Ps. 66.6-7 (creation's persistence blessing)

The earth / yields its harvest!
Continue to bless us / O God / our God.
May God bless us
and all the ends of the earth
will fear him! 

This final transition seems stark. The psalm has progressed from: call for blessing – call for world-wide recognition of God’s work in Israel – call for world-wide recognition of God’s role as King/Judge within nations –  (and here) recognition of harvest and call for continuance of blessing. The question is how the harvest relates to the preceding verses. We noted at the outset how the slight modification of Aaronic, high-priestly blessing refocused the ‘stance’ of the psalm—rather than it being one imposed on Israel from the high priest, Israel itself has, in some way, become its own high-priest. We noted how, in this shift of focus, Israel now operates like the high-priest to the world. This lead into, and justified, the change in perspective to the “peoples” and the vision of world-wide liturgy to God. In other words: Israel as high-priest engendered a vision of totalizing redemption (in some fashion). The blessing contained in Israel has overflowed into the “peoples”. It is, I think, at this point that the harvest imagery can be best understood. With the entire world engaged in liturgy, the earth itself is now responding likewise. The harvest is the world’s liturgy and praise. In some way, the harvest of the earth is a manifestation of, or participation in, the potentiality of the world’s unity in liturgy. However fractured the “peoples” may be, the harvest of the earth signals to the ‘blessing of God’ that continues not only unabated but as a ‘real sign’ (almost sacramentally) of the world’s (the peoples) intended union. When Israel observed its (…the) harvest it didn’t simply see the blessing of God in themselves, but the Eden power of the earth that is a blessing to all peoples. We might say it thus: the persistence of the blessing in the earth, as seen in the harvest, signals to the persistence of Adam in all man. And, therefore, when the psalmist envisions the dissolution of all division in man (as in verses 2-5) he sees Israel as the Aaronic high-priest, now dispensing the blessing of God to all man. The emphasis, however, must fall where it does in the psalm: blessing. The harvest would be a clear manifestation of this: the power of the earth to bring forth life. There is something, so to speak, about the earth and its ability to bring forth life that would speak to God’s primal blessing (act of redemptive creation) on (within) all the world. Like the (powerful) blessings transmitted to the sons of the patriarchs, so too was the power of God’s vitality transferred to the earth in the act of creation. We might say, creation was this act of blessing.  And it is a blessing that has not been lost but persists.

Ps. 66.4-5 (world judge)

Let the peoples / rejoice and sing for joy
for / you judge the peoples / with equity
and guide / peoples on the earth.
Let the peoples / praise you / O God
let all the peoples / praise you. 

From the recognition of God’s authorial glory in Israel we now move into God’s world-wide judgment and guidance. Here, the psalmist’s sees God as a type of benevolent ruler, both righting wrongs (judging in equity) and guiding his people. How God performs these activities is not the focus. The point, rather, is that his dominion is one that is not merely limited to Israel but one that expresses concern for “all the peoples”. There is, in other words, a perception of God’s constant and abiding concern for “the peoples”. And, this is not played off his concern for Israel. It is, just as much as Israel’s history, to be a source of world-wide liturgy. The refrain is exactly the same: “Let the peoples praise you…”. It is a thing delighted in. Again, however, we must point out that there is an almost willed naiveté in these lines. How else are we to explain this vision of world-wide liturgy to God? Haven’t Cain and Abel been fighting since Eden? I think what we must (or, might) say is that these lines exist in some type of twilight; that the psalmist sees the entire earth within the resurrection power we have detected in so many other psalms—drawn up from the power of Sheol to be put, firmly, in the land of the living.  Maybe, more appropriate to this context, is that the whole world is contained within (or, perceived through) the Aaronic (high priest) blessing-power of God. Is this vision any less astonishing than the psalmist who is sure God can redeem him from Sheol?

Ps. 66.2-3 (Pentecost)

Knowing your ways / on earth
your saving work / among all the nations
let the peoples / praise you / O God
let all the peoples / praise you. 

Two things must be said about the vision contained in these verses: it is a request and it perceives a deep unity between the blessing of God in Israel and the world’s reaction to that blessing. As to it being a request, it is important to note that the psalmist here is not describing a reality. He is calling upon the world to engage in worship of God, through its deep perception of the saving-work accomplished by him in Israel. This ‘saving work’ should probably be understood as a manifestation, or enactment, of God’s authority and power over the world as displayed in his concern for and saving of Israel. In other words, through the redemption of Israel, the psalmist is asking the whole world to see that God (Yhwh) is High King. In this psalmist’s vision, the recalcitrance of the nations that react(ed) against Israel in the Exodus is removed (their hearts of stone are replaced…). Rather, the light of Israel (the light of God’s authorial glory) meets no obstacle but infuses the world, igniting praise within it.  This leads to the second point: the relation of peace within Israel as it is “blessed by God” (vs. 1) and the unobstructed praise that issues here in verses 2-3. This is crucial to grasp as there is no hiatus between the two—Israel and the world are again (peaceful) brothers engaged in worship of their father. The ‘inner’ blessing of Israel is the light of praise to the world. There is no sense here of a prior pacification/judgment of the world, but rather the immediate recognition/knowledge/perception of God’s glory (as a thing of persuasive beauty and not threat). In this, the distinction of Israel (now, as high Aaronic priest; vs. 1) serves to unite the world. And, most profoundly, the unity that is achieved here is a liturgical unity, a unity of praise. In his ultimate vision, the psalmist sees the world not simply as peaceful but liturgical. The nations are no longer babel, but liturgical (or, pentecostal…). Yet, again, this all resides in the desire of the psalmist.

Ps. 66.1 (Aaron and a nation of priests)

May God / be gracious to us / and bless us;
May he / make his face / to shine among us. 

Although this psalm is a petition it is not, importantly, a petition for deliverance. There is no sense of a threat to the community’s, or psalmist’s, life. Rather, it is a petition for blessing. This is important, it would seem, as even though the entire world is envisioned in this psalm, there does not lurk within it what seems so prevalent in many other psalms: that the nations are manifestations of the waters of chaos, attempting to engulf Israel. It is in this context of a seeming worldwide peace that these opening lines are uttered. The psalmist is here quoting (or, enacting) the blessing given by Moses to Aaron, the high priest, in order to bless the people. The Aaronic blessing, then, is no trivial matter. Just as the patriarchs in Genesis pass down their blessing to their sons in an irrevocable manner, how much more does this blessing of God effect his life-giving power in and through Aaron, the high priest. In other words, it seems as if, in the perpetuating of a blessing, the individual performing the blessing is, in some way, being transferred to the blessed. The father, for example, is in some manner giving his own virility, power and life to the one blessed. When this is now applied to God, Aaron, as high priest, mediates the very power/presence of God onto (or, into) the people; they become empowered by his own blessing-power-life. The ‘face of God’ is now illuminated, shining and turned toward his people. Yet, the psalmist here modified the Aaron blessing in one small but important way—Aaron, the high priest, is no longer the one who mediates the blessing; the people mediate the blessing onto themselves, thereby making themselves the ‘high priest’. This shift is profoundly important, in light of what we said above and as to what will follow in the psalm—the people have become the high priest and it is through them that the blessing/presence of God will now be distributed not only to the Israel but to the world. In this we see a shadow of God’s original design for Israel: to be a nation of priests (the eldest brother to his nation-brothers).

Ps. 66.16-20 (silver-tongue)

Come / listen / all you who fear God
and I will tell you / what he has done / for me.
I cried out to him / with my mouth
but praise / was on the tip / of my tongue.
Had I been guilty / in my heart,
My Lord / would not have heard me.
But / God did hear me
he listened / to my voice / in prayer
Blessed / be God
who has not / turned away my prayer
or his loyal-love /from me. 

It may be that in these concluding lines we come to see that the psalmist is, in fact, the king, and that the deliverance that he is singing praise over is his military deliverance from enemies. This need not be the case, but it does tend to cohere well with the rest of the psalm and its emphasis on God’s deliverance in the form (or, effect) of “cowering” his enemies (vs. 3). The king as liturgical center—his call to “come and see” his story—is also fitting. Further, the direction of the psalm as it narrows down to an individual (from “all the earth” to the Red Sea to “us” to “I”), may also give credence to this being the king. Rather than funneling down into an ‘individual’ it is focusing upon the deliverance provided to the king. In this way the psalm remains ‘epic’ in its focus and the “I” could still, very easily be, “us” (in that, any deliverance of the king-shepherd is a deliverance of his subjects-flock). That entire preliminary aside, these concluding lines offer some unique insights. First, the psalmist calls upon “those who fear God” to, pilgrim-like, “come and see” what he has to say about God’s deliverance. However, the focus of his recounting turns, in large part, on the prayer he offered and on possibility of its being heard. In other words, the actual deliverance is sidelined. What the psalmist wants his listeners to focus on is on how to pray so that one is heard, and that requires a lack of guilt. If one is guilty God is deaf to their pleas for deliverance. In the context of the psalm, we must wonder whether this lack of guilt points back to the “testing and refining into silver” of verses 9-11. Is it the case that the psalmist’s voice is now “silver-tongued” because he has been refined as such? If that is the case, can we say that the refining of God is his making of his people into these silver-petitioners, those who can “get God to move”? For clearly, the psalmist is anxious to impart to the other ‘god-fearers’ that God (the “most-moved-mover”) listens (i.e., delivers) to those are holy (who have “passed through fire and water”). Second, this ‘lack of guilt’ is matched by a conviction of God’s power. His ‘crying out’ is almost simultaneous with his thanksgiving for deliverance. In other words, the psalmist stands within a certainty that he will be heard and, more impressively, that his prayer will initiate God’s exodus power. This is, truly, an astonishing thing to be confident over. And, it is at this point, that we can combine these two observations: the silver-tongue and exodus power. Here we come to see the truly remarkable power of prayer, of “being heard” and having one’s prayer “not turned away by God.” (vs. 19-20). For, when that happens, the power of God’s loyal-love is unleashed and the exodus, again, made present.