Jesus from the dead. This God is powerful enough to care for and save those whom Caesar has forgotten and left behind.

It is difficult sometimes for me to see how this is so; there is so much that seems to contradict this. But sometimes I find myself at rest in this, even in the turmoil and upheaval of the world. The One who rules over all, the ultimate power, gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.

Of the two types of psalms, Psalm 22 is a lament. It differs from Psalm 44, which was discussed last week. (By the way, Psalm 44 is quoted directly by Paul in a very strange spot, in the last part of Romans 8. I’m not exactly sure why, but I have an idea or two. See if you can figure it out.) Psalm 22, in addition to a prayer for help (verses 1-21a), includes a description of the Lord’s deliverance of the one who prays (verse 21b) and concludes with a hymn of praise in response to that deliverance (verses 22-31). A psalm of lament, you will remember, is grounded in praise, is grounded in trust in God. This is the case in Psalm 22. In verses 3-5, God is described as enthroned on the praises of Israel. Also remember that a lament arises in painful circumstances that at least seem to contradict a person’s faith, that draw into question one’s confidence in God.

The composer of this particular psalm has three problems, to say the least. First, what is described seems to be some sort of illness; the composer’s heath is failing and he or she seems near death. We cannot be sure of this, but the animals encircling and threatening the psalmist could be a way of speaking of this illness. Second, not only is the composer’s health failing, but it seems his or her companions are also failing the psalmist. There is a company of evildoers encircling that stare and gloat and divide the psalmist’s clothing. Finally, God has forsaken the composer.

Then comes the rescue in verse 21b. The psalmist’s relationship with God is restored by the rescue. The rescue also restores the psalmist’s health. And, finally, the psalmist’s social relationships are restored. The psalmist "will tell of your name to my brothers and sisters; in the midst of the congregation I will praise you" (verse 22).

When we read the words of Psalm 22 we cannot help but think of Jesus’ crucifixion, his death on the cross. This is no accident. The words of the first verse—My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?—are on the lips of Jesus as he hangs from the cross in Mark and in Matthew. "All who see me mock me," says the psalmist, and he cannot but think how Jesus was mocked on the cross. "Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver you—let him rescue the one in whom he delights," say those mocking the psalmist. "He saved others, but he cannot save himself. Save yourself and come down from the cross," said those who mocked Jesus. Those encircling the psalmist divide the psalmist’s clothes among themselves by casting lots (verse 15), which is exactly what they did with Jesus’ clothing according to the gospels.

We cannot but help see the suffering and death of Jesus in Psalm 22. And this is exactly what the gospels would have us do. We are supposed to do this and to see the sufferings and the deaths of all those who have prayed Psalm 22 in the suffering and death of Jesus. The crucifixion of Jesus is, itself, a prayer of lament to God and on behalf of all those who suffer. God hears this prayer. God is faithful. God rescues Jesus and raises him from death for the sake of us all. God gives power to the faint and strengthens the powerless.

I think seeing the crucifixion through Psalm 22 adds a whole new dimension of meaning to Jesus’ death and resurrection. We hear much about how Jesus died for our sins and how Jesus death saves us from our sins. Sin is the problem. As true as that is, as we see the death and resurrection of Jesus through Psalm 22, human suffering also becomes a problem to which God responds. God delivers from sin and from suffering. There are ways that the two—sin and suffering—are related. While it may be true that I suffer because of my sin (though this is not always the case; I may be a sinner and yet not suffer for it), it may well be the case that others suffer because I sin.

I don’t really suffer very much at all. But still, I pray with the words of Psalm 22.1-21a and I am aware that many in the world do suffer. I find myself praying for them with these words. And then I pray with joy the words of Psalm 22.21b-31, confident that all will one day be restored in Christ, who died and was raised for our sake. All well be restored, our well being, our relationship with God, and our relationships with each other.