Ps 25

For you / I have waited / O Yhwh – I will / lift up my soul / to my God. This is an interesting opening: immediately we are placed within an ‘unfillfilled’ time, a period of ‘waiting’. The psalmist occupies a sort of ‘dead-space’, a time between Yhwh’s past action and future deliverance. We are in the period of ‘forgetfulness’, when Yhwh’s face is apparently not turned toward the psalmist. Within such times the world (as including the ‘moral’ aspect of justice) seems to wither and chaos begins to gain the upper hand; enemies threaten. This may, however, be too strong—‘waiting’is a much more toned-down way of referring to this ‘space’. It seems to indicate not a plea for Yhwh to ‘remember’ but a way of saying he will ‘arrive’.In this ‘waiting-space’, the psalmist “lifts up his soul to my God”. There are two things to note about this: first, to ‘lift up my soul’ means to engage in worship. Second, by referring to ‘my God’, the psalmist is alluding to the covenant between Yhwh and his people (“you will be My people, and I will be your god”). There is an important point in this: this ‘dead/waiting-space’ is in fact still ‘inhabited’ by the covenant and, through that inhabiting presence, one can still engage in worship. By, in a sense, resting in the covenant, Yhwh is not deemed to be ‘missing’; rather, the covenant is calling him to attention. In other words, the covenant, which is to be the mode by which Yhwh is bound to Israel, is also that which attunes Israel to his absence. I wonder if this ‘soft’ request to Yhwh (rather than the “why have you abandoned me” of Ps. 22) is rooted in what we will see later: the psalmist’s own sense of his sinfulness. It could be that this ‘waiting’ is rooted in a deep-seated sense of a need for grace rather than his ability to demand Yhwh pay attention. “In you / I have trusted – let me not / be put to shame. – Let not / by enemies / exult over me.” The dilemma the psalmist faces—the ‘cause’ of the waiting-space—is not something internal or spiritual; rather, it is a real state-of-affairs. He is in danger of being shamed by his enemies. In other words, his public face (which is just as much his “I”) is about to be tarnished. This ‘shame’ will be exhibited by his enemies ‘exulting over him’:this is an entirely public action, something that the community will know of, and (at least some) will participate in. We see here that the ‘waiting’referred to above is now formulated as ‘trusting’ (supporting our conclusion that, inherent to the idea of ‘waiting’ was a confidence that it will end). The psalmist is watching his public face sink (his ‘honor’), and is imploring Yhwh to reach down and redeem it before the waters engulf it. The fact that he senses little control over the matter is emphasized by the “let me” and the “let not my enemies”.

“Indeed / all who are waiting / for you / will not be / put to shame: - the ones / who act treacherously / without reason / will be put to shame.” It seems as there are two forms of ‘waiting’: waiting for something that is certain to occur and waiting for something that might (or might not) happen. Here, based on the psalmist’s confidence, it would seem as if his ‘waiting’ is grounded in something he regards as certain to occur. In other words, it is only a matter of time. It seems thus because here we no longer have “let me not be put to shame” but “all who wait will not be put to shame”. I do not believe that this is some type of ‘end-time’ assertion, as in, “after the day of the Lord the righteous will inherit eternal life…”. Rather, the psalmist sees this as working out in the present time (which can make his confidence so much more daring or disturbing). “Cause me / to know your ways, / O Yhwh; - teach me / your paths. – Make me / walk in your truth / and teach me, - for you are / the god/ of my salvation.” There is an interesting parallelism here between Yhwh’s ‘ways’,‘paths’ and ‘truth’. Apparently, Yhwh’s ‘truth’ is to be understood as synonymous with his ‘way’ or ‘path’. These terms seem to refer back to psalms like psalm 1 and the wisdom tradition in Israel. However, in the context of this psalm they all point to covenantal obligations (as we will see later). Regardless, what is important is that Yhwh’s ‘truth’,here, seems to be a set of practical guidelines of holiness and not what we would typically associate with ‘truth’ as an abstract principle. In a sense, to walk in Yhwh’s ‘truth’ is to be some form of a disciple. It is something you “walk in”, it is a “path”. We might say it is a “way of life”. Interesting to note is that we would expect the word “Let” (as in “let me walk…) rather than “make” (or‘cause’) (“make me walk…”). “Let” implies a removal of boundaries. “Make” is much stronger and there is an element of almost force. These are not mutually exclusive; however, “make me” is a more direct calling for help. “And I have waited / for you / all day long, - on account of / your goodness / O Yhwh.” In many ways these lines mimic the opening lines and conclude a certain portion of the psalm. What we know now, though, is the fact that his ‘waiting’ is rooted in his desire to be conformed to Yhwh’s path. Perhaps we are to understand Yhwh’s path/truth/way as the ‘goodness’ that he is seeking—not only is he asking for protection; he wants to be given something (Yhwh’s ‘goodness’, or ‘truth’). It is not enough that a danger be avoided; a ‘good’ is sought after. “Remember / your acts of mercy and lovingkindness, - for they are from of old. – Do not remember – the sins of my youth – or my transgression; - please remember / me / according to your lovingkindness.” There are several structural things about these lines that deserve note: the first two ‘remembers’ parallel each other (by contrast):

A: Remember

B: Your acts of mercy and lovingkindness

C: For they are from of old.

A1: Do not remember

B1: The sins (or transgressions)

C1: Of my youth.

The psalmist here, formally, places himself in total contrast to Yhwh: whereas Yhwh’s actions should always be recalled/remembered, his should not; whereas Yhwh’s actions are those of ‘mercy and lovingkindness’,his are ‘sins and transgressions’; whereas Yhwh is entirely consistent, ‘from of old’; so too are his, but in sinfulness, ‘of my youth’. This contrast is concluded, as to be expected, with the emphasis falling on Yhwh—“please remember me according to your lovingkindness”. It is Yhwh’s undeserved grace in covenantal fidelity that we find the psalmist ‘redeemed’ from himself. The fact that this reference is to Yhwh’s covenantal act (lovingkindness) is important and it reveals something crucial about the covenant itself. It is in acts of forgiveness when, in a very real sense, the covenantal bond is most clearly seen. This concluding phrase ‘trumps’ to parallelism that went before; if it was just ‘tit-for-tat’ the psalmist would be doomed. Rather, at the heart of the covenant stands Yhwh who is desiring to overcome all strict calls for justice by and through the covenant established with his people. In a very real sense, Yhwh is seen as the true Lord of the covenant by this desire on his part to ‘cover over’ or ‘not remember’ the sins of his people. In this way, he shows himself to be the originator of the covenant and its king. There is another point that flows from this: one thing we have noted in almost every psalm is the fact that Yhwh’s ‘punishment’ is very much an outworking of the person’s evil (all Yhwh needs to do, in a sense, is nothing in order for the judgment to ripen into punishment). Here, however, we find a positive act on Yhwh’s part as he ‘does not remember’ the sins. It seems as if here we stumble upon something crucial: Yhwh’s ‘act’ is most clearly seen in his forgiveness and this ‘act’ as a covenantal act is one which reveals the heart of the covenant itself as Yhwh’s establishing communion between himself and his people. It is here where Yhwh’s ‘transcendence’is perhaps most clearly seen. Incidentally, I believe this is the first time we have encountered an actual admittance of sin in the psalms. There have been other assertions such as, “If you find fault with me, then…” but, as we saw, they were really assertions of innocence (the psalmist knew no fault would be found).

“Good and upright / is Yhwh; - therefore / he is showing sinners / the way. – He will make the humble / walk in judgment, - and he will teach the humble / his way.” It is interesting to note how the progression here mimics what we saw above in regard to the psalmist: “know your ways”—“make me walk”—“teach”. Whereas before the request did not seem to have to do with penitence, here, ‘sinners’ are explicitly included within those whom Yhwh teaches (are we to see the ‘humble’ as similar to ‘contrite’?). There is also something here which we have not necessarily seen before, but follows from our previous reflections: Yhwh as making a positive movement toward sinners. In almost every other psalm were sinners appear they are almost universally doomed to judgment; of course, it is important that these psalms originate as pleas by the innocent for judgment whereas here we actually have the voice of an acknowledged sinner.

“All of Yhwh’s paths / are lovingkindness and truth, - for the ones / who keep his covenant stipulations.” Here we find a good confirmation of our previous reflections on Yhwh’s truth as adherence to his covenant stipulations. We might add here that it seems that there is an element of ‘trustworthiness’ associated with ‘truth’ due to the fact that is here paired with ‘lovingkindness’ (which is the characteristic most often associated with Yhwh’s activity within the covenant). “For your name’s sake / O Yhwh –please forgive / my iniquity – for it is great!” The psalmist here resumes his plea; whereas before it was couched in terms of ‘forgetting’, here it is ‘forgive’.Furthermore, this forgiveness is rooted in Yhwh’s name, as if his ‘great sin’is something that causes shame to Yhwh and that in order to cleanse his name forgiveness should flow. It is important that the psalmist roots his plea for forgiveness not, for example, in the fact that he may ‘descend into Sheol and therefore stop praising Yhwh’, but in Yhwh’s name itself. The act of forgiveness, here, is rooted in Yhwh. What I can’t answer is what this ‘great sin’ is. Previously, he referred to sins ‘of his youth’. It would seem, though, that this is referring to something else, something he is currently guilty of. “Who / then / is the one / who fears Yhwh? – He will show him / the way that / he shall choose. – His soul / shall dwell / in prosperity, - and his seed / shall inherit / the earth. – The friendship of Yhwh / belongs to those / who fear him, - and indeed / he makes them / to know his covenant.” One of the most interesting aspects of this psalm is how it has combined images from wisdom literature with covenantal ideas. No where is this as clear as here: the “fear of Yhwh” is almost always the “beginning of wisdom” and yet here it is the beginning of Yhwh’s making known “his covenant”. At first it seems muted—the ‘way he shall choose’ (the ‘way’ being a wisdom term). This begins to shift though when it says his ‘seed shall inherit the earth’. One is here reminded of the promise that if one follows the covenant one “will live in the land and prosper”.Then it is made explicit: fear (not terror or horror but deep reverence) is yoked with friendship with Yhwh which results in his “making known his covenant”.For the first time in the psalms, too, we find the notion of ‘friendship’ with Yhwh. Embedded within the covenantal relationship (and yoked with fear of Yhwh) is this rather powerful idea of ‘friendship’. I am not aware of anyone other than Moses who is referred to as a ‘friend of God’. One interested note about Moses: Yhwh’s ‘spirit’ was given to him; when a portion of that spirit was given to other men who would be called upon to help Moses judge Israel, they nearly went mad. This would seem to indicate precisely how profound a ‘friendship with Yhwh’ might be. And, this Moses was the one who “was made to know the covenant”. At this point the psalm seems to recapitulate itself: “My eyes / are constantly toward / Yhwh, - for he is the one / who brought forth / my feet / from the net.” The ‘waiting’ of the opening verse is here, literally, embodied in the eyes ‘constantly toward Yhwh’. This does allow for more contemplation and reflection: when one’s eyes are focused on a single object, they do so in order to detect movement; there would be no need otherwise. Because these eyes are those of a admirer, ‘fixed eyes’ are also used in order to adapt oneself to the perceived changes, to be ready to respond appropriately. The psalmist, therefore, knows of Yhwh’s freedom in acting and desires to make sure he does not miss the smallest movement on his behalf. What ‘caused’ this fixation is the fact that Yhwh has redeemed him in the past ‘from the net’ (is this another name for Sheol, or are we to see here the net that evil men lay for the innocent?). He was partially caught and was going to be fully captured when Yhwh intervened on his behalf. And here we find out what he is looking for: “Turn to me / and be gracious / to me – for I am alone / and afflicted. – Trouble alarms / my heart, - bring me forth / from my straits! - Meet my affliction / and my trouble, - and take away / all my sins.” It is apparent that whatever situation he was in before, he has returned. His “feet are in the net” and he is asking that Yhwh do what he has done in the past. Here, though, there is the added need that just as he needs lifting out of his ‘straits’ so too do his sins need to be ‘taken away’. He is therefore asking for the removal of two things: his enemies and his sin. “See how numerous / my enemies are. – And they have / hated me / with violent hatred. – Guard my soul / and rescue me. – Don’t let me / be put to shame / for I have / sought refuge in you.” The psalm is now beginning to fold in on itself: it opened with the request he not be put to shame and it is closing with the same. “May integrity / and uprightness / protect me, - for I have / waited for you / O Yhwh. – O God, / ransom Israel / from all its troubles.”The psalm has now come full circle by use of the term ‘wait’, except that here we are to recognize that his request for protection from “integrity and uprightness” also applies to him and his own sinfulness. This recapitulates, in the psalmist, the ideal man of the psalm: the one who fears and desires to walk in Yhwh’s covenantal ‘way’. The final concluding remark expands this to all of Israel.

Ps 24

“The earth / belongs / to Yhwh – the world / and those who dwell / therein” The psalm opens with two abrupt statements, which say much the same thing in slightly different ways. The first emphasizes that the earth itself, the actual ‘stage’ of creation belongs to Yhwh (much like the account in Genesis begins with ‘setting the stage’). The second emphasizes that, in addition, the living things (animal, but particularly human: as “dwellers”)belong to Yhwh. By drawing attention to the fact that man is a ‘dweller’ in the world, the psalm would seem to be indicating this in contrast to Yhwh’s ownership over the whole; man is like tenant—Yhwh, the landlord; man merely ‘dwells’in the earth Yhwh owns. So not only are they only dwellers, but man is ‘owned’,just as much as the earth itself, by Yhwh. There are threads here being sown that will weave together throughout the rest of the psalm. Now, however, we are told precisely why Yhwh is the owner. “For he / has fixed it / upon the seas –and established it / upon the rivers.” Although not contradicting the creation account of Genesis, we find here a a different emphasis. It would seem that in the back of the psalm there are remnants of a story whereby Yhwh slew the “chaos monster” (sea monster) Leviathan and thereby created order and the world. Here, there is not such an explicit image of battle and, in this regard, it is more in line with the effortless creation of Genesis. However, the image of ‘fixing’and ‘establishing’ is not quite so easy—there is something here of a craftman working with (or against) the sea and rivers. ‘Fixing’ denotes the fact that Yhwh must somehow ‘anchor’ creation, and that, otherwise, it might be engulfed by the sea; ‘establishing’ carries the image of building, as in pouring some foundation on top of the rivers. It seems, then, that the sea and rivers are, to some degree, at odds with the world and the earth, that they could, without Yhwh’s active ‘fixing’ and ‘establishing’, consume or destroy it. And, this, as we have seen, is not a threat merely to the inanimate ‘stage’ of creation but man as well. These ‘seas’ and ‘rivers’ are, in this regard, not to be taken only literally; they are also threats to mankind. They are chaotic forces that ‘wash’up over man, and man, therefore must also be ‘fixed’ or ‘established’ by Yhwh. It is with this in mind that the psalm asks: “Who / shall ascend / into the mountain / of Yhwh – and who / shall stand up / in his holy place?” This is an interesting transition for several reasons. First, to follow the line of thinking already established, these questions ask, it seems, how does man become ‘fixed’ or ‘established’ by Yhwh? Are we to suspect, then, that this act of creation by Yhwh is, in fact, something ongoing in man? That man’s living in accordance with whatever the answer is, is man’s continuing (or expressing) Yhwh’s act of ‘fixing’ creation upon the water’s of chaos? This leads into the second observation: the psalm began with abrupt statements regarding Yhwh’s ownership of the entire earth, world and its inhabitants. Here, though, we are, rather unexpectedly, shown that Yhwh is, himself, a ‘dweller’ on the earth. He has a ‘holy mountain’, a ‘holy place’ where he has chosen to dwell. The landlord has made a home within his own property. And so, while man may be the tenant of the earth, Yhwh, himself, has a space wherein he resides. And it, apparently, is in a type of ‘off-limits’ to the man-dwellers. There is no guaranteed access to this home. There is a place, within the ‘earth’ and the ‘world’were man must be granted access; his entrance is not guaranteed. Evidently, therefore, Yhwh as ‘fixer’ of the earth and world, has done so morally and ethically as well. Because man is not guaranteed access to this ‘mountain’ or ‘home’,and because man is also ‘fixed’ or ‘established’ by Yhwh, it must be that the psalmist realizes, without reflection almost, that Yhwh’s act of creation is, itself, a moral act of creation. For Yhwh, to ‘fix’ or ‘establish’ creation is to root man in Yhwh’s ‘goodness’ against the forces of chaos. In other words, to ‘own’ is ‘to govern’. One final point to make, the Temple (which is obviously being refereed to here as Yhwh’s ‘mountain’ or ‘dwelling), was understood to be a microcosm of the entire created order. This will become much more important latter in the psalm. Suffice to say, here, that Yhwh’s ‘home’ is more than a ‘dwelling’within the earth; in a very real sense, the Temple is the foundation of the earth and therefore represents, in a way, a place that is of a different order than the rest of the earth/world. This would go some way to explaining the abrupt transition for Yhwh as landowner to Yhwh as ‘dweller’ as well as the fact that to approach this ‘dwelling’ entails stringent interrogation about the one entering. Although one is entering ‘the world’ when one enters the Temple, one is also (more importantly) entering the ‘dwelling’ of Yhwh himself who created/established/fixed the world. It is an incredibly dynamic image.

At this point, the answer (‘of who can dwell/stand in the landlord’s home’) is given: “He who has / innocent hands / and a pure heart, - who has not / raised his mind / to what is false – and has not sworn deceitfully.” The structure of the answer is not uncommon. It is something we have seen throughout when the ‘righteous’ conduct of a person is identified: two positive characteristics are followed by two negative oens. Here, the positive are ‘innocent hands’ and a ‘pure heart.’ I do not think it is at all a stretch to say that the ‘condition’ of this visitor must be something that mimics the owner himself (“be holy as I am holy”). The focus is twofold: ‘hands’ and ‘heart’. The first draws our attention to the only ‘active’aspect of the ‘visitor’ in all four descriptions. The ‘hands’ are ‘innocent’.As will become apparent, this ‘innocence’ must refer to an inner consistency, to the hands not being used for two purposes; they are ‘double’. The ‘heart’,likewise, must be ‘pure’. If the ‘hands’ were the active part, here we have the organ of ‘intention’. It would seem, then, that we find here both ‘right’intention (heart) and right act (hands). These stand in contrast to the “mind raised to falsity” and the deceitful oath. To “raise one’s mind” implies an act of worship/adoration. It is apparent that the person so doing would not regard the object of his worship as ‘false’ and so this is a judgment by the psalmist on the activity and not as much a description. We can, however, get some clue as to what he may be referring to when he says they also ‘swear falsely’. It would seem therefore that to ‘raise one’s mind to what is false’ bears some resemblance to swearing falsely. Apparently, these men enter the Temple in order to take an oath but, inwardly, have no intention of ever fulfilling what they are swearing to. They are who we have seen throughout the psalms: the double-minded and wicked. Their outward ‘oath’ in no way mimics their inward intention in stark contrast to the pure visitor whose hands and heart are aligned with each other. Lastly, it deserves to be noted that Yhwh’s ‘words’ are always described as ‘pure’ and ‘without alloy’. It would seem that these ‘visitors’ must, themselves, exhibit the same unity: their purity is single-ness. In these ‘true worshippers’ therefore we catch a glimpse of who the ‘owner’ is, in himself so to speak. They reflect his purity and ‘innocence’ by the fact that they can, Moses-like, enter and stand in his presence. In a sense, then, these ‘visitors’are the ‘fixed’ and ‘established’ men of creation. To see these ‘visitors’ is to ‘see creation’. They are Adam-like, while those who exhibit double-mindedness show forth the chaos waters on which the earth/world is fixed. Yhwh ‘owns’ these visitors as his prize possession; the others are subject to his control (as the waters are) but also represent a force at odds with his purpose. Interesting to note here: Yhwh is not described as ‘owning’the waters/rivers but, rather, the earth/world.

We now come to see the ‘effect’ of a properly ‘fixed’or ‘established’ visitor: “He will receive / blessings from Yhwh – and righteousness / from the god / of his salvation.” If what we have said thus far is correct (that we have been given a picture of man as ‘owned’ by Yhwh, but, that ownership being exemplified in his moral purity), then this further develops the vision of creation as the place of blessing and reward/righteousness. This is important in several respects. First, I have often heard it said that creation is not an event but an ongoing act. This seems well played out in our psalm, in that Yhwh’s ‘ownership’ of creation is by his ‘anchoring it’ on the seas, meaning, it is by his ongoing warding off of the powers of chaos. In the human realm this is accomplished by admitting visitors into his presence, specifically, those that exemplify his holiness and purity. As astonishing as this is, there is more: the purpose (the goal) of it all is so that creation and man can be a vessel of blessing and reward. This reminds me, to a large extent, of the verse in Isaiah that says that Yhwh’s word will not ‘return to him void’ but will reap a harvest. The purpose of creation is not to simply ‘be there’ but to be inspired to praise and worship by being a vessel of Yhwh’s blessing. Arguably, then, to understand what ‘creation is’, one must first look at what the ‘effect of creation’ is—one does not move behind the effect to its ‘nature’and thereby understand creation. This is much like the ‘saints’: one does not attempt to ‘get behind the saints’ so as to see the face of Christ. Rather, the saints are themselves the ‘fruit’ of Christ and, therefore, are not only not in competition with him but are his designated modes of revelation (the iconostasis is not a barrier but a window). Creation, in this sense, is vibrant, always growing, always producing, always moving, always becoming a greater vessel for blessing (the more it receives the more it can receive).And, in this ‘receiving’ it is exemplifying Yhwh’s ‘anchoring’/fixing/establishing of creation. In other words, its receiving of blessing is itself an act of creation. “This is / the generation of those / who consult him – of those / who seek / your face – O God / of Jacob. Selah.” This provides an interesting furtherance of what we have said already—the dead go into Sheol where there is no memory of Yhwh; creation is something ‘ongoing’,especially in those who exemplify Yhwh’s holiness and purity; here, each (present) generation is understood to be the ongoing act of Yhwh as he fixes creation on chaos (the waters). In this verse, this is understood as ‘seeking his face’ (which is likely a royal term, as in ‘seeking the face’ of the king or seeking an audience with the king). The ‘face of Yhwh’, as we have seen, is the source of all blessing and is, itself, the highest blessing. If understood in its context, as something the priest said about the gathered people, it is especially poignant: it is as if he points to them and says, “Here, here in the Temple right now, are those who have come to the vessel of your blessing. These are the men of creation.” It is appropriate, then, that this is the first, and only time, that Yhwh is specifically addressed. Right now, as these men approach, is the time to address Yhwh; everything that came before led up to it.

The progression thus far has been: an assertion of Yhwh’s ownership/governance over the earth/world and everything that ‘dwells’on it; a shift to a focus on Yhwh’s (the landlord’s) home in the midst of his possession and the criterion by which visitors/tenants are allowed entrance (the movement has therefore been from landowner to land-dweller); the fact that the visitors have entered the house as those who ‘seek the face’ (an audience) with the landlord/king. At this point, the perspective shifts once again. We now realize that while the visitors have been deemed worthy of standing in the king’s/landlord’s home, he is not actually present but is arriving. One thing we need to note here is the fact that the psalm first asserts Yhwh’s ownership, shows that he has a dwelling therein and also the fact that one must accommodate oneself in order to dwell in his home. The focus, then, has been on the dwellers. Here, in a very ingenious turn, the focus now shifts to how the home itself must accommodate itself to the Landlord’s/King’s arrival. “Lift up / your heads / O gates! – and be uplifted / O eternal doors! – Then / the King of Glory / shall come in!” It seems a consensus that these lines were first used when the arc of the covenant was returned to the Temple/shrine after being carried into war, thereby taking Yhwh’s ‘throne’ into battle. This, however, does not explain how the psalm survived long after the arc disappeared or lost its central focus to the Temple. Regardless, on a literary level, the psalm is coherent in its movement already detailed. There is found here a very interesting conclusion that the Temple itself, like those visiting it, must adapt to the overwhelming presence/arrival of the King. What this does is actually cast a greater glory on the Temple---even its permanent structure exudes a sense that it cannot contain the presence of its owner/king. In this way the Temple would continuously ‘shimmer’ due to the fact that it must, continuously, and like the ‘visitors’, be malleable. Theology has formulated this sense by saying that in ever revelation of Yhwh, there is also revealed a greater distance. Even when Yhwh establishes a ‘home’ within his creation in his Temple, there is an intense sense that this establishment (this ‘fixing’) also reveals an ever greater sovereignty of Yhwh. No matter how grand the Temple could be, it will always need to grow ‘higher’ in order for Yhwh to dwell there. In other words, although Yhwh can dwell in the Temple, he is not contained (or circumscribed) by the Temple. Isaiah 6 gives a very good sense of how overpowering this sense of Yhwh’s presence in the temple can be: only the train of his gowns actually fill the temple while he sits upon the throne in the heavenly temple. “The King of Glory”: this is, I believe, the only place in the OT where this description occurs, and it is use used no less than five times. The term ‘glory’ is a fairly pregnant term. It often denotes the ‘heaviness’one feels in the presence of a royal figure (their sovereign power ‘bearing down’ on the person). In relation to Yhwh, his ‘glory’ is his visible self-manifestation (often in the fire-cloud). There are other important aspects to this, specifically in light of the psalms derivation of the arc procession. The widow of Phineas, the high priest of 1 Sam, names her child “Ichabod” after the arc was stolen (the name means “the glory has departed”). The arc, therefore, was a type of physical emblem of Yhwh’s presence and operated in many ways like the fire-cloud; it was, in fact, his throne and he ‘dwelled’ or ‘sat’ above the cherubim (again, see Isaiah 6 for a description of this as well).

Notice too how the first question and answer focused on the sufficiency of the worshippers. Here, the question and answer focuses on the sufficiency of the Templeitself, thereby drawing attention to the absolute uniqueness and total sovereignty of Yhwh.

Whatever its original use, in the context of this psalm this ‘entrance’ of the King of Glory has taken on different aspects. As we have already seen, the psalms has focused on Yhwh’s ‘ownership of’ and ‘dwelling within’ the earth/world. Through the use of the verbs ‘fixing’ and ‘establishing’we are supposed to see the act of creation as Yhwh’s ‘battle’ with the waters of chaos; this image is not foreign to the OT and can be seen in Isaiah, the psalms (particularly 74, I believe) and Job. It seems, then, that if the original setting of this “King of Glory” portion of the psalm was in Yhwh returning from battle, here it refers to Yhwh as King who battles chaos and establishes creation. Incidentally, this would explain why this psalm survived in the Psalter long after the arc was lost. If this is the case it may explain why Yhwh’s name is mentioned six times: to represent the six days of creation. So we find here not simply the “Creator” coming to his home/Temple; rather, we find the King Creator—the king who, in creating asserts his mastery, in an act of conquering force, over chaos—coming to his established/fixed home/Temple. It is a different image than in Genesis but no less powerful. It is this King who is now coming (this is his parousia) and is on his way. It seems as if the people, and indeed the Templeitself, are shaking in anticipation of his arrival. There is one final aspect to the ‘raising’ of this Temple: when one ‘raises one’s head’, one is performing an act of worship. Not only is the Templecalled upon to ‘expand’ to allow Yhwh to enter, but it is, itself, called upon to perform an act of homage/worship to Yhwh as he approaches. Now, for the question: “Who / then / is the King of Glory? – Yhwh / strong and mighty; -Yhwh / mighty in battle.” This confirms our conclusions above; the only actions performed thus far by Yhwh are his ‘fixing’ and ‘establishing’. Here, the “king of Glory” is identified as such by the fact that he is a conquering warrior. Creation is here matched with the ‘battle’ as described above against chaos. If this Psalm was used in a liturgy, as it probably was, it would confirm our other intuition: that creation is not an act performed but an ongoing establishment and, likewise, it is carried out and forward in and through those who accommodate themselves to Yhwh’s ‘coming’. And this just occurred to me: the purpose of creation is not only to be a vessel of blessing—it is to be a vessel of Yhwh…(perhaps we can return to this later). The refrain is taken up again, with the only change being that in answer to “Who is the king of glory” we find “Yhwh Sabaoth (Yhwh, of hosts) – he is the king of glory”. The ‘hosts’ likely refers to heavenly beings and, at this point we might consider what role these ‘hosts’play in the ‘fixing’ and ‘establishing’. The psalm does not specify but does seem to hint at (“Let us make man in our image…”).

Ps. 23

There have been various ways of attempting to locate the setting of the psalm. Here, I want to offer, by way of a preliminary to the psalm, my interpretation. It is motivated primarily by looking at the verb tense of the psalm, when the present tense is used and the ‘goal’ of the psalm. The psalm begins in the present tense, “Yhwh is my shepherd” and then moves into the future/trust: “I shall not want”. From this point on the tense is primarily future, focusing on what Yhwh ‘will do’ for the psalmist, by detailing, geographically, where the psalmist is going to travel: meadows, placid waters, valley of death’s shadow. Then, the present tense emerges again:“For you are with me” only to move, again, into the future “Your rod and your staff, they shall comfort me.” The psalm ends with the palmist returning to the Temple “I shall dwell again in the house of Yhwh for days without end.” It seems to me a likely interpretation is that this some type of ‘exit psalm’, a psalm spoken as one left the Temple and anticipated a future return. Right now he is in the Temple (Yhwh is my shepherd; For you are with me); as he leaves, he knows that Yhwh will shepherd him through the time leading to his return (and I shall dwell again in the house of Yhwh). Arguably, we might even see here a descent from the Jerusalem mount into the valley below (valley of the shadow of death) during which time Yhwh will protect him and provide for him. Upon his return Yhwh will “spread a table for me, before my enemies”, at a sacrificial banquet in the Temple (this interpretation is more tenuous). It is, in a sense, a psalm that speaks of one “leaving Eden” only to ‘return’ to the ‘promised land’ again after the exile of the time in between which will be marked with many parallels to Exodus and Yhwh’s provision/protection for Israel during their ‘wanderings’. Arguably, failing to remove King from the will would be a waiver of any release whereby King agrees to renounce any right in her estate. Any attempt to avoid this result will therefore have to come from King himself in the form of a disclaimer.  Yhwh / is my shepherd; - I shall / not want. These lines, in their apparent simplicity, are full of concealed depths. “my shepherd”: of the many unique things about this possessory word is the fact that while it is not uncommon to describe Yhwh as ‘my God’, Yhwh is almost always regarded as Israel’s shepherd, not an individual’s. “Shepherd”: one thing we have noted in other psalms is the fact that ‘shepherd’ is often a description of a king; David is the ‘shepherd’ of Israel and when, in Ezekiel, the ‘shepherds’ are struck the lambs are left to wander over the mountains, vulnerable to the prey of animals (referring to the ‘cutting off’ of kings). Furthermore, and more close to our psalm, is the fact that Yhwh was designated as ‘shepherd’ during the Exodus and the subsequent wanderings of Israel. It has always seemed significant to me that the Name was revealed precisely in the context of deliverance, of ‘shepherding’; that it was not revealed in the context of abstract speculation (it was revealed to deliver). Indeed, here we see that to understand Yhwh is to understand the fact that he is ‘shepherd’. The designation as ‘shepherd’ is important, in this way, because the ‘shepherd’exists only as a relational being: without ‘sheep’ there is no ‘shepherd’. It is appropriate then, to say Yhwh is “my” shepherd rather than the more abstract“Yhwh is a shepherd”. While Yhwh may have a ‘relation to himself’, when he reveals himself in the giving of his name, he reveals himself for Israel: i.e. as shepherd. One might say that “to Yhwh” is “to shepherd”. It is significant that this psalmist has claimed Yhwh for himself; all of the historical memory of Yhwh as Israel’s shepherd from the exodus onward is concentrated on him. In light of this fact one could almost predict the rest of the psalm: to designate Yhwh as ‘shepherd’is to acknowledge the beginning of an ‘exit’, of a journey to a promised land, during which Yhwh will lend his protection. In a sense, to say Yhwh is shepherd is to point to the future and an acknowledgment of danger that lies ahead. The second line confirms this: “I shall not want”. Once the import of Yhwh as the exodus-shepherd is uncovered, this statement becomes rather remarkable. It is what Israel refused to say, time and again, under Yhwh’s shepherding care. Rather, they murmured for things they used to have (the ‘flesh pots of Egypt’), or did not currently posses (‘meat’). Here, in a statement of utter faith and trust, the psalmist declares, in confidence, that the journey he is about to embark on (the ‘exodus’)—he will not turn back because he knows Yhwh will provide for him (both protection and provision). This simple assertion, though, does not mean he will not suffer the same vicissitudes Israel faced: thirst, hunger and danger; he acknowledges, later, that he is going to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Rather, contra-Israel’s response, he will not ‘murmur’against Yhwh because his desires/safety will be conformed to Yhwh’s guiding protection (not the other way around, as Israel attempted to do in the dessert). It is telling that everything in this psalm is resolutely future-oriented. Although he draws on images from the exodus, his focus (the horizon of his desires) are rooted in the future. Everything revolves around what Yhwh ‘will do’. This is not so much a rejection of the past (the exodus, again, is the leaven of the psalm); rather, unlike Israel, he is focused, entirely, on where he is being ‘led’. This is a ‘following psalm’ (except for one important deviation where the psalmist, in fact, will be the one ‘followed’). In grassy meadows / he will make me / lie down. A quote from Exodus 15:13: “In your steadfast love you led the people whom you redeemed; you guided them by your strength to your holy abode.” Apparently the word “abode”has resonances with the word ‘meadows’ and could be translated as ‘pasture’. That being the case, it is clear that the exodus-motif is close to the surface of the psalm (once again).

One thing to note, throughout the psalm, is the fact that Yhwh is the active partner, while the psalmist is, primarily, passive. This is just an abstract way of describing the metaphor of shepherd/sheep, but I do think it points to something important. The exodus imagery is very close to the surface of the psalm. As we have already noted in reflecting on the second line, the psalmist is adopting an attitude of trust that the Israelites, largely, did not have: he will not grumble or kick or look back. We might, then, say it this way; rather than the psalmist being ‘passive’,he is ‘responsive’. When Yhwh leads, he follows after. When Yhwh provides for him places of rest, he rests. When Yhwh provides him water, he drinks. And when he is in danger, he does not fear. The psalm steadily emphasizes this through the ‘he will’ refrain. The problem with abstractly describing this relationship is we lose the sense of the shepherd as being ‘for the sheep’ and the ‘sheep for the shepherd’. This is not ‘obedience’ is the sense of ‘duty’. By conjuring up images of himself as a sheep to Yhwh to the shepherd, the psalmist shows that his entire being is one tied to Yhwh (not merely his sense of ‘duty’ or ‘obligation’or ‘response’). There is no ‘remainder’ to him that is not met by Yhwh’s governance and protection. When he ‘lies down’ in grassy meadows or ‘drinks’ by placid waters, his entire being is cared for and his desires are met. In contrast to the Israelites in the exodus, this psalmist has no ‘Egypt’ left in him, no memory that would pull him away from his being as a sheep. Rather, he strains forward, behind the leading and protecting stride of Yhwh. Is it not interesting that the image is carried forward solely by Yhwh? The psalmist never describes himself as s as a sheep.

A final reference to the exodus can be seen in the fact that Yhwh shepherds the psalmist “for his name’s sake”. In Ps. 106.9 we read that Yhwh delivered Israel from Egypt, “for his name’s sake”, specifically by dividing the Reed Sea in two. We have had the chance in previous reflections to comment on how Israel is Yhwh’s ‘reputation’ in the world by the fact that they bear his name. It is for that reason that why Yhwh moves to save Israel“for his name’s sake” he is moving to redeem them in a act of justice to guarantee his name’s reputation is not tarnished in the face of the nations. Here, the psalmist is himself, in his walking after Yhwh, similar to Israel: he will be protected and guided so that Yhwh’s name will be glorified and kept holy. It is reassuring to him that Yhwh will protect him not for his sake, but for Yhwh’s sake. One final note about the imagery: because it is so saturated in the language of the exodus, and because it is so future oriented, the psalmist seems to have found this confidence (and warmth of imagery) by and through his understanding of the exodus (and not, necessarily, through his ‘personal experience’). It is exodus imagery that shapes his stance (or, his following) of Yhwh.

There is a further important observation to make in regard to this line. One would not be surprised, in light of the previous verses, to read something to the effect that “He will lead me in paths of righteousness, and bless me.” The previous assertions and those that follow all focus on what the shepherd provides for the psalmist (food, water and protection). Here, however, in the midst of these provisions we find the focus of the ‘benefit’ as falling on Yhwh. This, however, must be understood, for the psalmist, as being as similar in kind to the other provisions. This is rather shocking—for the psalmist, Yhwh’s steadfast devotion to “his name”, is just as much a source of comfort and lack of ‘want’ as the other provisions. For the psalmist, his ‘grounding’is not, in fact, totally in himself; it is, rather, in Yhwh’s devotion to Himself and, in this devotion, the psalmist is caught up. For Yhwh to be devoted to himself does not mean he is self-centered. Rather, it includes the protection of the psalmist. He is a mode of Yhwh’s glorification (if, in fact, for Yhwh to preserve someone is to glorify himself). And this, rather than being a source of alienation for the psalmist, is as intimate a provision for him as food, water and protection from death.

“Even though / I shall walk – in the valley / of death’s shadow, - I shall / fear / no evil.”Every verse before has been one of future orientation: he will make me lie down; he will lead me; he will refresh my soul; he will lead me. Here, for the first time, the future is one of evil. Just as sure as the psalmist is to be lead by Yhwh is he also to encounter the ‘valley of the shadow of death’.

“For you / are with me, - your rod / and your staff, - they comfort me.” Here, we have a shift in the psalm: Yhwh is directly addressed. Prior to this Yhwh has been described in the third person. The shift is appropriate here as these lines represent a summary of what has come before. Likewise, it also bears a close resemblance in tone to the opening line of “Yhwh is my shepherd – I shall not want.” There, the lines flowed into descriptions of provision, protection and leading. Here, the ‘rod and staff’ function in much the same way. The ‘rod’ was used to fend off attacking creatures while the staff was used to guide the sheep (presumably to places of food, water and “in paths of righteousness”). In a similar way, the “I shall not want” is very similar to the “they comfort me”. Indeed, they work as fitting foils to each other, one pointing to an absence, and the other to a presence. Yhwh surrounds the psalmist and is his ‘patron’, with all the filial (and covenantal) ties this would conjure. It is also at this point that the psalm breaks free of the shepherding metaphor, although it does retain elements of what went before: “You / will spread / a table / for me – before my enemies.” This is not a foreign image; it refers back, in many ways, to Yhwh ‘leading the sheep’ to ‘grassy meadows’.I’ve rarely seen this happen—where the metaphor is shed but the action is retained in a more explicit fashion. In the first instance, we saw it a reference back to the exodus; here, it may very well be picking up on that idea as Israel was in ‘being led to Yhwh’s pasture’ being navigated through their enemies. Their ‘wandering’ was a time when Yhwh was their Warrior King. So perhaps what we have here is a reflection back on the exodus, through the shepherding image, but from a different perspective or vantage point. This is probably confirmed by reference to Psalm 78:19, where the rebellious Israelites ask whether Yhwh can “spread a table for them in the wilderness”. I also wonder whether what we are seeing here is looking forward to the final lines: “I shall dwell again in the house of Yhwh for days without end.” If this is so, ‘preparing the table’ could be a reference to his return to the Templeand the preparation of the sacrificial meal. The psalm now moves from the image of a feast to the image of ‘drinking’. “You have anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows.” Again, the first half of the psalm drew our attention to Yhwh leading the psalmist to water. Here, when the image has been removed, we retain a vestige of it in “the cup” which overflows (which is, itself, a metaphor). The ‘anointing’ likely refers to the oil poured on the guest of the banquet; hence, it has already happened (perhaps we are to see here the fact that the psalmist, in line with what we have said about the psalm’s setting, has already participated within a banquet at the Temple, has already been ‘anointed’ and is looking forward, with confidence, to his return to the Temple to celebrate the same liturgical rites). The image of a cup ‘overflowing’ is important in that the psalmist’s life (his cup) is not one that is simply filled, but one that is lavish—this only adds more poignancy to the opening lines of “I shall not want”.Not only will he not ‘want’, he will be filled to overflowing. This sense of Yhwh acting abundantly, beyond all boundaries is something that has marked many of our psalms. Many psalmists have a deep sense (either creation or in Yhwh’s providing for them) that Yhwh is always ‘more’; he is celebratory in his blessings (as nature is in its giving voice to Yhwh’s glory). How this is conveyed in this psalm is a little difficult to express: the psalmist affirms he will be obedient to Yhwh unlike the Israelites in the dessert (meaning, he will not complain about returning to the ‘fleshpots’ of Israel). In this sense, his stance is one centered totally on Yhwh and his ‘leading’. There is a marked poverty to this position (in contrast to the Israelites demanding of food and water and protection). However, this poverty is met, not simply with provision, but with ‘overflowing’—with wealth. And this, the psalmist expects. It is an impressive balancing, and one that comes, I think, only from a psalmist who has a rather intimate knowledge and relationship with Yhwh. And now, the psalmist is no longer the one ‘following’ but the one being ‘chased’. “Surely / goodness and lovingkindness / shall pursue me – all the days of my life…” It is appropriate that this idea follows the ‘overflowing’ cup—the tables have turned. And now the lover has become the beloved of Yhwh. Again, we are in the presence of what can be called ‘grace’, of the uncontrollable, yet utterly overflowing and free movement of Yhwh toward his people. Now, Yhwh’s goodness and lovingkindness (his covenantal bond with the psalmist) will themselves seek out and chase the psalmist much like the psalmist sought out and chased Yhwh as a sheep. Perhaps, here, we find why the shepherding image has been abandoned: no longer is the psalmist a sheep, but rather is one pursued by Yhwh. Also, important to note here is the future orientation of the psalm finds expression here in Yhwh’s pursuit of the psalmist “all the days of my life…”. While the paslmist had been utterly future oriented in the first half of the psalm, this is now met by Yhwh’s covenantal (and overflowing) bond toward him into his future. Although the image of a dance has been perhaps overused, it seems appropriate here, with the psalmist and Yhwh moving together (following and chasing) for the entirely of the psalmist’s life. “And I shall / dwell again / in the house of Yhwh – for days / without end.” There have been three “I shall(s)”in the psalm: “I shall not want”; “I shall not fear”; “I shall dwell again…”.The first opened the psalm, the second fell in the middle and this one closes the psalm. And, at this closing we find the psalmist looking forward to the time when he will ‘dwell’ again in Yhwh’s house—perhaps here representing the summation of the other two ‘I shall(s)’: in Yhwh’s house is all provision and all absence of fear. Likewise, it is in Yhwh’s house where he will be in the presence of the “God of the living” and will therefore dwell there “for days without end”. Finally, Yhwh’s name here provides the bookend to the psalm. His name opened the psalm (“Yhwh is my shepherd”), and now he closes it. The first emphasized Yhwh’s ability to move with the psalmist as he travels; the second emphasizes Yhwh “at home”, in stability in the Temple. This tracks the ‘movement’ of the psalm as well—from moving out from the Templeand back. As he travels he will be guarded by Yhwh-shepherd; when he returns he will dwell with Yhwh in his home. At that point, his ‘life’ of overflowing will become “days without end”.

Ps. 22 (part 2)

You have / answered me! – Let me tell / of your name / to my brethren, - I will praise you / in the midst / of the congregation. Everything from this point on is different. There could be no greater, and more abrupt, reversal than what we find here. Reaching back to the very beginning of the psalm (ln. 3), the psalmist finds himself ‘answered’ whereas before nothing but silence seemed to blanket him. Likewise, this simple assertion directly contradicts the mocking of the scorners: Yhwh has, in fact, delivered/rescued him. Whereas before the only voices the psalmist could hear were those of doubt, mocking and betrayal (Yhwh’s voice was left solely in his memory), now Yhwh speaks and the river begins to flow once again. At this point the pain of memory is relieved as the present and the past begin to find their coordinates in the psalmist. Likewise, before, the psalmist sense of alienation from the past of his ‘fathers’ and his personal past with his ‘mother’, led him to feeling as if he had been disowned from the genetic family of Yhwh. Had he been exiled, for no purpose? One continuously felt as if he was an outsider looking in, with longing for communion with Yhwh’s people. Here, the rift begins to heal: “Let me tell of your name to my brethren.” Yhwh’s deliverance has done several things at once: 1) answered him; 2) reincorporated him back into the family; 3) allowed the Name to begin to be pronounced once again. This final point is one we have already made but it is important to note that the psalm began by saying that Yhwh was ‘enthroned upon the praises of Israel’. The psalmist, however, when he said this, said in the context of a reality he was not a part of. Here, he begins to become one of these ‘supports’. We have noted how the first time the Name appears it was on the lips of the scoffers. The second time it was in the urgent (almost final) plea of the psalmist. Now, however, the prayer has been heard and the Name can become the object of praise, sharing, communion. From this point on the Name will appear with greater frequency. It is as if the name was too difficult to pronounce before, whereas now it flows freely off the psalmist’s lips. There is also this small word, “Let”, which we noted in other contexts. There, the term often was associated with a type of internal judgment Yhwh was to permit to happen to the wicked (“Let their deeds come back on their heads”…). Here, however, the term denotes a sense of pent-up joy and exuberance on the part of the psalmist. Just as, in the judgment context, Yhwh must ‘let happen’ what is going to happen, so too here, the psalmist invokes Yhwh to ‘let me tell of your name’. The sense of restored communion with Yhwh is felt very poignantly here. Dialogue has not only been restored but an intimate and personal one has emerged. This is the voice of the psalmist when healed. And his voice changes dramatically from here on out. You / who fear Yhwh / praise him! – All you / descendants of Jacob / honor him! – And all you / descendants of Israel / stand in awe of him! To say this change of tone is shocking is an understatement. The psalmist has moved from feeling as if he was a ‘worm’ and ‘not a man’, to, here, becoming an instructor (a poignant example of ‘lifting up the lowly’). And he directs his address to all of Yhwh’s people: those who fear him, descendants of Jacob, descendants of Israel. The order may perhaps be important as well: fear : praise; Jacob : honor; Israel : stand in awe. By prefacing the entire group with ‘those who fear him’ as well as ‘praise’, the psalmist may be referring back to the fact that Yhwh is ‘enthroned on the praises of Israel’. Here, at the beginning, then, we see the fact that Yhwh’s enthronement is being heralded, his act of sovereignty. This psalmist is finding himself reintegrated and can now see, from within, the enactment of this sovereignty as he commands/entreats those who fear Yhwh to ‘praise him’. In the context of this psalm, this could be an almost political statement—that Yhwh’s sovereignty is extended by and through the praise of his people. By encouraging this act of praise the psalmist, now from a position of deliverance, can move that power outward.

For he has not despised / and he has not detested – the affliction / of the afflicted; and he has not / hidden his face / from him – but when he / cried for help / he heard him. Here we come to the reason for the praise / honor / awe due to Yhwh. There is something rather perplexing about this: all of these designations, which seem to point to sovereign power/control, typically involve the destruction of foreign enemies. Now, that aspect is probably somewhere present but that is not the focus of these verses. Rather, it is on the fact that Yhwh does not despise/detest the affliction of the afflicted. Yhwh’s sovereign power shines forth out of the fact that he does not despise what is typically despicable. Mercy (the willingness to cross the boundary toward the despicable) is a sign of Yhwh’s ‘honor and awe’ that are due him. This willingness is precisely what the psalmist’s mockers refused to do; they all stood at a distance, jeering and taunting. When they ‘heard his cry’ they cast him back onto Yhwh, refusing any succor. One wonders whether the psalmist had asked himself whether, in fact, he was so afflicted that he was beyond a boundary that Yhwh would not cross. Perhaps he wondered whether the silence of Yhwh was really, at root, the fact that his affliction had removed him too far from Yhwh, that he could no longer be heard, that he lived, in a sense, a purely secular realm ‘without Yhwh’. All of this doubt has been wiped away: Yhwh’s sphere of power extends even to this point of affliction. Someone this despicable is not ‘too far away’ to be heard by Yhwh. One’s voice can be heard from these depths. (One wonders, in light of Christ, if we could not translate these lines to say, “He does not despise the death of the dead”.).

An interesting point of view is also used in these verses: notice how the psalmist is referring to himself in the third person (Yhwh has not hidden his face form the afflicted, but when he cried for help he heard him). In the context of our psalmist’s deliverance this seems important. Before, everything was utterly personal to the psalmist—without a community or family he was alone and left to himself, without even Yhwh. Now, though, he can speak about his experience with some distance, as shown by the fact that he refers to himself as ‘the afflicted’. His experience has been subsumed into the same experience of his ‘fathers’, who trusted in Yhwh and were saved. In essence, he now sees himself as a member of a group (the ‘afflicted’) whom Yhwh preserves and redeems. By being rejoined to Yhwh’s people the psalmist’s experience becomes a piece of the whole, rather than being the whole (as it had been before, when he was alone). This ‘expansion’ of the psalmist only increases as he moves into more broad exclamations of Yhwh’s sovereignty and control. For you / comes my praise / in the great congregation. – I will / fulfill my vows / before those who fear him. – The afflicted / shall eat / and be satisfied; - those who seek him / shall praise Yhwh – may your hearts / live forever! It may be that this first and second line are saying the same thing in different ways: “praise in the great congregation” = “fulfilling my vows before those who fear him.” Read this way, it could be that these ‘vows’ were promises of sacrifice that would be offered in the event the psalmist was delivered/healed. The fact that this takes place publicly and culticly is important in that, as we have seen, part of his immense burden has been his isolation from the people and, probably, from cultic worship. His vow would then have pointed to both of these facts: that he was not able to participate within the cult and that he was isolated. The deliverance signaled both of these could not be rejoined. The turn to ‘eating’ is perhaps strange. Why eating? Maybe this refers to the sacrifice that was brought? “The afflicted” are those who are in the same camp the psalmist was in, and also those whom Yhwh does not ignore and hears. Is this an assertion whereby the psalmist now furthers the ‘testimony of the trusting fathers’? Now that he, an afflicted, has been healed, so too, in the future, will other afflicted come ‘to eat’? Or, perhaps we see here another effect of the “fused tongue to the jawbone.” In his affliction/weakness, the psalmist had not been able to eat. Now, the tongue will be loosened, and strength will again be provided through sustenance. This would seem to be the reason for the ‘eating’ inclusion: throughout the psalm the psalmist has emphasized his growing weakness, not just psychologically, but physically. The fact that food can now pass his lips would, indeed, be one of the many ways that Yhwh’s ‘face’ would be shining on the ‘afflicted’. 

All the ends of the earth / shall remember / and turn to Yhwh. At this point the psalm is reaching its most expansive. This movement from the purely individual and isolated has now broadened out to the “ends of the earth”. This is an astonishing transition. We began with psalm with a man who did not even believe himself to be part of the human race he was so dejected. In addition, his enemies were so overwhelming that he saw them in terms of powerful abstractions: as beasts. Furthermore, at the end of his lament he was nothing but a hollowed out jar, dropped to the earth (presumably shattered) and with absolutely no reserves to draw from. He couldn’t even bring himself to address his attackers. Once Yhwh speaks, though, everything changes: he addresses those around him, his voice returns (in a powerful way), he completely leaves behind his individual situation and now finds himself calling upon all of creation to join in the praising of Yhwh. It is set in the future (the shall remember), but, as with other psalms, it ‘shall’ happen; it is merely a matter of time. No more is the ‘dust’ the end of the psalmist. A question I wonder is whether this ‘turning’ is somehow rooted in his healing (is it because they hear of his healing that they turn?), or is the fact that his vision is so cleared by his redemption that he can, with unobstructed sight, see into the future (as a ‘shall’) and en-vision the earth praising Yhwh (meaning, it is not in relation to him and his redemption but solely on his conviction of Yhwh’s persuasive power). It is at this point that further enhancement is introduced: and all the clans / of the nations / shall worship before you. There is, here, an incredibly important development beyond what we saw in the opening of the psalm. There, we saw that Yhwh was ‘holy and enthroned on the praises of Israel’. Here, when the ‘ends of the earth’ are regarded as ‘remembering’ Yhwh, they are also understood as ‘worshipping before’ Yhwh. In this regard, Yhwh is now the not simply enthroned on the praises of Israel, but enthroned on the worship of the entire world. This is the ‘kingdom of God’. Israel was never to be understood as sealed off in itself, but, rather, it was to be beacon to the ‘ends of the earth’ and, thereby, bring Yhwh’s sovereign control over all the world. When David was anointed, it was to be the beginning not of the ‘kingdom of Israel’ but of the international ‘kingdom of God’ (see Ps. 2). Here, we see that forward looking glance to such a time. For the dominion / belongs to Yhwh – and he is / the one ruling / over the nations. It is not the case that dominion is not Yhwh’, already; rather, the future will be a time when that dominion is acknowledged and ‘worshipped’ as such.

Indeed / all those about to sleep / in the earth – shall bow down / to him – all those about to / descend to the dust / shall bend down / to him. These lines are perplexing. On the one hand it would almost seem like those who are going to descend to Sheol are going to praise Yhwh. That, however, would be very odd in light of other statements regarding Sheol where it is specifically said remembrance of Yhwh cannot be had. On the other hand, these people are not described as dead, yet, but “about to sleep in the earth/dust”. Perhaps we are to see here a reference back to the fact that the psalmist saw himself deposited “in the dust” and those, like him, who are close to death will revive and worship Yhwh. This interpretation would be supported by the immediately following lines: And he / who did not keep / his life – his descendants / shall serve him. Here, we are explicitly told of one who does in fact die. However, his descendants will live to worship Yhwh. These lines indicate the psalmist has gained a perspective on his near-death experience and says that those who are not as blessed as him—those who, in fact, die—will be rewarded by their descendants worshipping Yhwh. This is almost a Job-like answer to the dilemma: meaning, not an answer at all but a distance that emphasizes Yhwh’s freedom. Furthermore, these lines also point in another direction: the fact that even if one dies apart from Yhwh’s blessing, one’s descendants will not, themselves, be removed. In this way, the original anxiety of the psalmist that he had been disowned in some fashion from his ‘fathers’ is healed—the ‘line’ will continue even if he does not. It shall be told / concerning Yhwh / to a generation / that will come; - and they / shall declare his righteousness / to a people / about to be born – what he has done! Here, at the conclusion, the ‘family’ is reintegrated, the story of ‘trust’ is passed down and the rift that opened the psalms is closed. Whereas the psalm opened with an almost questioning of Yhwh’s righteousness (“Why have you forsaken me?”), it closes with the telling, generationally, of Yhwh’s righteousness. And this to a people not even born—those who, like the psalmist, will be ‘taken form their mother’s womb’ by Yhwh and ‘cast upon him’.

Ps. 22 (part 1)

My God, / my God / why have you / forsaken me? My moaning / is of the distance / of my salvation!  O my God / I cry out / by day / but you don’t answer,  and by night / but there is / no rest for me.  In these four lines, three times does the psalmist say, “my God”. When the covenant was originally entered into between Yhwh and Israel, Yhwh said “You will be my people, and I will be your god.” This language seems, then, to immediately place us in the context of covenant. The psalmist does not question this reality: Yhwh is “his god”. This is personal, possessory and something like the appeal of a lover to a beloved. The devotion is singular, absolute and without qualification. The fact that it is repeated twice gives voice to this very emotional plea and attachment to Yhwh; repetition, in this context, always caries with it the sense of betrayed and severely wounded love. But, and this is crucial, this is not a covenant of equals: the psalmist knows he stands on the receiving end, that his partner is his lord and master (his ‘God’); that the covenant was given to him, bestowed upon him. It is from this single-hearted devotion, and the expectation that such possession flowed both ways, that the wrenching cry emerges: “why have you forsaken me”. This is a covenantal cry, not something that could be understood apart from that context in a type of abstract sense. To the psalmist there is no sense of guilt. Whatever has caused the rupture in the covenantal relationship does not emerge with him but seems to stand purely on the side of Yhwh; although I am not sure I would imagine that the work ‘forsaken’ carries with it a sense of covenant negligence.

My moaning / is of the distance / of my salvation. This line represents, in short, the first half of the psalm with use of ‘my’: my moaning – distance – my salvation. The line actually reads like the gulf that separates the psalmist from ‘his salvation’. Likewise, the use of ‘my’ resonates with the opening ‘my god, my god’. Here we enter into the depths of this man’s being; he sides with “his”/”my” God as his covenantal partner and yet at the same time his/my moaning expresses the distance between him and his God/salvation. He is, in effect, torn asunder, inhabiting neither the side of death (where God is ‘not remembered’), nor the side of covenantal solidarity with God (he feels forsaken). This is of the type of anguished love/devotion. “Moaning” is also something we have encountered before in psalms that speak of severe sickness; this type of verbal expression conjures up images of extreme pain, such that uncontrollable moans grind away from the psalmist’s mouth. These moans, however, are not simply of physical pain but, as above, the fact that ‘salvation’ (healing, and restoration) seem to be so far when they should be close at hand. It is, I think, that sense that is so painful: the feeling that his ‘salvation’ is ‘far’ from him while at the same time it is almost palpable. So, again, he returns to his covenantal plea of “O my God” except now we see that the ‘distance’ has caused an interruption in the psalmists experience of time: God’s absence is total (day and night; contrast with Ps. 1 and the one who meditates on torah day and night). For that reason, the daytime is experienced as a perpetual question (no answer) and the nighttime, which should be a time of rest and entering into a ‘new day’, becomes an insomniac nightmare (no rest for me). We have seen this before: the fact that the severity of the psalmist’s anguish is most poignant in sleepless nights. But you / are holy – enthroned / upon the praises / of Israel. This verse represents a type of transition between the lament and the appeal to the ‘faith of our fathers who were saved’. It is therefore important to reflect on. “But you are holy”—Why ‘but’? It is a word of contrast but it is not immediately clear what it is referring to. The previous verses spoke of God as distant and as forsaking the psalmist who deserves to be answered. It would seem them, that this ‘holiness’ of God must be contrasting to these terms. On the other hand it could also refer to the fact that God is ‘holy’ and so set apart that it would be presumptuous of the psalmist to urge more from God than what he has already requested. He is like a petitioner to a great king who, realizing his place, now concedes that his petition has been made and he will no longer presume upon the sovereign’s authority and freedom. I confess it seems both are applicable. The very next description is of God’s ‘enthronement’ upon the ‘praises of Israel’. It is an odd description and one we have not encountered thus far. The image is of God throne being raised above the joyous exclamations and praise of Israel. What follows give’s flesh to this: Our fathers / trusted in you -  they trusted / and you / delivered them.  They cried out / to you / and were delivered;  they trusted in you / and were not disappointed.  

 

Our fathers / trusted in you;  they trusted / and you / delivered them.  They cried out / to you / and were delivered;  They trusted in you / and were not disappointed. There are several things about this transition that deserve attention: First, the ‘our’ is in contrast to the ‘my God, my God’ that has come before. It is likely this refers to the fact that this prayer is a communal event; several are gathered with this sick man in order to pray for him. It is interesting, though, how this move to communal identity alters, to some extent, the prayer (or, perhaps, broadens it). The psalmist places himself in the ‘genetic line’ of a trusting family; hence, he asserts, again, that he is a part of the covenantal family and appeals to the same covenantal reality that saved his family before him. However, at the same time, they seem far removed from the psalmist: they are constantly referred to as “they”. At the same time that the psalmist senses himself a child of these trusting men, he also feels as if he has been disowned in some form or another (this will be most emphatically seen when he describes himself as “not human” and “a worm”). Second, the use of the word “trusted’ is reiterated three times, which seems to relate back to the three times the psalmist refers to god as ‘my God’, or, it may also relate to the three ways God has remained silent (forsaken, not answered, no rest). Whereas his father’s trust was met with deliverance, this son’s crying out/trust is met with silence. These men were ‘not forsaken’, they were answered and they received their rest (deliverance). To the psalmist, something dreadful has happened to sever him, and him in particular, from this covenantal family, and it seems to reside with God. But I am a worm / and not a man. This line directly refers to “But you are holy – enthroned on the praises of Israel.” Whereas God is holy—clean, pure and set apart—the psalmist is the emblem of death and destitution (the worm as referring to the beginnings of the ‘worm of death’ that devours the body). To the psalmist, he has lost even his trace of humanity and become the lowest of animals that feeds on death (nothing could be more impure and the opposite of holy). Whereas Yhwh’s ‘set-apart’ is due to his overpowering holiness and cleanliness, the psalmist is ‘set-apart’ from the community because of his filth and closeness to death:. “scorned by mankind / and despised by people.” He is “not a man” “scorned by mankind”. His alienation is complete, total, and absolute. As far above as God stands in his holiness, he resides below in his filth. Whereas God is ‘enthroned’, he has been cast down and out. The natural kingship that everyone shares due to their being an ‘image of God’ is almost lost to him who is “not a man”. These lines also emphasize that the contrast this way: whereas Yhwh was ‘cired to’ because he represented the power to save, this man is likewise ‘cried at’ but in “scorn’ and “despising”. “All that see me / deride me; they curl their lip / and they shake their heads.” God is the object of blessing; the psalmist is the object of curse. “He trusted in Yhwh / Let him deliver him. Let him rescue him / since he delights in him.” One pictures these men talking to themselves as they watch this spectacle of the ‘worm’ writhing in pain; and they, who could alleviate the suffering, instead place it on Yhwh’s shoulders. They will do nothing, let Yhwh do it. There is a zone or sphere that this man inhabits that the scorners will not enter. It is a shocking thing that Yhwh’s first mention comes on the lips of scorners (we will see in the end that Yhwh is, not surprisingly, mentioned seven times in the psalm), although it is difficult to discern whether this is a mocking of Yhwh or of the man or of both. Read one way, it is not focused as much on Yhwh as the fact that this man is so utterly abandoned. On the other hand, it could be that these scorners are accusing Yhwh of unfaithfulness and abandonment. The use of the word ‘trust’ here is interesting, referring back to the ‘fathers’ who trusted in God. These men/scorners point, rather poignantly, to the fact that this ‘worm’ is utterly removed Yhwh’s care and concern

 

You are the one / who drew me forth / from the belly – the one who made me safe / upon my mother’s breasts. – I was cast upon you / from the womb – from my mother’s belly / you have been my God. There is a very interesting dynamic at work in these two lines: it begins with the assertion of Yhwh as a type of wet-nurse to the psalmist’s birth, ‘drawing’ him ‘forth’ in language reminiscent of deliverance from water (Moses and other psalms speak of being ‘drawn out of’ the water depths). This is matched by the very abstract ‘the belly’; at this point it is not ‘my mother’s’ belly but something akin to an impersonal object. By doing so, the action is entirely Yhwh’s—even the ‘mother’ is absent from this delivery. The image then shifts to Yhwh delicately placing the psalmist upon his ‘mother’s breast’, for feeding and nourishment. He delivers the psalmist over to his mother. Suddenly, the image shifts: no longer is this the image of normal birth but of the psalmist being ‘cast upon’ Yhwh from the womb. Now, the nurturing that was inherent in the image of the feeding breasts is replaced with Yhwh being the sole protector of this child. To be ‘cast upon’ Yhwh highlights a dangerous vulnerability to the child; it is as if he has been shipwrecked and I ‘cast upon’ Yhwh as his only rock of safety. At this point the ‘belly’ reappears but now it is ‘my mother’s belly’ and yet, again, it seems impersonal as to the mother: from my mother’s belly you have been my God. Throughout these two lines then we have Yhwh both delivering, handing over, protecting and being the only source of security to the psalmist. In the context of the psalm this is important for a few reasons: the psalmist claims no other source of protection, from his very birth, other than Yhwh, who now seems to have abandoned him; Yhwh is the one who brought him into this world, and it seems as if the psalmist is saying he has some type of responsibility to make sure he is not removed from this world unnaturally; by using the term ‘my god’, he is directly referring back to the opening lines and highlighting that he has, from his very conception, been a ‘covenantal’ being/partner of Yhwh—his very birth is marked by a type of adoption by Yhwh as one of his own. In some way, he is Yhwh’s son/child. Noticeably absent in these lines is the ‘father’—only the mother is mentioned. Perhaps, his absence points to the fact that Yhwh has been his ‘father’, in some form. Or, perhaps this ‘father’ has already been mentioned (‘our fathers trusted in you…’). Maybe, it was through his ‘fathers’ that he was born into the covenantal community, and through his ‘mother’ that he was given life. There is, manifestly, a concern here with the totality of human familial connections (‘our fathers’…my ‘mother’s belly’), both of which point to covenantal bonds in their comprehensiveness—and the fact that the psalmist feels as if he has been abandoned/disowned. This image will be picked up again later on in the section dealing with Yhwh’s answer; there, the generations will be healed. What deserves comment here thought is this sense that the psalmist finds himself ‘always already’ at Yhwh’s service: Yhwh ‘pulled him’ into the world and he was ‘cast upon’ Yhwh from his earliest remembrance. Don’t be distant/ from me – for trouble / is near – there is certainly / no helper!  These lines should be read in the context of the above: since you, Yhwh, delivered me into this world, now do not be distant from me. In addition, the ‘distance’ referred to here must also refer back to the fact that the psalmist’s ‘moaning’ is “of the distance of my salvation”. And, what has already been made manifest by the fact that he sees himself as merely a worm that ‘everyone’ mocks, this psalmist is alone. There is no ‘salvation’ for him. Many bulls / have surrounded me - mighty bulls / of Bashan / have encircled me. – They have opened / their mouths, - like a lion / about to rend and roar. There are two things interesting about these lines: the first is that throughout the psalm the ‘enemies’ are going to be characterized as beasts of some sort (bulls, lions or dogs). This is interesting in light of the fact that the psalmist has also called himself an animal—a ‘worm’—and ‘not a man’. Are we to see here something to the effect that these enemies are also ‘not human’ in the sense that they have lost their ‘image of God’ and become nothing more than beasts? Or, are we to see here the fact that in Yhwh’s ‘absence’, the wicked become horrendous, powerful beasts? (And, are these two questions essentially the same thing?) And, I wonder how much this idea plays into apocalyptic images of beasts: enemy nations are always characterized as beasts (bears, lions, etc…). This leads into the second point: these are bulls that act like lions. Bulls, as is later evident, ‘gore’—but here they open their mouths like lions to rend and tear. This combining of images from different animals lends itself to rather horrifying image—something also very characteristic of apocalyptic literature (the combining of various animal parts into a single entity). As to the specific animals: this is the first time we have encountered bulls; lions have been, by far, the most common image. I have been / poured out / like water, - and all my bones / have become disjointed; my heart was like wax; - it melted / within my inwards. – my strength / dried up / like a potsheard, - and my tongue / was fused / to my jaws. From the description of the impending and congregating beasts, we now turn inward. “poured out like water”: might this refer to tears? Or, are we to see his strength ‘pouring’ out of him? It is a particularly disturbing image regardless of how it is taken, although the second I find much more poignant, and emotionally descriptive of the feeling of helplessness. “Bones have become disjointed”: in Psalm 6, I believe, the sick man complained that his bones had become ‘disturbed’. Here, we find the image of, literally, ‘coming undone’. Following and developing on the previous image we see a type of progression: strength and vitality as turning from hardness and security into water and ‘pouring out’ of the psalmist, to, here, the image of the bones, themselves, now dissolving and losing their cohesiveness. He is becoming dispersed, separated from himself, and dissolving. To further the image of becoming ‘incorporeal’—the heart, the seat of all reason and emotion, is now the image of wax under an intense heat: it melts, it loses its shape and its consistence. Any form, formerly impressed upon it (any ‘image’) is lost within the furnace of the impending beasts. We see here the image of the heart actually dissipating, melting within the ‘innards’ and disappearing. This man senses that his life is, literally, ebbing away. At the end of these images of ‘pouring’ and ‘water’ we are left with a dessert: he is nothing but a dried up potsherd; he has become hollowed out and nothing but wind remains inside. He is fragile as a clay vessel. And finally, even his ability to communicate this tortuous ordeal is taken from him. Not only is he alone, without any helper, but he is alone to himself: he cannot even speak under the weight of the doom surrounding him. Notice how the tongue is the object of the verb: my tongue was fused to my jaw. It is as if these enemies, or the anxiety they induce, were the perpetrators. This man is truly portrayed as the victim, nothing but the recipient of these forces. This is the farthest cry from the ‘child’ who had been ‘safely put upon my mother’s breast’, where he drank in strength. “And you deposited me / in deaths dust.” Here, in a type of horrible conclusion, we find Yhwh returning this man, merely ‘depositing him’, in death’s dust. A conclusion because this line feels very similar to when Yhwh ‘delivered’ the psalmist in birth. Now, by contrast he is ‘delivering’ him to death. The sense here is of a progressive ‘drying up’, of becoming more and more fragile, to the point where he is but an empty jar dropped (discarded?) onto the ground. This also picks up on the theme of him as feeling abandoned by his covenantal family (he no longer seems a part of his ‘fathers’ and now is the reverse of who he was with his ‘mother’).
For dogs / have surrounded me; - a pack of thugs / have encompassed me. – My hands / and my feet / were exhausted. – I count all my bones. Again, we are the realm of the beast rather than the human. We have already noted how the ‘human’ has slipped from this psalm; the psalmist describes himself as a ‘worm’ and, specifically, as ‘not a man’; his enemies have been described (only) in terms of bestiary (oxen and lions and, here, dogs). It probably goes without saying but these are all menacing creatures: the oxen stands for a type of brutal strength; the lion for its speed and violence in its kill. Here, dogs speak of a different image: a roving, menacing and chaotic group of enemies. Dogs, alone, are not of as much threat; it is when they travel in ‘packs’ that they can become terrifying. An ox can gore, a lion can tear at the throat, dogs, though, tear at a person from every direction (if you kill one, it is of little consequence). It is precisely their number that we are too fear here: they ‘surround’, they are a ‘pack’, the ‘encompass’. The ox and the lion have been multiplied into a surrounding and pressing force, bent on his destruction. It is because of this awareness that images of utter fear and helplessness again emerge; and, just as total as the dogs are, so too is the total weakness of psalmist. He knows he has no chance of escape. In the face of the ‘lion’ his bones became ‘disjointed’; here, again, his bones can ‘be counted’. He is intimately aware of how frail his entire life has become. They stare / and look at me! – They divide / my garments / among themselves – and cast lots / for my clothing. At this point of total vulnerability we pause, briefly, and move away from the psalmist and back to the dogs—and what they are doing is worse than tearing at him. Their ‘stare’ is horrible; it heightens the sense of finality and horror that the psalmist is about to encounter. It is the playing (tormenting) gaze of the enemy who knows he has his prey, but wants to psychologically torture him before physically destroying him. In this way one senses the joy these ‘dogs’ feel at watching this man ‘melt’. This is pleasurable to them. Horribly, this must be similar to the feeling of woman staring a gang of men before she is raped, and the pleasure those men derive in watching her squirm. Now, without preparation, the physical violence begins—although only its effect is described (the actual stripping of his clothes is never mentioned). They divide / my garments / among themselves – Instead of tearing at his flesh they have torn off his clothing. To be stripped naked in this manner is something that resonates throughout the prophets (Israel is often described as a woman who Yhwh will strip in front of her lovers, in public). It is utter and total shame. They uncover what Yhwh covered upon Adam and Eve’s expulsion in order to hide their shame. It is particularly effective that the actual stripping takes place ‘off-stage’. Throughout, and surprisingly, there has been no physical violence to the psalmist: the ox’s threat was found in the fact that he had ‘a mouth like a lion’; the dogs surrounded, but merely ‘looked at him’. Here, the violence begins as a stripping, a humiliation. It is still psychological, a preparation for something worse. This form of exposure is, perhaps, the worse and highest form of torture these men can engage in prior to physical violence. As we have noted in other psalms, this is incredibly important in a culture where honor and shame are central; this is no stoic individual—his sense of self is part-and-parcel with the community. To be shamed in this way is intentionally barbaric and an attempt to truly destroy something in this man—his pride/honor/respect. In this way, this could look back to the lines where he describes himself as a ‘worm’ and not a man, “scorned and despised” by mankind. In this shaming he has, himself, lost his humanity because his identity is tied to those around him. In a sense, the worse possible form of ‘defilement’, in this context, would be to be made a spectacle. It is no surprise then that, at the height of this torture, we finally come around to the cry to Yhwh: But you / O Yhwh / do not be distant!   
This statement really does stand at almost the direct middle of the poem and there are a few things of importance to recognize about it. First, it is only the second time (out of ‘seven’) that Yhwh’s name appears. The first, as described above, was on the lips of the mockers—they mocked this ‘worm’, that Yhwh would have to come to his aid because no one else was going to (or, were they making fun of Yhwh, and the fact that he couldn’t come to his aid? Or, were they saying that this man is so deplorable that no god would come to his aid?). Whatever their intent they were doubting that Yhwh would, in fact, deliver the psalmist from death. It was an accusation that his ‘trust’ in Yhwh would go unfulfilled. Here, we find the psalmist not losing his faith but, rather, expressing that rust in his plea/demand. This represents, then, a reversal, a combative assertion against the attacker/mockers/oxen/lions/dogs, that Yhwh will in fact draw close. Which leads to the second observation: those who are currently ‘close’ are the attackers (the dogs who surround/encompass). The constant refrain throughout has been that Yhwh is distant, and far away; the ‘distance of my salvation’ is the reason for his groaning. However, there has been another use of ‘distance’: those who see this man in his shame will not draw near to him; rather they stand far off and mock him (I think this is one reason why physical violence is not emphasized as much as verbal; no one wants to get close to him, probably for fear of contamination). Here, the psalmist asks that Yhwh come close to him in his wretchedness and unholiness. In this way Yhwh will overcome both problems: he will deliver him from his attackers as well as heal him of what distances him from his human community (if Yhwh draws close he will be healed and therefore brought back into communion, Job-like). In a sense this is a request that Yhwh reintegrate the psalmist back into his ‘family’: through his mother (personally visiting him and heal him) and his father (honoring his trust as his people had). From this point on Yhwh’s name will flow easily off of the psalmist’s tongue and every distance that had been created by the first half will be closed.

O my help / hasten to my aid! – Deliver my soul / from the sword, - my life / from the paw of the dog. – Save me / from the mouth of the lion, - from the horns / of wild oxen. There is no mistaking, from what has gone before, that this man has no interior resources (or exterior) from which to draw on: Yhwh is the only ‘help’ he is able to call on. Likewise, as has been described above, the final act is about to descend upon him; he has already been exposed and the only thing left for him is physical death. For that reason, Yhwh must ‘hasten’ to him. And, for the first time in describing his enemies, something human emerges: a ‘sword’. Set up as parallelism, this ‘sword’ is matched by the ‘paw of the dog’, the ‘mouth of the lion’ and the ‘horns of wild oxen’. This order reverses the order they have appeared in the psalm—oxen-lion-dog (is now) dog-lion-oxen. Yhwh is called upon to be the ultimate ‘reverser’, setting things to right, beginning with those who are closest to him (the dogs) and proceeding to the those who are strongest in themselves (the ox). This ‘reversal’ concludes the first half of the psalm. The ‘reversal’ will continue, however, in its fulfillment in part two.