Ps. 63.1 (longing and Temple)

O God
You are my God / whom I seek;
my soul / thirsts for you
my body / longs for you
like a land / parched and weary / from lack of water. 

There is a seemingly obvious point to make about this verse that contains, I think, a profound point: that the psalmist is praying to God, who he calls “my God”, and yet describing his removal/distance from him. Notice the dynamic: God is designated in the possessive (“my god”) and yet, at the same time, the psalmist’s entire being is longing and thirsting for him. He simultaneously “has” God and does not. He can speak to him, and yet also desire to ‘drink’ and ‘see’ him. On the one hand, this is not so profound. It is similar to any form of communication between separated lovers. On the other hand, there are important insights to this. First, by describing God as “my God” the psalmist orients himself within the covenantal relationship (“I will be your God, and you will be my people”). Covenantal terms will recur (“loyal-love”, vs. 3). This covenantal aspect, however, is almost overshadowed by Temple imagery. Indeed, the “meeting place” and consummation of his longing is not in a mystical insight or spirituality but “in the sanctuary” (vs. 2). It is there that he has “seen” God, “beholding your strength and glory”. It is there, “under your wings”, that he is fed “with the food of a feast” (vs. 5). The Temple is the home of his praise (vs. 3,4,5,7,11) and the object of his longing. With this in mind we can see something more than simply a general ‘longing’ for God—it is a longing that originates from an experience of God in the Temple and desires that communion again. This very concrete reference is important too when we see how incredibly physical this psalm is. Nearly everything is oriented to a bodily experience: “my soul thirsts for you”, “my body longs for you”, “like a land parched…”, “I have seen you..”, “my lips praise you”, “I lift up my hands”, “as with food of a feast my soul is satisfied”, etc… The reason, as we have said, is that the goal is the physical Temple (the dwelling/home of God). The final point to make is this: that the longing for God originates in the experience of God the psalmist has had in the Temple previously (vs. 2). As with any lover, it is the experience of his (the psalmist’s) absence from the Temple, that creates this strong, bodily, desire to commune again with God. What this points to is that his current sense of lack points to a very profound experience of abundance. Only an over-powering and effluent experience of God could produce such a drastic sense of deprivation.  One wonders if, with the construction of the Temple and its centralization (away from the many shrines), this type of central longing for a particular place of communion, was not intended by God in order to heighten, purify and focus the longing of his people into a single place (as God is One). And, could we say that this focus (wittingly and unwittingly performed by God and Hezekiah), was to prepare the people for the full ‘enfleshment’ of God in one man, the new Temple, such that now all of this longing can be taken, nearly without interruption, into Christ?

Ps. 62.9-11 (breath-people)

Yes / ordinary people / are only a breath
an illusion / are people of rank
rising / on the balance!
Altogether / they weigh / less than a breath.
Trust not / in extortion
and in plunder / take no empty pride
when wealth / bears fruit
do not / set your heart on it. 

We have already alluded to this verse many times in the previous reflections. What we have noticed is that these “ordinary people” and “those of high rank” are marked by an incredible insubstantiality. Indeed, they are so light that, on scales, they actually rise; they have no ‘weight’ to them. This stands in stark contrast to the statement by the psalmist that, in God, he is “rock-strong” and “secure”. That “in him” he, and the people, have ‘refuge’. At first glance, it would seem that the only real contrast would be between his ‘weightiness’ as a ‘rock’ and their total lack of weight. However, that would miss the fact that many of the following words of “security” and “refuge” are related. In psalm 1, the wicked are “blown away like chaff”. A mere breeze causes them to be removed, whereas the righteous remain. This sense is present in other psalms as well: that the weightlessness of the wicked is precarious precisely because when judgment comes they will not be able to weather the storm. This is why the contrast is so important in this psalm—the psalmist and God’s people are ‘heavy’ with God’s power by being found ‘secure’ in him and a ‘refuge’ in him. The point, I believe, is that the psalmist is here talking about “ordinary” and “high” people as they exist apart from God’s power; he is not talking about himself and those who ‘our out their hearts’ before him (vs. 8). We see confirmation of this by looking back at verse 3 where the psalmist sarcastically asks how long the wicked will attack “a person” and plan to push down a “person of high status”—somewhat parallel to the “ordinary” person and the one of “high rank” in our verse. Except—there, the wicked’s attempts at destruction would be thwarted precisely because those they attack “wait for God”, find in him a “refuge and stronghold” and “pour out their hearts before him”. Here, the ‘refuge’ of God is against, not so much the wicked, but the vanity of the world, the weakness of it separated from God. This ‘vanity’ of the world is marked by: extortion, plunder and wealth. One must not “trust” in these things (vs. 10) but rather “trust in him at all times” (vs. 8). It is only by placing trust in God that one enters into his forever and becomes ‘rock-strong’ (vs. 6). Man, as breath, tends to latch onto those things which provide an element of permanence, as found in extortion, plunder and wealth. The first two represent a form of taking, and therefore an appropriation of power and prestige; the third is natural emblem of strength. To a person of mere breath, anything ‘weighty’ would be trusted for those things can be measured and weighed. And yet, they are all “empty pride” (vs. 10). The psalmist, on the other hand, is urging himself (and his ‘people’) to turn to that which gives an even greater weight (I am ‘rock-strong’) and power (“my welfare and my power depend on God”). This is not anti-creational; it is not mystical; it is not ‘detachment’. It is historical—the psalmist is urging patience. In other words, the time will come when the ‘weight of the world’ will be given to those who trust in God. There is no sacrifice of the future in favor of a present spiritual detachment that achieves harmony—the present is marked by this “self-speak” of urging continued patience and trust. All of these ‘counter-voices’ (that of the wicked, that of vanity and that of trusting in extortion/plunder/wealth) all represent competing voices of the psalmist. He sees and hears himself in each. And, it is precisely in his insistence that God will redeem (his forward looking) that counters this tendency to surrender to the present, and make peace with it. The psalmist will not do so. This is why the ‘first’ conclusion of the psalm ends the way it does: God has spoken once – twice I heard this – that strength belongs to God. He must continuously (God spoke it once…I’ve heard it twice…) live in the certainty of God’s deliverance. It is there that the vanity of the world, and the wicked, will be silenced, and the psalmist will be whole and of a single voice. Until then, though, the self-speak must continue. 

Ps. 62.8 (from 'my soul' to 'O people')

Trust in him / at all times / O people
pour out / your hearts / before him.
God / is our refuge. 

This verse functions as an important pivot leading into the next verse in two ways. First, the individual focus is here broadened to “you people”. They are, like the psalmist, to make God “our refuge”. In this regard they are to partake of all of the same modes of “Temple solidity” we have referred to in previous reflections: they are to participate in that which makes them “rock-strong” in contrast to those who are “mere breathe”. Second, this section of the psalm focuses on the seemingly general principal of vanity that afflicts all people. From ‘low to high’ they are mere breath (vs. 9). This general sense of vanity is countered here by moving the “people” into the sphere of patient trust in God’s deliverance. It is, I think, important that, previously, all of the addresses had been to “O my soul” whereas now it is “O people”. They are being incorporated into precisely the same address the psalmist has been making to his soul. Likewise, just as God has been designated “my refuge” or “my stronghold” in the previous verses, now he is understood to be “our refuge”. Perhaps what we find here is that the psalmist’s answer to the world’s vanity cannot be one that is purely individual—that in order for the totalizing power of vanity to be fully ‘met’ by God, it must be met by a ‘people’, a ‘family of God’ that, corporately (as a “nation of priests…”), shows forth God’s power over the vanity and fleeting nature of chaos and destruction (the 'corporate' power of vanity is met by the 'corporate' power of God's family). Finally, I have to wonder whether the ‘pouring out’ of the heart is to refer, in some way, to a ‘poured out’ sacrifice in the Temple. Is it that, just as the psalmist finds his security in the “rock” (of the Temple), so too are the “people” to find the same security by coming to Temple and ‘pouring out’ libations in sacrifice, representing the ‘pouring out’ of their hearts to God (“before God”)?

Ps. 62.5-7 (becoming the rock)

Yes / calmly wait for God / O my soul
for / my hope / is from him
Yes / he is my rock / where I am secure
my stronghold / where I am unshaken
my welfare / and my power / depend on God
I am / rock-strong / and secure / in God.   

These verses are largely a repetition of the opening and signal a shift in the psalm to a new focus. The opening verses prepared us for the attack of the wicked. Theses verses approach the infusion of God’s strength into the psalmist from a different angle—the vanity of the world. It is for this reason that, I think, we find additional language in these verses not found in the opening. Particularly, the claim by the psalmist that “my welfare and my power depend on God; I am rock-strong and secure in God.” This shift is important to note. In the opening, God’s Temple was portrayed as the source of the psalmist’s strength. It was, in a sense, the place to which he fled. In a sense, the psalmist seemed largely passive in light of the Temple’s (God’s) protection. Here, however, there is an added dynamic. Now, the psalmist is empowered and active(ated) by God: “my welfare and my power depend on God; I am rock-strong and secure in God.” The psalmist has appropriated those qualities of God that were previously attributed to the Temple: the ‘rock’ and ‘security’. If the psalmist were a plant, the first section would be about the shade afforded by the Temple; this section would be about the vitality and fruit-bearing capacity afforded him by the Temple. The reason this is important: the protection afforded the psalmist in the opening was to ward off the attacks of the wicked. Here, the empowerment afforded the psalmist is to be a display of the vitality of God in the face of the world’s vanity. The psalmist being ‘rock-strong’ will stand in direct contrast to the fact that “ordinary people are only a breath; an illusion are people of rank.” (vs. 9). Whereas they “rise on the balance” (vs. 9), the psalmist would tip it like a rock. In this we see two further important points: 1) the psalmist will stand to everyone else (from the ‘ordinary’ to the ‘high’) the way the Temple will stand to all of creation. We have spoken of this in other psalms: that goods are ‘good’ only when they are given by God in safety and perpetuity, and that is accomplished by and through (among other ways) God’s covenant power. Here, the Temple, as being the very dwelling of the forever-God, partakes of his permanence and becomes a rock in the face of the vanity and passing-nature (the ‘non-forever-time’) of the world (subject to vanity of grasping without God’s aid). The psalmist will, himself, partake of this permanence. 2) We see here the second ‘voice’ the psalmist is attempting to pacify through patience in God. The first voice, as we saw, was that he was a ‘tottering wall’; this voice is that he is mere breath.

Ps. 62.3-4 (the Temple and the tottering wall)

How long / will you assault / a person
all of you attacking
as you would / a leaning wall / or a built parapet?
Yes, / despite being a person / of high status (my glory/weight/authority)
they plan / to push him down
they delight / in lies
they bless / with their mouths
but inwardly / they curse. 

The question, ‘how long?’, as we have seen can be used in different ways. When addressed to God it is one of anguish (“how long until you deliver me?”); when addressed to the wicked, however, it is one of superior, and ironic detachment (“how long will continue to act like a fool?”). The second is what we find here. From his Temple-assurance he now turns to address the wicked and what he finds, after having bathed his soul in Temple-assurance, is a people utterly perplexing to him. They are, to him, an absurdity, as they attempt to conquer that which cannot be destroyed. The city/Temple imagery is furthered in these verses. Whereas the psalmist is ‘Temple-strong’ in God, these men’s attack is likened to a siege. Importantly, however, they are not literal city-attackers, but are waging war against the psalmist. Here is something important: those who wait patiently for God are those who participate within the solidity and forever of the Temple; those who participate thus become, through that participating, a forever-city themselves. This is not a bypassing of the Temple, however. One must participate within it in order to further it. The Temple is the source; the headwater. This will come out clearly later when the psalmist says: “Yes, he is my rock, where I am secure…I am rock-strong and secure in God.” Through God’s temple, the psalmist becomes, in a way, a temple. It is this reason why I think these verses are speaking of the psalmist, and why I included the parenthesis above (“my glory/weight/authority…”, which is attested in some manuscripts). He is the person of ‘high rank’. To the wicked, he appears like he is ready to fall, a “tottering wall” and very vulnerable. And this is the reason why we saw the division in verse 1 (of why the psalmist must address himself): the division consists of the difference in perspective between the wicked and his own (he is a “tottering wall”) and his other voice (in God I am “rock strong”). The psalmist is both of these voices—the note of assurance is that which is telling himself he is not, in fact, tottering, but must be patient for God’s deliverance. What we find, then, is that beneath the assurance is this note of anxiety; this is the reason he must speak to himself to begin with. The wicked, then, are only on one side of the divide; they psalmist is with them there, too. However, unlike the wicked, the psalmist also has the ability (through his Temple-participation) of speaking out, more strongly and from a much higher vantage point, against this perspective. Note: the psalmist’s own anxiety is not given any purchase in the psalm. If it can be detected at all, it is through the wicked. In this way, it might be said that the Temple-voice of the psalmist is also addressing himself (in a type of empowering disdain) when he speaks of the wicked, alienating that weaker, anxiety ridden perspective and placing it in those who are dim-witted and absurd. Indeed, it is placed within the mouths of these agents of chaos: those who, as we have seen with wicked, are disunified (the speak one thing outwardly, but inwardly are the opposite).