On Psalm 46

Psalm 46 is a hymn of praise expressing confidence in God. This confidence is placed not so much in the past actions of God with the people of Israel; the history of God’s care for Israel is not recounted, though that history may be implied ("the God of Jacob is our refuge). The confidence expressed here is in God as the creator and in the presence of God dwelling among the people in the Temple. The psalm is clearly divided into three parts, those parts designated with the word Selah, an obscure Hebrew word that seems to indicate some kind of musical interlude. The second and third sections end with the refrain, "The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge" (verses 7 and 11). This is only speculation, but one could imagine this psalm being used in the Temple with a soloist or a chorus singing the first verses of each section and then a chorus or the gathered congregation singing or chanting the refrain.

Confidence is expressed in God as creator. There are references to cosmology and God’s power of creation in verses 2 and 3 and in verse 10. In Genesis 1, God creates the cosmos by making distinctions within and order out of the chaotic, watery deep. The cosmos described in Genesis 1 and to which Psalm 46 refers looks like this:

You will remember, in Genesis 1, that God separates the waters above from the waters below with a "firmament". This firmament, this dome, is the sky, which was thought to be supported by mountains. The psalmist will not fear though the mountains holding up the sky tremble in the heart of the sea, in the waters below the earth. The psalmist will not fear even if the chaotic, watery deep should threaten to engulf and destroy the ordering of creation. What would cause the psalmist—or anyone else—to think that the watery deep is threatening creation? Of course, there is no way for us to know the historical setting of this psalm. And part of the power of this and other psalms is that those who use these psalms can "fill in the blanks", so to speak. Certainly a flood or some other sort of natural disaster might cause people to think that the world is coming to an end. But the psalmist speaks of the nations and kingdoms as being in an uproar. The nations are in an uproar—an uproar not unlike the roaring of the waters of chaos in which the mountains shake and tremble—and somehow threatening the people of Israel and, indeed, the order of creation. It is to the roaring waters and the roaring nations that God, the creator, says in the third part (verse 10), "Be still, and know that I am God." The roaring of the nations will be subdued by the word of God as that word subdued the watery chaos in the beginning.

At the center (of course) of creation, there is a holy mountain, Mount Zion, upon which is the holy city of Jerusalem and its Temple. Flowing from this mountain is a river, the source and fountain of all life (verse 4). The people of Israel need not fear, for God, the creator, the divine warrior that does battle with the waters of chaos, dwells among them in the Temple on Mount Zion. God is a refuge, a "mighty fortress", in the midst of the roaring of the nations. The God who dwells on Zion causes wars to cease by breaking bows and shattering spears and burning shields in the same way that this God quelled the waters of chaos in the beginning, with a word: Be still!

There are echoes of this psalm, or the kind of theology behind it, in the New Testament. Mark 4.35-41 finds Jesus and his disciples in a boat on the Sea of Galilee. A storm comes up. The gates of heaven open and the waters above come down. The sea itself is in an uproar as the waters below rush to the surface. It is as though the order of creation is being threatened. But Jesus stills storm and the roaring waters of the Sea of Galilee with the words, "Peace! Be still!" This leaves his disciples "fearing a great fear" and asking, "Who then is this, that even the wind and sea obey him?" At issue here is the identity of Jesus. While Mark never draws a direct identification of Jesus with God, here and elsewhere the author of Mark comes close. While that author never says that Jesus is God out right, it would seem that, in pointing to Jesus, the author is saying, at the least, that this is who God is.

In Psalm 46, you will note that God is the refuge or fortress, not so much the Temple, not the city, and not the mountain. It is the presence of God, not so much the actual dwelling place of that presence, that is a present help in trouble. In light of this, it is interesting to see that, in John 2.13-22, Jesus stands in the Temple on Mount Zion and challenges those who question his authority to destroy "this temple" saying that he will rebuild it in three days. He is, of course, not talking about the Temple building, but himself, his own flesh. It is in Jesus that God dwells; he is the Temple. Indeed, those who follow him and obey his commands will dwell in him, in this temple. Just as his kingdom is "not of this world", not in a particular place, so is the presence of God not in a particular place.

On Psalm 91

Psalm 91, like Psalm 46, is a hymn of praise. Like Psalm 46, it speaks of confidence in the presence of God. The history of God’s protection and care of the people of Israel is not recounted in this psalm, as it is not in Psalm 46. Confidence is not so much in the actions of God than it is in the protective presence of God. Some scholars think Psalm 91 consists of three parts. The first part consists of the first two verses and is a kind of opening declaration, an address of sorts. The second part consists of verses 3-13 and is an exhortation or a word of encouragement spoken to those addressed in the first part. The third part—the remaining verses—seems to be an oracle; the words spoken are the words of God.

With words similar to Psalm 46, the psalmist speaks of God as a refuge and as a fortress. This is probably a reference to the Temple. Also the pinions and wings in verse 4 could be a reference to the wings of the cherubim on the Ark of the Covenant, which was kept in the Temple’s Holy of Holies. The dangers from which the Lord protects those who live in the Lord’s shelter are described in verses 5 and 6 as perhaps demonic forces, some at work in the day and others at night. We have no idea what exactly these forces are or what would prompt the psalmist to think such forces are at work. Again, this is part of the reason the psalms have endured the centuries and can still speak with power. The reference to a thousand falling at your side in verse 7 is the judgment of the Lord against the wicked mentioned in the next verse.

The closing oracle speaks of those "who love me" and those "who know my name". These have some kind of relationship with God in which the integrity of both parties is known and respected. God is not a thing to be used, but a kind of person to be known and respected, or loved. This is important. God is not merely a magic amulet to ward of dangers. Indeed, Satan quotes this Psalm when he tempts Jesus for a third time telling him to throw himself off the pinnacle of the temple, for surely the angels will keep him safe. (See Luke 4.9-13.)

On Psalm 23

Psalm 23 is also what I would call a hymn of praise, though a quiet, meditative kind of hymn. It is a hymn in praise of God’s character; it is "for his name’s sake" that the psalmist is lead in right paths, that the psalmist’s soul is restore, and so on. God remains faithful and true to God’s own self, which finds expression in God being faithful and true to the psalmist.

There are two images, or metaphors, at work in Psalm 23. The first, of course, is the image of God as shepherd. This is the image found in the first four verses. The image of God as shepherd can be found elsewhere in the Old Testament. In Isaiah 40, God will lead the people exiled in Babylon back to the promised—a second exodus—like a shepherd leading sheep. Note, too, the combination of great strength and gentle care:

Another passage in which God is said to be a shepherd can be found in Ezekiel 34.11-16.

The second image for God in Psalm 23 is found in the last two verses. The psalmist is no longer like a lamb and God a shepherd. In the last two verses, the psalmist is a guest and God is a host. Preparing a table, anointing with oil, and providing wine are the traditional things a host does for a guest. What may lie behind this imagery are nomadic traditions of hospitality. In the wilderness, the psalmist is pursued by enemies and finds safe haven and sanctuary in the tent of another nomad. In offering hospitality, the host provides sanctuary; it was customary that one’s enemies will not attack so long as one is a guest of another. This may be what is going on here. Notice, too, that just as the psalmist enemies were pursuing him, now it is God’s goodness and mercy that "pursue" him.

It is for good reason that Psalm 23 is the favorite of so many. The poetry and the imagery found in this psalm are powerful. Being made to lie down in green pastures and being led beside still waters are powerful and beautiful images. But it is difficult to say exactly what being made to lie down in green pastures and what being led beside still waters means exactly. It just doesn’t say what exactly a person will not lack. What is it that a person will not want? It leaves one wondering exactly what kind of help and protection one can expect from God, from this shepherd. And this is a problem. But, having said that, this kind of indeterminacy is what makes the imagery so powerful and why Psalm 23 has been read for these many centuries.

There are echoes of Psalm 23 in several places in the New Testament. One thinks of Jesus’ parable in Luke 15.3-7 about a shepherd who leaves the other ninety-nine sheep and searches for the lost sheep until it is found. In John 10, Jesus speaks of himself as the good shepherd who gives his life for the sheep. I think there are echoes of Psalm 23 in the stories of Jesus feeding the multitude. In these stories, Jesus has the people sit down in the "green grass." Indeed, in Mark 6, Jesus comes ashore to find a great crowd before him. He has compassion for them because they are like "sheep without a shepherd" (verse 34). He has the multitude sit down in the "green grass" and then he spreads a table before them.