Ps. 78.53 (a glimpse)

He led them safely / and they were not afraid
but their enemies / were left covered / by the sea. 

A response: It is interesting to note that in the section covering the plagues the response of the Egyptians is never mentioned. There is no reaction to the water turned to blood, the crops destroyed, the livestock killed, or, perhaps most shocking, no response to the killing of their first born children. Here, by contrast, we see Israel’s response to God—“they were not afraid”. It is, in a sense, nestled within these verses that focus entirely on God’s actions (as in the plague section). But it is very telling, as now there emerges something of a communion between God and his people. In the plague section the psalmist effectively bracketed out any mention of the Egyptians; indeed the plagues do not even seem like ‘warnings’ but more like an orchestrated plan that needs no portrayal of the Egyptian’s response. Here, however, once Israel enters the scene, the texture of the psalm changes fairly dramatically. A partner: Now, there is the sense of a partner to God. They are “his people” and  his “flock”. He “leads them in safety”. We get the sense that, although it is not explicitly stated, that God has become responsive; he has entered into a (covenant) relationship with Israel in a way dramatically different than, for example, Egypt. He has, in other words, created a space for them within Himself. Here we come to an interesting observation—we noted the mirroring of the plagues and the blessings. One thing though we missed is the fact that the plagues do not originate from God’s response to Egypt in the way that his wrath does to Israel’s rebellion. It is true that God’s final plague is, in a way, enacted rage; however, it is not explicitly described as a response to the hardness of Pharaoh’s heart (for example). What we find, instead, is the fact that God ‘responds’ only to Israel—either to her rebellion or to her enemies. She is, in this sense, his object of affection. His response to the world (and to Israel) flows from and through her. At least, that is what we see in this psalm. And it mirrors many other reflections of ours (especially those on Zion; outside god’s face is rather one-dimensional; inside Zion, there is a very profound interplay between God and his people and his Temple). Sequencing: this verse ends at precisely the moment where the first section began (vs. 12)—the parting of the Sea. As we will see, it will pick up at the moment (roughly) when the section concluded—the entrance into the promise land.  We will look later at perhaps why the psalmist has decided to treat these portions separately. 

Ps. 78.52 (set in motion)

And then / he set his people moving
and guided them / as a flock / in the wilderness. 

Her appearance. The psalm now shifts in perspective as God now centers his attention on Israel, “his people”. It is interesting to note that, in contrast to the account in Exodus of the plagues, Israel has been entirely absent until this point. Rather, the focus has been exclusively on God’s dealing with Israel’s enemies; there is no account of the plagues not harming Israel or of their dwelling in a type of secure sphere of protection. The psalmist has bracketed that entire aspect. Now, however, Israel makes her entrance. Set in Motion. And she is described as “being set in motion”. This is important for two reasons. The first is how this directly contrasts with the previous verse where the firstborn of the Egyptians were “struck down” in their tents. From absolute immobility we are now presented with the movement of life, deliverance and ransom. In this we see that God’s deliverance is one that causes ‘removal to Himself’. Israel’s deliverance is not found purely in the destruction of the Egyptians, but rather in their ‘being set in motion’ toward God’s land. Resurrection. On a deeper level, although intimately tied to the first, is that this is a type of ‘resurrection’. Israel is being ‘set in motion’ out of the death that has become Egypt. It is analogous to the sick man’s deliverance from Sheol. As we saw last time, with the destruction of the firstborn, the plagues had reached their consummation—consuming all of the created order (water, vegetation, animals to human). From land to life, Egypt had become curse by entering into the silence and immobility of death. Now, with Israel, we see from within that realm, immediately upon her appearance, movement, life and blessing. Israel emerges as the complete antithesis of Egypt. Death as Prologue. Further, it is important to note the ‘precondition’ to Israel’s movement. Unlike in the Exodus story there is no previous request for Israel’s liberation that is met by refusal. Rather, there is only the sending of plague after plague. The sense is more of a steady destruction not so much as ‘warning’ but as a concerted aim at completely leveling Egypt. It is as if the death of the first-born is the summation, not the final but most dramatic warning. The point to all this is that Israel’s ‘raising up’ is founded upon the intentional (and absolute) ‘casting down’ of Egypt. Her life will come from death. Israel the flock. There are several layers to Israel’s being a flock. Only one will I mention here, saving the others for the next reflection. The only other mention of a ‘flock’ in the psalm is the flocks of Egypt that are given over to death by hail. In a sense, the shepherd of Egypt has failed to keep his flock safe (or, is unable). Here, however, when Israel is ‘set in motion’ they move as God’s flock and under his protection. Egypt’s flocks end in death; as God’s flock, Israel will move in(to) life. They travel in resurrection power.

Ps. 78.49-51 (the culmination)

He sent / his burning anger / against them
fury / and indignation / and distress
a band of angels / of calamity
who prepared / a path / for his anger.
He did not spare them / from death
and their lives / he delivered to the plague.
He struck down / all the firstborn / of Egypt
the firstfruits / of virility / in the tents of Ham.  

Israel and Egypt: Divergence. The plagues thus far have largely been confined to a single verse. At this point of the final plague, however, the psalmist slows down considerably. The entire drama of the plague unfolds. This should not come as a surprise given our observation about the mirroring of these plagues with the experience of Israel in the wilderness in verses 12-41. There, the most detailed description of the narrative is provided at the final enactment of God’s anger, when he starts his killing and his fury erupts. The same is mirrored here. As with Israel, the final plague begins in wrath and anger. In both his anger is portrayed as a flame (vs. 31, it “flares up”; vs. 49, his “burning anger”). Both involve the killing of human life. And both, most importantly, involve not the indiscriminate elimination of human life but, rather, the community’s most cherished men: vs. 31, he “killed their best men”; vs. 51, the “firstborn” and “firstfruits” are struck down. Here is where we come to a crucial insight—up to this point the ‘history of Egypt’ and the ‘history of Israel’ have not only diverged but been mirror opposites of each other. Convergence. However, now they converge. And they converge at this point of anger, fury and death. This is fascinating not so much for what it says about Egypt but about Israel---they do not have a privileged status in front of God when it comes to his anger. Rather, when his ‘killing anger’ erupts on them, it erupts on them just as it did with Egypt. The literary mirroring of the two points to the fact that Israel will suffer the same fate as Egypt. In a sense, when God’s anger ‘flares up’ in the wilderness it shows how the ‘Passover’ is not something that has been made permanent. Rather, as the psalm emphasizes over and over, it must be continuously remembered to be (continuously) efficacious. Wrath Internal and External. With that said, there is a key difference between Israel’s experience of God’s wrath and Egypt’s. When God’s begins his ‘killing’ of the Israelites he does, at one point, withhold the full venting of his wrath in an act of mercy; he “remembers that they are flesh”. However, nowhere is this mercy or withholding referred to regarding the Egyptians. Rather, they experience the full brunt of God’s wrath; there is no ‘mercy’ or ‘remembrance’ in the midst of their deaths. What we see then is an internal and external enactment of wrath. Internally, Israel is not safe-guarded from experiencing God’s wrath but they do stand within a covenant with him such that he will enact his mercy toward them and save them from the full brunt of his wrath (he won’t destroy them). Externally, however, toward Israel’s enemies, that full wrath can be experienced; total destruction can take place. Toward them there is no mercy. That said, this external ‘full venting’ is in service of a goal; it is, as always, penultimate. There is a clue to this in these verses. God’s angels are referred to as preparing a ‘path’ for God’s anger. This ‘path’ is referred to again, though, once Egypt is destroyed—now, it is the path that Israel will travel as they follow God, their shepherd. What this means is that the ‘path’ of God’s anger is to ultimately lead to the establishing of the path of deliverance for his people. God’s wrath is in service to his deliverance. Death of Man. Up to now Egypt’s history has never been described as one of anger but of signs. This final plague will share many of the features of the previous plagues. It will be a ‘delivering to’, just as he ‘delivered’ their livestock and their flocks to hail and lightning bolts. Likewise, this final plague will also contain echoes of the agricultural destruction of the crops, vines and the sycamore tree—it will consist of the death of the ‘firstfruits of virility’. And yet, as we have commented on before, this final plague is the most devastating. The plagues have been moving up the ‘chain of being’, from water, to vegetation, to livestock and now to man. Creation itself followed a similar movement. Egypt is, in a very real way, being dis-created or unmade. It is, in other words, being torn down. And, with man, creation (and its destruction) reaches the pinnacle. Death of Man, David and Temple. Within the psalm this ‘pinnacle of death’ in both Egypt and (especially) in Israel is important because of where we find ourselves at the end: with David and the Temple. As we will see, there is another ‘death’ that is experienced at the height of God’s rage with Israel: the tearing away of the Shiloh sanctuary and his repudiation of the tribe of Joseph and Ephraim. Both of these removals will then be replaced with Zion and David (tribe of Judah). The point, I think, is that man is in David being (re)made just as creation, in Zion, is being (re)created.  Further, when these acts of death are performed they either create a displacement or homelessness or they take place ‘in the wilderness’. At the end of the psalm, by contrast, the land is established when Zion and David are chosen by God. What this means, I think, is that this fury of God is, in a sense, an exilic fury; it is always one that ‘banishes’ or uproots the one toward whom it is directed. In Zion, then, we see the culmination of this momentum: toward the hill that can’t be shaken, the Temple that ‘stands firm’. In this way Zion and the Temple stand in complete contrast to Egypt. The Temple is the place of life and solidity; Egypt the place of death and homelessness.

Ps. 78.48 (an egyptian hell)

He delivered / their livestock / to the hail
and their flocks / to the lightning bolts. 

If we have been correct in perceiving a type of mirroring between God’s actions with Israel and with her enemies, then that continues into these verses. We have seen how, with Israel, God first provides water, then bread, then meat. Here, God ‘kills’ the enemies water, their crops and now their meat (their livestock). It is also instructive how this destruction occurs. Our analysis here will be very similar to the one offered in regard to God’s provision of bread and destruction of agriculture. When God provided meat to the Israelites it was described as “raining down” on the Israelites. God “set the east wind blowing” and “guided the south wind” such that meat and flying birds fell on them like dust and the sand on seashore. Here, just as with the ‘rain of death’ in the agricultural sphere, God now, instead of a rain of ‘blessing’, produces the ‘raining of curse’ upon Israel’s enemies. This rain, instead of producing life, produces death. Again, this is a ‘sign’ of God’s protection of his people and their ransoming. It is, also as we saw yesterday, a sign that takes is shape from the blessing that will ‘rain down’ on Israel later. The ‘killing’ of the Egyptian meat is understood only in light of the ‘blessing’ of Israelite meat in the wilderness. Further, as we also remarked upon yesterday, this ‘sign’ is established in Egypt. With all of the weight that Egypt carries in the Scriptures it is difficult not to envision these ‘signs in Egypt’ as a type of enacted hell. These sings make Egypt into a desecration as death begins to feed upon its every strata (from water, to vegetation, to animal, to man—much like the creation story…). Whereas God’s ‘sanctuary’ will be in the wilderness (around which ‘birds will fall like sand’), Egypt will become desolated by a killing hail and lightning bolts. In Egypt, life is being systematically destroyed; in the wilderness, life is being prodigally provided.

Ps. 78.46-47 (rain of wrath; rain of blessing)

And he gave / to the grasshopper / their crops
and their produce / to the locust swarm
He killed their vines / with hail
and the sycamore tree / with the frost. 

We observed the phenomenon in the previous reflection on how God’s acts towards Israel’s enemies is one that essentially forms the reverse of his acts of blessing toward them. Toward Israel God provides ‘streams and rivers in the desert’; toward her enemies, he kills her ‘streams and dessert’ in their own vicinity. Here, we see that momentum moving forward. Toward Israel God then provided ‘bread’. Here, toward her enemies, God ‘gives over’ and ‘kills’ the produce of the land: their crops, produce, vines and sycamore tree. Important to note (although not mentioned previously) is the fact that this reversal occurs not simply at the level of vegetation. Rather, it also occurs at the level of geography: Israel is ‘in the wilderness’; they are ‘wanderers’ without a home. The Egyptians, on the other hand, are attacked in their own land. In a way it is the ‘lowly being raised up while the mighty are cast down’. Opening heaven: When Israel was given bread, it was no merely natural bread. Rather, it came down from heaven and was the ‘bread of angels’. Its descent is repeatedly cast in terms of ‘rain’: God “commanded the skies above, and opened the doors of heaven, and rained downon them manna to eat…”. Here, the reverse is on display: rather that manna ‘raining’ from the sky, God sends ‘hail and frost’ to destroy their crops. Clearly, this is not merely literary cleverness nor historical recounting. It is conveying the theological insight of God’s dealing with his people and their enemies and it accords with the ‘logic of wrath’ we have traced in nearly every psalm that deals with it—when the evil are cast down they are done so in one of two ways: 1) in reverse to their behavior (if they dig a pit they will fall in it); or 2) in reverse to the blessing God bestows on the righteous (if he gives them water, he will turn the enemies’ water to blood). God’s wrath is then a ‘revelation of truth’. We might put it this way: God’s wrath is what turns man’s evil into a curse. It ‘truths’ the evil, and in this ‘truth-ing’ makes it into a curse. This is why, I think, these ‘signs’ that God places in Egypt are not simply objects but effective ‘transformations’. They are, in other words, curses. Perhaps more profound, however, is this: They look forward to the blessings that God will bestow on Israel and are conformed to that reality.  This is really deep insight. We have always remarked on how God’s curses are ‘penultimate’; God’s blessings are the ‘ultimate’ aim. Here, we see how that reality is worked out in historical fashion: that the plagues in Egypt are shaped according to the blessings that Israel will experience after they are ransomed. The future is not merely a response to the present; the “present-of-wrath” is just as much—indeed, more—a response to the future (in other words, God’s wrath is teleologically ordered, which is why it is always penultimate, and not ultimate). One final point. When we compare the rain on the Egyptians and the ‘rain of manna’ on the Israelites (rain of curse to rain of blessing), we note a very different emphasis in deployment. When God acts in wrath he acts according to an almost rigid logic/justice; when he acts according to blessing, there is a type of prodigality to it. We saw this when comparing the two ‘splittings of water’: when the red sea was split it was ‘built’ and ‘stood up like a wall’; when the water in the river flowed, it “runs like rivers” and emerges as “from a great deep”. The point, I think, is that God’s blessing is festive while his wrath operates in a much more ‘restrained’ (though powerful) manner. Notice that in this psalm the only thing that is ‘held back’ is God’s wrath (vs. 38); when God bestows his blessing, he gives ‘full vent’ to it.