Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Ps 2:3

Ps. 2.3

Diagrammed

The Enthroned One  /  laughs  /  in heaven
The Lord                 /   mocks them


Our previous reflections find their fruition in these verses. On a literary level these verses are brilliant, following on the heels of 1-2. As we have already described, verses 1-2 have alienated the reader from these men. And the alienation is not simply one of confusion but of disbelief at their stupidity. The reader, I mean, has been alienated from these men by being placed above them. There are many ways an author can alienate the reader from certain characters and often it can be accomplished in a more ‘horizontal’ manner. What I mean is that the reader is alienated but does not feel superior to the character; they are merely puzzled. The author could, likewise, alienate the reader in such a way that they feel below the character. The character’s utter superiority makes the reader feel small in comparison and humble.

Not so with this Psalm. Here, the reader has been elevated. We have already noted how comical these men are. From their description in verse 1 to their arrogant claims in verse 2, the superiority of the reader to these men has been one of comical superiority. Their stupidity can elicit a laugh, much like the story of Babel is terribly funny in its description of God “peering down” on a tower these men thought was as great as heaven. In these opening verses there is no trace of fear of these men, or a sense that they actually represent a danger.

And now we find out why: Our laughter and the sense of superiority we have already felt are actually rooted in the divine and mocking laughter of God. This verse is wonderful. Following directly on the heels of the arrogant men’s “words of rebellion” one senses in these verses a deep, booming and terrible laughter either emerging or erupting from above.

Abruptness: The switch in perspective is immediate. In some sense the reader, although distanced from these men, is not prepared for this sudden change. It doesn’t say, “And then the Enthroned One laughed in heaven.” It simply begins with his laughter, as if the ‘Enthroned One’ had been laughing all along but the rabble of these men was so distracting that one couldn’t hear it. Or, it may be that the Enthroned One found amusing their gathering together but when they actually said they wanted to throw off his and his anointed’s fetters—that was simply too much and his laughter erupted. I like both images and I think they both work: either the emerging laughter that gathers in strength or the sudden eruption of laughter at the men’s “arrogant words”. 

The Procession of Laughter: Recall that the “words of rebellion” in v. 2 were not prefaced (it doesn’t say, “And then they said, “Let us…”). Their words seemed to just emerge from the puzzled question of v. 1. Their lack of preface only heightens the sense of stupidity of these men because there is no distance between thei description and their words which would allow the reader to, momentarily, pause. Here, though, we have a massive preface to God’s words, and it is one of derisive laughter. Before he speaks, he laughs. Like a royal procession, his laughter actually announces his presence and it is a terrible announcement. One pictures the arrogant men utterly silenced and terrified when this unforeseen and completely overpowering laughter crashes on top of them.

There is something so appropriate and yet so utterly unpredictable about this laughter. The men have been acting so earnestly in their commotion. They not only arm themselves as if for battle but they “join together as one” (are we to hear here the story of Babel?). This is one thing they can all agree on. They speak with one voice. And yet, what meets them? Not an army, not something that matches their earnestness and seriousness. A ‘whirlwind’ doesn’t immediately descend upon them. Nor does an earthquake devour them. Rather---the complete opposite: laughter. There could be nothing more demeaning or humiliating than this response. Nor could there be anything more disarming. God does not “meet them where they are”: this is no “eye for an eye”.

Notice too that this is the laughter of the “Enthroned One” and not the laughter of his anointed. While their war for freedom is being waged against both, the response they receive only comes one: the Lord. Yes, the reader may have been laughing all along, and this laughter is appropriate. But it is one rooted in the divine perspective. Here, there is a distinct separation between the Lord and his anointed. And this separation will be, and is, important to maintain in this Psalm.

“The Enthroned One laughs in heaven”: we mentioned already the kings were the only party in verse 1 with a description (“earthly kings”). We find out here why that adjective was supplied. ‘Heaven’ was not simply a geographical referent; it didn’t mean “up there”. Rather, it meant the place of power, the source of power. When gods were called upon (whether in Israel or outside) the gods were invoked in order to supply the earth with power (whether in battle or in the field). The earth was understood as being sustained “by heaven”/the gods. By describing the kings as “earthly kings” the Psalmist provides them a description they would have certainly found insulting; most kings understood their power to be derived from the gods (or, some saw themselves as actual gods). The Psalmist is essentially saying these kings have no real power. They are simply ‘earthly’. However, here, we see the Enthroned One in heaven. Two images are fused together: the throne and heaven.

By describing the Lord as “the Enthroned One” rather than “the One upon the throne”, we get a sense that the Lord and his throne cannot be separated. They are a unified entity—the source of all power (the throne) cannot be separated from the one who sits upon that throne. Unlike other gods who vie for the throne, this One, in a real sense, is the throne. Or, we might say, that if he left the throne no one else could sit on it.

3 comments:

  1. What do we know about the ungodly? We know that they are in revolt and that they will be destroyed.
    - Revolt:
    The Psalmist begins his poem by asking why the nations rage, and the closest he comes to an answer is their declaration of war: “Let us break Their bonds in pieces/ And cast away Their cords from us.” The assumption is that the nations are raging because they believe themselves to have been enslaved by God and His anointed.
    The revolutionaries suffer from a misperception about God’s kingdom. This is the same malady suffered by a band of dwarves in C. S. Lewis’ “The Last Battle.” Towards the end of the story, shortly before Aslan returns to Narnia, Lucy comes upon some dwarves who have lost their faith in Aslan. Their senses have become muddled and can’t enjoy the natural surroundings. Lucy tries to rouse them to an appreciation of their natural surroundings by presenting them with flowers, but one swipes at her for “shoving an awful lot of stable-litter” in his face.
    Aslan arrives, and Lucy begs him to help the dwarves. He responds by saying, “I will show you what I can do and what I cannot do” and gives them a feast. The dwarves “began eating and drinking greedily enough, but it was clear that they couldn’t taste it properly. They thought they were eating and drinking only the sort of things you might find in a stable. One said he was trying to eat hay and another said he had got a bit of an old turnip and a third said he’d found a raw cabbage leaf. And they raised golden goblets of rich red wine to their lips and said “Ugh! Fancy drinking dirty water out of a trough a donkey’s been at.” The dwarves suffer from an incurable delusion.
    In the same way that the dwarves mistook their idyllic setting for a stable, and their feast for hay, the psalmist revolutionaries have mistaken God’s kingdom for slavery. This delusion is incomprehensible to someone from a holy viewpoint. The Psalmist, much like Lucy helping the dwarves, is confounded by the obliviousness of the revolutionaries.
    - Destruction:
    One characteristic of the revolutionaries’ delusion is that they do not comprehend the kingdom of heaven and its ubiquitous nature. Plots are done in secret, and they are meant to entrap their victim. However, God’s laughter pulls back heaven’s curtains and shows that everything is done under the watchful eye of God.
    This revelation is not the same as a plotter might feel if his phone was tapped. Though both feel naked to the observing voice, these revolutionaries have missed a larger point; heaven is not just a power to overthrow, it is the root of power. The Messiah explains this by saying that God gave him the nations and the ends of the earth. Not only is there no hiding spot to plot – for all ‘spots’ are under the Messiah’s control – but that the essence of holding power is granted by God. So while a terrorist might find out his phone is tapped, and that his plots might be foiled, these kings find out that the object of their revolution isn’t even attainable because it comes from heaven…and they have no understanding of it.
    This is not a war between two forces, though much of the language is warring. Instead, it’s an existential conflict where one side has no hope of survival because it doesn’t understand the rules of the game. Earlier I wrote that the opening lines show that there are already fissures in the unity of the earthly kingdoms. It is made explicitly clear when they will be broken by the iron rod of the Messiah. The Psalmist is notable for identifying that the revolutionaries have lost before they have even begun.

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  2. I like these thoughts--to push them further: there is the sense that Yhwh and goodness are always already prior to the wicked rulers. As you point out, they have come 'late to the game' even though in their plotting they think they are the originators of their own power. This makes me think back to Genesis---the awareness that the serpent and the temptation are always after the completed work of creation. They are not, as it were, created along with the order of creation but can only come about after the fact. In this way, no matter how much they seek to be their own source, they are (chronologically and metaphysically) secondary. And yet, they emerge without notice, much like the serpent emerges from nowhere. They seem to simply 'be there'. In Ps. 34, this is described as evil attempting to take over the righteous 'without cause'. There is no 'why' to evil (it is a mocking of the fact that there is no 'why' to creation as well). It has no 'ground' or source. In the same manner--the judgment that falls upon them mirrors their own formless 'creation' and hits them 'unaware' (the laughter). This 'word' (this 'laughter') that comes from Yhwh is, to them, an object of terror but, to the righteous, a redemption and a type of 'new creation' as it reorders the kings into their proper places.

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  3. The kings congregate to rebel against the anointed. They make their trek only to hear the horrible laughter. The son then turns to them and says this day I have been made king. Yet, they were travelling to rebel before ‘this day’. Are we to hear in this the fact that even though anointed is made king ‘today’, all royal authority is contained and derives only from him (even if it originates prior to his crowning).



    Much like the serpent appears ‘unaware’ in the garden—his temptation can only be responsive/parasitic to creation itself and his power is purely derivative of it. The ground of Yhwh’s goodness is always/already prior to any deviation from it---just as the kings power of rebellion is always/already overtaken by that kingly power that enables it to begin with….

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